For a brief moment we escape to an afternoon of delight as boys and girls clutching one another peering over shoulders viewing the expanding shadow of daily responsibilities and a baby cries a child weeps a baby sitter looks at her watch all waiting.

It annoyed me that my parents always wanted to know last names, especially if the person I was talking about was a potential date. I knew it was their way of categorizing people. “Plantation days are over, we don’t live in separate camps, it doesn’t matter if he’s Oriental or what kind Oriental he is!”…

     “Free Hugs. $5!”      For some reason, no one took up his offer.      “I don’t get your sign,” said a blonde lady in a shiny Mercedes Benz. “If it’s free, why is it $5?”      Before Frank could explain that nothing in life was free, blondie rolled up her window and sped away, as the light at…

“You just revealed a side of yourself I didn’t know you had.” “Which side would that be?” “The delusional.” “My bad. Should I hum ‘The Missouri Waltz’ on my way out?” “To prove or to disprove?” “Neither. Just to do it.” “Don’t hum. Whistle.” “I’ll hum.” He hums. Nobody laughs or tries to sing along.

You know, it seems whenever we take the cab home from our usual Saturday night jaunt into Waikiki, first to drop off Kaipo, then myself, something really weird happens. I mean really weird. And I swear, I never touch cheap, maple-syrup Mai Tais when we go drinking in Waikiki.  The weirdness begins like this. We…

Now in Thailand, eighteen months, long past marveling at ancient Buddha figures and ruined temples. Climbed the 290 steps of the Naga staircase; it was a small event and I knew better than to gloat. An old man extended his hand at descent but no one took up his offer. Sleeping dog on serpent step…

Red rose in her hand petals caressing her cheek eyes close, thoughts of me

green buds thrive in spring love shapes our long years falling moving back in time I give you my love hard true high and passionate you held in my arms in love’s pure circumference geometry burns colder than hottest passion for only true love and all that can mean for two leaving us breathless yes…

There is no word limit for your entries. HOWEVER, we are also looking for haiku entries, if you are so inclined : ) The triggers for this month are lines taken from the following two texts. Find them here: BAMBOO RIDGE Issue Number 92, MORNINGSIDE HEIGHTS, by Joe Tsujimoto. BAMBOO RIDGE Issue Number 93, ISLANDS…

Poho I sighed before washing dishes at my parents’ home in Kaneohe; sheets of drying plastic wrap must first be removed from the dish rack. Mom reuses them to cover small plates of pickled radish or boiled tofu. “Poho throw away.” Waste! The good cups, if used at all, compete for space on this same…