Parents live in the shadow of the pali,
watching the young ones play.
They are reminded of the ones they left behind
in the world on the other side of the mountains.
And as they shut their eyes each night they know
their existence in the child's life is fading.
Can you hear them weeping?
All they do is live in the past.

The keiki live in the shadow of the pali,
tumbling around like rushing of water.
Running, twirling, and jumping;
They learn to dance in the shadows.
And as their eyes shut each night,
their quilt embraces their cold, shaking body.
They have long forgotten the touch;
their mother's lips on their foreheads,
and the warmth of their father's arms.
Can you hear them sleeping?
All they do is live in the present.

The old live in the shadow of the pali,
sitting on the chairs we have built
when we arrived so very long ago.
We have watched the young boys grow into men,
and the babies grow into young girls.
Storytelling and singing songs,
wishing to make a mark before we leave.
The best we do to create a better ohana.
Can you hear us teaching?
All we do is live in the future.

We are the people of Kalaupapa living in the shadows of the pali.
We are the forgotten, the left behind.
We watch as souls leave a lifeless body each day,
but our cheeks are no longer stained with tears.
No longer do we waste these tears that create an ocean.
A great love has created within our community.
Intertwined fingers connect the past, present, and future,
We are of a great diversity.
We have learned to enjoy the time we have left
and learned to love people no matter who they are.
Tonight we gather around the fire, dancing.
We live in the shadows, but we are the ones shining.
Can you hear our singing?

When I realized you were done and gone,
I went to the beach where we had spent one of our first nights together. Drove down the pitch black roads, walked down the empty path. Not a soul in sight I laid on desolate beach. Under starry sky the breeze was just the same, a light drizzle of rain came my way, and I sat there waiting for the droplets to sink in, the way I was waiting for you. I stared up at the moon, wondering if maybe you were looking it too. It was in that moment all I wanted, all I wished for, was to be able to lay on your chest, and fall asleep once more like that night before. You were the best peace I had ever known, but now here all alone, all I have I have is the chaos in my soul.

Brown boys on the beach
All of them are great
So many just out of reach
Because most are straight.
Something close to mocha;
Unbelievably **** skin.
Some of it looks like heaven
And some of it purest sin.

Brown boys in shorts
Just covering bare *****;
Impervious to winks and
Any kind of gay passes.
But I hear rumors of them;
Legends may be a better word.
Gay things have been known
To happen with them I’ve heard.

Brown boys bare chested
Showing off their physiques.
Proud of that they take care of
Best I’ve seen in weeks.
It’s not that white boys here
Are that much less appealing
But there is something about
The way I have been feeling.

Brown boys can flirt here
In a way I have never seen.
It’s flattering without invitation;
Never insulting, never mean.
Someday I will get braver
And ask one of them to teach
How to tell which one is gay
Of those brown boys on the beach.

Thank you
Please

I love you sometimes
I don't want to.
I want to
I'd **** to
I'm going to **** you
I'd love to be killed by
Knowing you
To be known by you
I'd know we'd do
Love like I never
Knew. And you
Wouldn't creep my dreams as much.

Roaming through the twisted trunks
Of the jungle trees
High on the mist laden mountain,
Rustling in the undergrowth,
Searching for Life's bounty
In the dry, rusted dirt,
Chipping away at the mystery
Of your land,
Feral and free