Monuments & Melodies

Ryan Gleason

Table of Contents

1. No Good2. Anger3. The Guide4. To Get to New London5. Spring In this place6. The Square and Circle of a Song7. The Rusky Dusky Jazz Club

No Good

My friend says I can do no goodYou seeI say I see

He says Try as I mayBut no good I can doI say I knew

Even when something good would happenI would turn that good into badI do not know whyI sigh

He says the last time I tried goodI say the last time I did good

He says the last time I did goodI helped a friendThey told me about theirLife which was in needSo I helped them Get help to plant a new seed

Oh I say I felt as though I had helped them throughHe says but that wasNot the case at allI had only hurt them moreDoing no good again

I say I see

But they moved onFeeling I did no Good for themJust because I was there

I say nothing

He says perhapsAnd maybeI am not meant to do goodPerhaps I should Just give in and let go

I look out the doorwayMy friend has years on meHe says I tried to helpI left him thereDoing no good of my ownYou see

Anger

I feel you building up Inside me From down Deep you come upHolding you down Is much harderLike stopping Tsunami that isRushing forward to wreak havoc On everything it can possibly touchYou eruptLike a volcanoDormant for years, but now readyFor destruction of all in your wayFriendships, memories, moments sharedNot one feeling or bond is safeEverything is against meEverything offends meEverything I am in power of becomes powerlessEverything holding me back snaps in a fury of reckless abandon KABOOMYou explode BreakingArms, legs, necks, fingersBut really what does it matter what is brokenNow there is nothing left butThe hot uncontrollable fires of feelings

The Guide

Today is the day you madeMistakes made thatChange opinions of me and My characterBut with you I am calm,Relaxed. I feel free from harmLike a red-tailed hawk soaring high aboveThis dangerous ground full of Trees and the unseen forest floorWhere predators layThere is a cool breeze from the skyA sign that you are thereGuiding me through lifeBlowing me through successes andFaults I have shapedI need not fear your presenceFor you are there for me toHelp show me the right path And what I can really do in this Life I live everyday flying throughTroubles and triumph

To Get To New LondonIf you want to get to New LondonTake highway 89 to exit 11Travel past the white, fenced-in neighborhoodPast the local pubWhere local men have a drink and watch the gameAnd local families enjoy food in the relaxed atmosphere of a small town pubWhere the local drunks get their fill of warm whiskeyOnly to slowly watch their distaste for the college grow Like a bitter drink that a new, outsider bartender preparedTake a left turn at the 4-way intersectionPast the longing of the college students as they search for their destinationSoon to be doctors or lawyers, only to someday return to this place to create a new lifeWaiting for their chance to make something of their livesA life so similar to the one they led years ago in collegeRoll down the window and breath in the small town airImagine it’s summer and people are swarming the town greenIf you want to get to New LondonThink of college kidsThink of old folks Think of a small New England town A town that seems trapped in by white fencing

Spring in this Place

At a small New Hampshire boarding schoolA group of students sits in the cool spring airAs I watch them I think of my life in this worldCut off from the hustling reality of theOutside. The chill air blows my hair in the soft spring sunI think of years past when I would sit thereAt that same bench on that same hillWishing for the best for my futureWaiting for what’s next in my lifeIt feels like the times grow smooth In front of my eyesThen the wind blows the page right from my penI pull it back to continueReminiscing. Now I truly appreciate The spring. Now I truly love the life I’ve led

The Square and Circle of a Song

To you I oweJust about everything I knowOf happinessThough you are but and inanimate creationYou are square but far from un-hip Like a struggling artist whoIn reality is a force to be reckoned withInside you spin in circles of brilliancePortraying thoughts of unseen soundAnd audible expressionUnwilling to hear“No I will not Dance”Weeks ago you renewed my obsessionYears ago you molded this obsessionTaking on many musical forms I had yet to exploreBut now I’m hearing you yet againI have to listen to what you offerI have to hear what youHave to say, because though you are Lifeless you SCREAMLife

The Rusky Dusky Jazz Club

In a smokey clubAn orange hued double bassGlistens in the pale lightOf a jazz masters dreamsHis brown powerful hands takeControl of the bottom of theTune thumping walking groovingThrough a set of jazz standardsThose hands command, Those big blackPowerful hands command music asThey pick up that gorgeous orangeAncient bass it’s growling toneWalks the band through places it’s Never seen nor heard much like aKing lion leading his pride to newGround obsessed with constructing thePerfect bass-line for the tune heSmoothly moves his fingers across theJet black fingerboard the audienceGrooves on his energy and his graspOn the tune as they sip martinis And highballs in the Rusky DuskyClub the music takes awayTroubles of the fast city lifeFor both him and his audienceCreating a moment of completeSynch for all who partake inThe infectious groove of thatBeautiful orange bass with it’sHUGE thumping toneThe set ends as does theNight and the compelling grooveHe sits at the bar andWaves those large commanding Hands in the air demandingA drink to celebrate andA smoke to commemorate theLong night of Bird, Diz, andDuke flowing from his aching fingers