If you were here I’d lie messily on top of you to double the hallelujah of meeting you once, forever, last year. Do you remember how we recognized each other somewhere in the folded corner of a yearbook? You teased me, high school jokes that made me laugh; made the guavas, no longer bitter, ripen…

You are a numbers kind of guy machines, sharp angles, and symmetrical bridges between legs excite you. Logic makes you pause and consider the many ways we come together so neatly. Whereas I don’t even try to add you plus me, I just enjoy the equation. Trees outside, sidewalk chalk, and intangible things thrill me….

Damp skin catches salt sticky water churns beneath and the lace of my skirt clings hard to your legs like cobwebs to a strong wind. The stars, our lives make us restless so we play with the tangents of mystery in the strange moonlight. My shadow, honest and unafraid dives into the deep night.

The Makali’i will rise in the sky soon signifying the time of Makahiki. These haikus written some years ago recall that observance on Kaho’olawe.

This is in memory of Wendy Machado…died 10-01-08…go in peace.

This is a birthday poem written last year for my grandson La’akeaomaunalei. It evokes places on Lana’i – where part of his name comes from the clouds (maunalei) that converge each afternoon over the island.

We live in a time, my friend, where genius in art and science is measured in money. We live in a time, where beauty is only acknowledged, if it can be sold. We live in a time, where Goethe and Schiller would never be published, a time where Shakespeare would end as a curbside beggar,…

Here is my attempt to capture the power of nature in words.

I live in Hawaii But I am not Hawaiian. Only parts of my human soul festooned with plumerias dripping sea water Nut brown voices singing in my head. Living in a miracle Daily walking points of light Suspended in a dream Lived out by other humans Long before I got here. heiaus now calling their…

Inspired from the many stories my father used to tell me.