Hawai‘i Literature & Art
— Since 1978 —
It’s becoming a bit obvious that I need to talk to somebody — anybody will do, anybody who will deign to put up with the likes of me. The radio might tide me over, if I could get it perking, but even at full volume there’s not a hint of static. Maybe I should get…
Music rings, chuckles through COVID-19’s dark orbit, the beating wings of blue birds over rainbows raised by elbows, the whispering sway of kaholos in rhythm to flashes of IZ out of a Bluetooth sound system. We practice hula on the stage of an empty outdoor amphitheater, masked, six-feet apart. A fluid grace unmoors us from…
in five large black plastic pots on my lānai, watering, and fertilized with care, I am satisfied, bear the slight tremor in my hands that grows more visible, so much so that I sometimes hide them when I talk with people, self-conscious, suspicious they may be staring at this infirmity judging me, he can till soil…
You now call me an old man An over the hill seventy-one-year old But you have no idea at all What you are looking at You see the rough bark Of the old tree Not the rings of age Of experience, laughter and pain You see the brownish decaying leafs Fluttering hesitantly towards…
Aloha, aloha, aloha. Dis da tird an las prompt for Novembah. 100 words only. Not 99, not 101, but 100 words on da nosy-lani. from “Painted Passages” by Gail N. Harada 1. The even weave of the canvas becomes a familiar as childhood, perhaps an expanse of sky or sea the ground we walk on…
figured it’s time to visit Zippy’s again not the restaurant the take-out, where food is less expensive and you can still sit down if you so desire the cashier was pretty but about fifty years beyond my age group I ordered my favorite chili and cheese fries the cheapest way to seriously add calories and…
Flying down Kamehameha Hwy towards Haleiwa at eighty miles. Suddenly, sirens and blue light behind me. I slow down, stop on the side of the road. Young police officer walking towards my car. “Uncle, what you doing speeding?” It is Jake, one of my son’s friends. “You know I should be citing you, but hey,…
I wrote like a madman Poured my whole soul into it At least what I thought was my soul Didn’t answer the phone Forgot to shave and didn’t brush my teeth Struggled to find my muse in the bottle Only to get drunk earlier than usual Strived to make great literature Out of the mad…
When I Am Gone There’s something about stones that lure us to remember loved ones who have passed on. At my father’s grave, we stand hip-cocked or sit, chatting about Sissie’s new boyfriend, and life on this side of heaven. I wistfully look at my Dad’s gravestone. My boys say, “No need for you, Ma! …
We Are Made Of Star Stuff Carl Sagan got it right, It’s just that it gets buried From everyday shit That pile on and on You know what I mean, The baby born before high school graduation, The welfare and food stamps used with head held high, The HPD husband who fooled around And even…