Just the big empty hand of a would-be prophet
Lost in the vast void of his empty pocket
Filled with only fear and shame and blinding rage
His fist clenched inside that so empty cloth cage
Slated to live a life that no one sees fit

He has nothing left to hide from anyone
Living life lower than the prodigal son
None think to pick the pocket of a pauper
Who would even find it to be improper
Why save a man who’s crushed by the weight of none

Because the rain refused to fall
And the load kept me from standing tall
I couldn’t walk that line
Had no way to pay the fine
The music didn’t play the band
And I couldn’t see the beauty in this land
Until I got to share it all
To share it all with you

I needed someone to push me beyond
I needed someone with whom to bond
I needed a partner in crime
I needed someone always in their prime
I needed to lose at hide and seek
I needed to feel the thrill of a fervent peek
As long as I can see me in your eyes, I’ll be home
Home in you

The days no longer seem so dark and long
The air is always filled with song
The mountains aren’t so high
I'm no longer afraid to try
Or conquer that self-made foe
I'm no longer confused by which way to go
Because the right path is always the one we’re on
The one we’re on

bare, bud, green, going
winter claims the land
with a skeleton hand of bare trees
writing its stark song upon
the white white snow
in shadows
long, thin, black, and sharp

bud, green, going, bare
the spring sends small green spies
to see if the earth is ready
ready to try again
to shake the sleep of winter
from the hopeful eyes of spring

green, going, bare, bud
summer crowds the world with green
filling in all the spaces
like a child coloring outside the lines
full of life
and bustle
overflowing with the thoughts of eternity

going, bare, bud, green
the leaves are a kaleidoscopic scream of color
the land rages with its dying
showing all what will be missed
the last bright light of beauty before the
long white sleep

When I was young I yearned to be a hero
To feel the adulation of the crowd
To feel the damsel in distress pressed against my chest
Tearfully expressing her wonderlove into my shoulder

But with age came understanding
Understanding that a yearning hero needs a villain
A single minded evil that pursues the hero
Obsessed with his demise at any and all cost

So to wish to be a hero
Is to wish for evil
And for the distress of the damsel
To burden her with the obligation of gratitude

This is the reality of all yearning heroes
All my childhood heroes carry this sin
I unknowingly worshiped at the alter of greed
The greed of a needy soul

With age comes understanding
Understanding that true heroes are so only in retrospect
A true hero is surprised by their deeds
Pulled to the job by forces unseen
left shaking by the deed
yearning only to slip back into obscurity
This is the true hero

The face of almost all
CPR dummies is modeled from
one person.
A young,
unknown
French girl
This girl
took her own life
She jumped
off a bridge.
She drown
that day.
Now millions
have been saved
from drowning
because of her
She is L'Inconnue ingénue

​
I think at heart
I am a lighthouse keeper
I love the sea
or rather seeing the sea
But for me
I like to be
in the lighthouse keep

Face to the sea and light at my back
My shadow thrown large over the open water
On the line between Gaia and Poseidon
The dance between earth and sea
It is where I belong
Where I feel at peace

dying is an art and i,
i have become an artist

i am not living my life but
orchestrating my death

i paint with sweeping strokes of self-imposed misery  
upon the white pages of the remaining days

they will be so sad
they will miss me when i go

they will