Blue skies
and not a cloud in sight.

and whisperings reach far,
mocked goodbyes
and the scent of pine.

connect
with nature,
disconnect from your heart.
we come from dust and to dust we return.

oh! did you skin your knees?
no? just one?
that's OK, brush it off,
return to dust.

lying beside a fallen tree,
flowers grow from your mouth,
your brain; the perfect nutrient
for a sappling.
return to dust.

feel the dirt in your fingers,
feel the sun on your face,
feel the wind through your shirt,
return to dust.

no rain for California,
no relief from the relentless,
we owe gratitude to the dinosaurs
in this age of gasoline.
return to dust;
fuel the next generation's gasoline driven engines,
return to dust.

I did not make these words,
I only choose where to put them.
I put all these here for you.

We are made of bones and muscle and water,
And I don't want to remember the last time that you held her,

Her bones too heavy for her weightless frame, as she mopped up your sins and took all the blame.

Us humans, we're made out of atoms and star dust,
Slowly sinking to hell through the dirt of the earths crust.
And you can walk through the flames alone if you must,
And you can dress yourself in metal and wait til you rust,
You can spit accusations until you feel you're just,

Tomorrow a train will pull into a station, and a man on an altar will make his declaration,
And tell her he loves her and tell her he cares, and then the same night take her sister downstairs,

And where is the moon when the sea needs it's tide? It stays right in sight with no place to hide. No need to assure, it will rise in time.

We are made out of passion and ******* and lies,
And we kiss our mothers before we open our thighs
And we put our heads in hands to muffle our cries


Your morning coffee tastes bitter in the afternoon,
And you always leave my bed too soon.

I'm made out of ashes and you're made out of flames
And when the dust settles, we are quite the same.
And I know what it means to be brave when I say your name.

I knew i would have to say goodbye when I said hello and I thought that was painful enough.

I let myself love you,
I had a choice and this was the first time it was difficult to love someone.
Not because of you
but because of your near departure.

I sleep in the same bed, but it's not mine anymore, it's your.
It'll be a few weeks before all your hairs are stripped from the sheets
And it'll be a lot longer before I stop loving you.

You want to believe and I want to believe and I didn't lie the first time I told you I'd see you again and I don't intend on ever lying to you.

It’s an
odd comfort
that it is
always raining somewhere
Old watering cans
collecting water
Tawny pines
lofty, sighing in the mist.

When my bones
are laid out
like a picket fence
in a wooden coat
they will drink
with the roots
and stone
and earth.

And when I am but
dust or atoms it will still rain
maybe I will be bricks
in a building
or some tarmac slab
something functional
or a peony flower
or even forget-me-nots
it will still rain
and I will be gone.

I cry by the creek
and it gurgles a reply.
I flick an ant into the water,
I want it to die.

The one I want to die
better him than me.
Today I want to live.
Today I am happy.

I hear the creek.
I find peace by the water.
I was born not a man
but a fisherman's daughter.

I listen to the trees,
for they have a lot to say.
I fall asleep by the creek;
an end to a lovely day.