There once was a woman
Who had three daughters
The eldest, Rain, was often moody, but always caring
The middle child, Sun, was cynical and hot-headed
The youngest, Wind, was free spirited, but often clumsy and careless

There once was a woman
Whose three daughters ran away
They ran
Until they could run no more

Then they lay on the forest floor
And melted into the dirt
Never to be seen as little girls again

There once was a man
Who loved a woman
Who loved three girls
Who melted into the dirt

There once was a couple
Who cried when it Rained
Who screamed when it was Windy
and who sobbed when it was Sunny

There once was a couple
Who simply gave up
And melted into the dirt

Toothless grins, gummy smiles
Eyes like saucers and lashes that rest on
Perfect cheeks, like a priceless painting
Child of mine, you are a work of art
A part of me - the best and truest form
Why couldn't you stay that way?
Dependent on me, always seeking my hand
My lap, or shoulder
The shelter of my arms
Encircling you in a ring
Of protective motherly love
My heart breaks and weeps
For anyone who has not known such love
It is the highest high and fragrant as a flower
I breathe deep and inhale you
Knowing you won't stay this way forever
I want to hold you close once more
And feel your tiny arms around my neck
I long to hear your squeaky voice and soft lisp
Just one more time
Child of mine, you grew too fast
And even though I thought I wouldn't
I let so many precious days slip through my fingers
And now you have a child of your own
Another blue eyed girl to love and cherish
It's almost like having you back for one more
Childhood dream
And now you too will know how it feels
To love a daughter

Guide her. However, expect that she will consider your advice apathetically—it's an inescapable affair. She will think that she has it all figured out and you're not one to lecture her on this matter. And then, only then when her heart is cut into ribbons will she realize that your voice was sound, only then, will she come to you for insight. That is, if she's even brave enough to talk to you about it. Be vigilant, instill sound teaching, unbendable values, and pray that our Holiness will escort her to the right man.

Come Moroccan blue,
Wrought a Tokyo twilight;
The tangled neon, Guangzhou,
Ought London fog or gloom –
Entity’d ‘ever end with me.

So when gods plays jokes
Come a second near and nigh,
I’d nearly utter, “amen,”
Atop a belly, soon and son’s first cry –
I am a father; above, eternity’d grin.

So my plane kisses pavement, tepid,
Wrought one mother waiting; and
All I’d ran from, all abandoned,
Is now the only that’d welcome.
I’d never thought to nest, and yet –

Arrived, with straw in mouth.

the leaves fall
and the trees groan
with the wind
and God is in each of us

we breathe
and bees circle; crowning our heads
the let us be -
they can feel us breathe
(they know we are just learning)

we fly
over the sound of our mother's cries
we soar
over the quiet echo of our father's worries
(we are above)
and God is in each of us

we breathe
and we are not afraid
no,
we are not afraid

i let my hair down
and my tired with it
if you listen you can hear
(the rest of the world is letting go too)

My day died an abrupt death. Ignominious.

At the hands (and lips) of my own mother.

Yet another broken thread, burning bridge,

lost key to a door shut in your face without a parting kiss.

Ce la ma vie.

I know her intimately and not at all,
Her fragrance infiltrates, chases me,
A whiff off the tips of my fingers,
The smell of her is hunger,
It makes me wont to wolf and devour,
Her flush on the flat of my tongue,
Her angel whisper,
Our quiet choir a pleasure,
A harmony,
A crescendo until we seed and mute.
Between us,
Our damp swap,
A no man’s land,
A moist design,
The map of lust.
The art of love is always,
In its stains.

There was no one at the funeral
No one there to say goodbye
It took them two whole weeks to find him
No one knew that he had died

Set out in the countryside
A farm with lots of land
He died there in his easy chair
It was just, but not as planned

We grew up there with no neighbors
Just a dad and his three girls
No one heard our screaming
In our pinies and our curls

THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?

It's my task to clean out the house
To get rid of all that's here
There's memories in every room
And nightmares too, I fear

The scent of Borkhum Riff
Still hangs lightly in the air
I remember it as he lay down
It was in his clothes and hair

I can smell his after shave cologne
In the living room, it lingers
I remember lying silent
As he probed me with his fingers

THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?

Boxes of old memories
To discard of and move out
I don't want to take them with me
Not with the memories about

My bedroom, like the others
Sits unchanged through out the years
There isn't many smiles there
Just dirt amongst the tears

I wonder as I go outside
To get a break from all the smells
I know he's not in heaven
My daddy's down in hell

THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?

As time goes by know what I
Must do with this old place
I must obliterate it from my mind
And build a new house in it's place

Five miles from the closest farm
All alone with none around
I can free myself form the nightmare
If I burn it to the ground

I call up both my sisters
Knowing what he did to me
He wouldn't be selective
He did it to all three

THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?

Through arguments and logic
I lay out to them my plan
They tell me they will come home
They'll be there when they can

The day arrives as do the girls
We start the plan out in the patch
We've each one can of gasoline
And we each have just one match

The house burns rather quickly
Oily smoke it fills the air
The only thing that's missing
Is that the monster isn't there.

Leave my mother for a life without bassinets
Walk out while attempting to cover your tracks

I have lived my existence without knowing
You may be absent, but your mark is exposing

Irish blood courses through your veins
In mine, the green, white, and orange do the same

The emerald in my eyes does not come from my mother’s side
It appeared from yours, along with my pigmentation – pearly white

Still, I know not the sound of your voice
I have not seen you in person or in print; though it is not my choice

Do I want to picture the man who departed because of my conception?
The man who saw my existence as more than a bump in the road (and the belly)?

Father, you are not worthy of my imagination
But, you are the undesirable inspiration

In disappearing, you left me with an unwanted impression
You are not suitable enough for this poetic expression

You are the salt and I am the sea
And I cannot separated you from me