New Hope Revisited

This is to give A.J. some background as he translates poem to music. As you know, there is a town named New Hope, I did live there, and I worked as a bartender at a place called John and Peter's. I was also just divorced, working as a framer, finishing my college degree, and student teaching. My life was fairly insane on many levels so why not move to the capital. The only way to stand out in New Hope was to be "normal". Wear a pink too-too while riding a unicycle with a heroin needle hanging out your arm? Your good. It was great at first. Everything was new or at least different. Funny thing about crazy though, when it becomes normal, it loses it's edge. Working at the bar, the gay's outrageousness, the biker's bad ass bravado, the drugs, the tattoo's, the madness......became boring and old. It led me to brood on the idea of new hope. There is no "new" hope. It's really just the same old hope or perhaps the absence of hope altogether. Perhaps that is the conclusion reached by the man on the bridge, also real. I was in that mind set so it did have a big impact on me. New hope is our own creation; something to get us through the night. It is shiny and bright, like those lights....but ultimately, empty. The "dead ahead" were the living characters I met there. And the realization that "new" hope does not exist, helped me move on.

I hear the song as an up-beat, techno, dance mix. Just kidding. Best of luck.

Calling (For Chick)

Usually
I call to speak of nothing
Just call
Sometimes I think I'm moving boulders
Sometimes just throwing stones
We laugh at the cracks
In the rocks
In my hands
And what spills out surprises us both

Banners
Flailing atop thinking towers
Some blood red
Some ghostly white
Others just grey
Invisible
Unraveling and blathering, endlessly
Into the child night
I call to speak of nothing
Just call
I call to hear her listen
And so I can listen too

copyright tom ewing 2008