Every day at three—
the little prince arrives,
cawing his prophecy at the door,
voice worn with quiet hunger.

He calls me out—
out of silence,
out of whatever grief I’ve tucked away.

If I do not answer—
he circles,
cawing until I stand before him—
palms cracked open,
giving what I can to feed his hunger.

He knew the weight of my hands
before I did.

What arrogance—
to believe I am the keeper.

Perhaps it is him—
who feeds me—
the voice in the throat of the world,
reminding me—
even the unloved must answer when named.

The hour always comes.

My lover has crossed the sea, the great blue sea,
where the waves rise high and the gulls fly free.
With salt on his skin and wind in his hair,
he left me standing, silent, and bare.

The tide it pulls, the tide it sways,
stealing the light from my weary days.
I trace his name in the shifting sand,
only to watch it slip from my hand.

The moon whispers secrets across the deep,
as I sit alone where the cold winds weep.
Does he think of me when the stars ignite?
Or am I a shadow lost to the night?

Oh, sea so wide, oh, sea so tall,
have you no mercy, none at all?
Carry him back, bring him to me,
my heart is adrift, lost at sea.

i am all alone
please don't lie and say
i am loved
because that's simply not true
life is pointless
why would you ever say
there's hope for me

(now read bottom up)

Did you ever
a dandelion pick,
blow each seed
and make a wish.

Was that wish,
a wish for wealth
or was that wish
a wish for health?

Or was that wish
a wish to see,
a field of gold
in front of thee.

I love it
flabby arms
wrinkly skin
stretchy marks
magical characteristics
wonderful years
awesome lives
from here to there
to be or not to be
without question
we're still standing
my lover my friend.

I often think about my dad
And just how much I miss him
I miss the walks, the times we'd talk
Where he taught me how to be a man

How many years have passed us by
Since that day he lost his life
Still remember the bout, I let it all out
And allowed myself to break down and cry

Both a father and a friend
Always there with open hands
Never one to judge in his compassion and love
Handy with a hug when I most needed him

I'd be happy to be half the man
As the man that I called Dad
Always did his best, never expected any less
You can rest in that fact about him

Always a stickler for the truth
Whether or not you win or lose
The important thing was integrity
He drilled into me from my early youth

And that is why I often think
Of the man I called Dad that helped raise me
All that I owe to the one who never let go
Even though long ago he left the scene

What can I say, to this day
I still miss my Daddy...

Our heros keep exiting the stage,
Leaving us their music, art, film, and literature.
Their athletic accomplishments,
Their political discretions,
And hidden battlescars,
Their scientific and medical wonders.
Our ancestors left us the wheel and fire,
The family unit and our extended compatriots.
A good lineage always starts in the cave,
And helps us make it through the night.