Hawai‘i Literature & Art
— Since 1978 —
My challenge was the Golden Shovel: A newer form, inspired by Gwendolyn Brooks. I took a line from an existing poem and used each word as the end word in my own lines. This is the line from the poem I chose. There is no greater sorrow than to recall our times of joy in…
Food near but far Gaza markets Old war no die
We thought was going be pau by Christmas Dey nevah like start for talk yet Dey said gotta teach lessons People no mo kau kau No mo hospital Da land bus up. How you feel? My tale Pau
Aloha BR ‘Ohana, Missed the deadline of last month’s Shoots assignment. I composed a poem based on an ancient tale of the Māori people called Rona. The English translation follows. Hope you enjoy it. A tale of ancient times in a drought-ridden ʻāina. Te Kete, te Tahā Wai ā te Rākau Ngaio Kore wai…
Aloha BR readers, If you nevah read “Lomeo and Iulieki — one pidgin tragedy” part one and part two, mo bettah go back and catch up. Bumbye going be too confusing. Part Three Lomeo had blood All ovah his white t-shirt. Dat same night He wen sneak up Da big, white plumeria tree Fo…
Aloha BR readers, If you nevah read “Lomeo and Iulieki — one pidgin tragedy” last month, mo bettah go back and catch up. Bumbye going be too confusing. Da two sweethearts wen make one plan One secret wedding in Vegas, Some day. But fo now, Iulieki gotta go back home Bumbye da maddah and faddah…
Wuz one hot August night In fair Kapahulu Under one full, moon of da egg of da Golden Duck. Gang fights Da Wong ʻohana Against Da Mahi ʻohana Big, big beefs ʻOhana against ʻohana On da basketball court At da bus stop At Alex Drive In. Big beefs Going get mo trouble. Finally, da judge…
Is it too late in life to write about my wedding in the summer of 65? I felt my moʻopuna needed to know. I’m not sure why it took me so long to write this but here goes. It’s an oppressively hot summer, in Honolulu, the year is 1965. I’m Faye Sing and I’m…
Loke Swims Like Ka poʻe Moananuiākea Oceania’s people. Where do they come from? We’re all supposed to be one beeeg ʻohana. That’s what archaeologists say. Transported On the first wave Transported on the first broad current like seeds in the wind, scattering scattering. On the sinking islands of Moananuiākea. Loke ponders. Who were they? Who…
This is da room dat nevah change. So many years gone by, but we keep em da way it was. Wen Tutu lived in it. I nevah met her. But I know her, I tink I know her. Sometimes, I even tink she stay inside da closet, moving around in her muʻumuʻus. I smell da…