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About Me

Poet, sage and raconteur, possessed with the uncanny ability to spin a yarn at the drop of a hat without resorting to cliche. Keeper and vigilant steward of the only word known to rhyme with orange. More recently, founder and CEO of H.A.R.P. Hawaiian Attire Rescue Program.

My Interests

I'd like to meet:

Leonard Cohen, Jane Goodall, Bob Dylan, Lara Logan, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Christy Turlington, Richard Rodriguez, Heidi Collins and Bill Gates.

My Blog

You Never Ever Know

Be thankful for the little thingslike the laughter of your friends,A warm Seattle summerwith days that never end,A child on his first bikea father letting go,Be thankful for the little things'cause yo...
Posted by on Sun, 12 Sep 2010 17:31:00 GMT

Luna

  She calls her vessel Luna she sails through the sky, she reads her mail by moonlight under heaven's watchful eye   The two of them are inseparable together they'll make a stand, and gracef...
Posted by on Sat, 26 Jan 2008 22:10:00 GMT

Idyllic World

 There's some unknown callingconcealed within my soulwhich cries to be attended toand triesto take control,and though its source lies secretits prophecies are hurledat some idyllic visionof some ...
Posted by on Sun, 16 Sep 2007 13:34:00 GMT

In the time of AIDS

  I hugged a man with AIDS today I hugged him then I held his hand It's something that won't go away and something I don't understand   It strikes the strong, both straight and gay infecting...
Posted by on Sun, 16 Sep 2007 06:29:00 GMT

Cartographer

  Something leads me back to her,   A sextant   a star,   a memory from the past;   silently urging me onward,   as if longing could be charted on a map   @copyright...
Posted by on Sun, 16 Sep 2007 06:21:00 GMT

Blue

  I went to the desert and rediscovered water through the pale blue eyes of a girl from Alberta   We met in Maricopa on the Sunset Limited Line she was running out of money running out of ti...
Posted by on Sun, 16 Sep 2007 06:13:00 GMT

The House by the Bay

  She sits with her silence in the house by the bay the tide washes in and her dreams float away if only she'd listened to what her heart had to say then perhaps there'd be happiness in the house...
Posted by on Sun, 16 Sep 2007 06:08:00 GMT

Song For Abby

  You guard the gilded chapel your eyes a solemn sentry your heart a secret passageway for those permitted entry   A place of timeless beauty, silent and serene some will come to worship, so...
Posted by on Sun, 16 Sep 2007 05:59:00 GMT

Collateral Damage

  There's a photo of a soldier with a baby in his arms, shattered glass and twisted steel the constant din of tripped alarms, Al-Qaida in Afghanistan insurgents in Iraq, somebody's father is...
Posted by on Sun, 09 Sep 2007 22:01:00 GMT