Hawai‘i Literature & Art
— Since 1978 —
I reported for GJ duty on Jan. 4, 2008 – about 195 people present with about 29 no shows. When announced that people could seek being excused about 20 people lined up, but as the rest of us sat the line grew longer, adding a few at a time until there were about 50 people…
I’m sleeping, I think; this has the vivid feeling of a dream. Before my house was rebuilt, a huge mango tree stood in the front yard. Somehow sitting on those long gone steps leading up to the former lānai and front door, I hear a voice call out my name, a small, high one, barely…
Those lucky enough to own a 2022 Ansel Adams wall calendar open to April can view dogwoods blossoming copiously in bright spring rain above Tanaya Creek in 1950’s Yosemite. In 1950’s Old Belfair Highway, the Union River a hundred yards behind my house looked like the Adams photo in springtime, but the dogwoods were less…
Tonight in the Madison Concourse Hotel, I know this place did not replace the Strand Theater, but a few steps from here, on the Square, something, a parking structure, an office building, something newer, sits on the spot where the Strand once stood. I have not yet been replaced. I’m still standing, back here in…
April’s for fools, some say it’s cruel, however you see it, here are the rules. We’ll go for 100 words minimum again. Again, prompts are only suggestions. Please write whatever you’d like to write. The main thing is to write. Getting our writing exercise. It’s good to do. Deadlines are good for writers. Good discipline….
It turns out we don’t use names much anyway to confirm that we’re all part of The Movement to End All War Forever and other absurd notions having to do with social and economic equity that could quickly and easily be achieved if the pigs would just legalize pot so everyone could share the bliss…
I was born in a land of English speakers, where parents believed speaking English was the key to success. My father was only a first-generation American English speaker. His parents, both born and raised in Korea but living here, spoke Korean only, sadly could never communicate with me, except through my father, believed, too, that…
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…
Words leak outside their decibel range, float down the hall, lap at thin walls, waking up sister–the start of a new choreography. 4 a.m. Mom at dad’s bedside waiting for a deposit once done independently, with primitive efficiency, a simple trip to the bathroom erased by unrelenting pain–the master of a new existence. 4 a.m….
Recently, Ricotta, named after the cheese but in a kind and loving way, and her mother moved into an old and friendly looking house along the highway. The house was the shape of the houses children draw when they are learning to draw houses: a roof like a triangle sitting on a box, two windows…