Hawai‘i Literature & Art
— Since 1978 —
Aloha BR ʻohana and readers, This is Hawaiian History Month. I often ask myself, what do I know about our monarchs? How did they shape our history? How do our history books shape them? This is my manaʻo. We Five Kings: Nā Kamehameha ʻElima ʻEkahi The legend, the conqueror, the naʻi aupuni, filled our history…
The Blue in the Stratosphere There is a light gleaming From across the vast and empty sea It is blue, like headlights from a distant far off place of stars Death It wears on a human like a robe of shining stars Like the pirouette of a dancer Like violets toward a distant moon…
Aloha everyone! Bamboo Buckeroo is off on a fabulous adventure so here’s a prompt list from me instead. But in the words of the Buckeroo, “Remember, these prompts are only suggestions. Feel free to write about anything you choose. Pieces in any language are welcome, and no translation is required. However, you might reach a…
I’m eight years old and itching to become a hero. My great-grandpa’s yard in Wahiawā is steeped in enchantment, and I’ve not yet been trained not to see it. Great-grandpa and I built a wagon together two summers ago, and as I carefully pack it with necessities for my quest, I sense that I’m being…
My guardian angel wasn’t there to protect me When my nose sucked in gobs of chlorinated water My eyes stinging and my nostrils power snorting Me floundering around in a whirl of delight My sinuses flushed and lungs gasping for duty No, he wasn’t there to see me do it This first time feat for…
A Farewell Toast (eulogy for a sandwich) I am not dressed appropriately for this, with a red mess of guts on my blouse. Your guts. Yellow bits of little yous drying on my chest. You were a summer tomato that tasted like fall, warm and bright but on its way out. Fresh off the vine…
It’s kaukau time at Tutu chan’s house, she taught me how to save every grain of rice when you wash and every grain from the pot when you save leftover rice. She treated each grain like it was a tiny, gold nugget. At sunset, we would sit on the front porch. The steady buzz of…
VOICE By: Sasha Farmer Being gifted with the ability to speak, But being told to shut up left me weak. Day in and day out being seen but not heard, Left feelings of joy all blurred. Screaming and yelling in my head is all I could do, Destructive behaviors is all I knew. Wanting…
It was great to see new faces submit pieces in July. I hope to see more from you, and I also hope to see some of our regulars post a piece or two. Remember, these prompts are only suggestions. Feel free to write about anything you choose. Pieces in any language are welcome, and no…
An off-island CHamoru dreams of plastic jugs filled to the brim with pickled mangoes and papaya. Freshly made titiyas, both flour and månha. On summer nights, niyok cut with a machete husked, cracked, and free. We dream of ocean waves flowing onto sand, morning glory vines caressing grains, a water so clear and warm, you…