Category: Hawaii

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A Small Swell on a Thursday Afternoon

  I hold up my hand. The light breeze swifts a droplet of ocean onto my chin and the twinkling lights of a Waikiki late afternoon cruise beneath my epoxy board.

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On Writing a Poem in the Morning

  green mint tea seeps around the rim of the garden plate ductile : serpentine I set the cup down and it clatters. It’s about how to see the things how to get to the vision the tea cup is significant and not a step in that direction.

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Piece by Piece

  In the sudsy bathtub with my lover hot & content, one finger fiddling a weeping joint we soak in lavender & hold each other ; slippery skin to skin.

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101 bpm

Wisps of sainthood waft about this living room— give me flamenco, give me Persian rhythms and sweet gypsy jazz, swing it all out of speakers perched high on the cabinet counter. Bits of wild wind shoot through the second story windows, running from the belching mountains beyond the poplar trees in the backyard. The gusts lift the melodies and snuggle them into marrow-bones, into … Read More 101 bpm

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Phytophile

Beyond the ribbed panes of the kitchen window swings a gorgeous plum and yellow philodendron; sweeping lacquered leaves catch the breeze half in split leaf, half monstera, a good name for such a beast! She belongs to our neighbor, who carefully disregards her day after day, neutrally striving to feed her natural sunlight (9-9:30 a.m.) and a sprinkle of cloud water from the Mountains … Read More Phytophile

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Fresh Fish with Aloha!

  he called out, his knotted arm, knitted and purled, pumping a bucket the size of a table. I heard his low voice as I walked by him, say to his boy holding the rods that no one’s biting these days no one’s calling. I imagined him, then, standing on that barnacle-crusted pier, two rods in hand fishing for people. Scooping up chums who … Read More Fresh Fish with Aloha!

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Breath Work

  She sighs, constantly. Always the sigh, sighing herself to wishful elegance, whisking the whites to rising peaks, she counts herself backward,

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Sonnets of Indigo

  Water droplets bead up from the small slice in this surfboard; epoxy got nothing when it comes to run ins, when it comes to used boards and low budgets. When it comes to this universe; what I think I might want; the cat who stretches himself beside me– I got nothing. Petting the cat, he purrs then bites me. I got nothing. Nothing … Read More Sonnets of Indigo

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127 Percent

  Evening light pales into my windows from behind the palms, piloting in a fruity breeze to stir the pages at my desk. I’m 30 percent writing, 25 percent sipping tea, 9 percent listening to jazz beats & 63 percent certain my poetic Muse has taken the day off.

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Ahead

  In the azure distance sails a boat with one triangle sail, bowing east, heading east. Her going is unnoticed by those practicing yoga, spinning frisbees, balancing on purple slack-lines at this grassy knoll at the base of the volcano. I cannot take my eyes off her, so sure of herself, so pointed— something so certain of direction deserves applause.

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Lewis Wharf, Boston; 1978

  Fall colors warm her sweet face, deep reds and blushing oranges snuggling into the gentle wrinkles at her cheeks; the low light off the fading greens bounce from the brown of her sweater to my eyes, the softness I cannot myself believe. Contained in one tiny, aging human is the breath of ages seen and past— each petite wrinkle is a memory of … Read More Lewis Wharf, Boston; 1978

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Soften the Jaw

  & tell the abyss the darkness is temporary. The moonlight is warming & the breeze which sweeps transposes the seeds and growth is in the underbrush. Tell the abyss it’s nearly dawn—that time runs parallel to furrowed brows and intersects