Category: Hawaii
+ Hawaii, Nature, North America, Poetry
Balanced
by Josie
Look out the window sometime; with the bold winds dancing throughthe Banyan trees it’s pretty in a lanced way, a little bodega in the neighborhood-way. From the balcony, I can hear gentle laughter of soccer boys and soccer girls kicking dogwood trees instead of soccer balls. Damn, if it doesn’t get me every time. If I were older, I would have fled the sceneand left the dimes and dollars for a … Read More Balanced
Blue Jays
by Josie
Tough. (I don’t feel tough though, my tongue is on the gritty floor and covered in dirt anddebris from a weekend of debauchery. I don’t feel anything other than tired.) I’m told the blue jays mate even when they’re dying, as if evolution could not hold a reverent bow for the last breath of an angry bird. Supposedly that attitude was in the contract I signed a year ago, though the … Read More Blue Jays
Rhapsody of a Geode
by Josie
Grace dissolves the graceless rendering rock stone againbone again time and time again I coat the palms of my hands with a working class mentality. Having made this I forget what to do with it.
The Idea of Order
by Josie
Here I am, an old woman in the hooded doorway of a young woman’s life the twist of my hand like a spent willow from a distance a sapling unbentthe nature of the willow. I have lost objectivism. Why should I keep it? What good has my rooting in the ashes donebut smear the blackened ink against the window-pane like an early frost. My doorway is wide. I can see the … Read More The Idea of Order
A Net to Snare the Sunlight
by Josie
Regard the sun. She winks with lashes tall as liesshe smooths the edges of her liquidgrin and calls the birds to flight before my eyes. Can but even one crab make it across the black lava rock before the tide folds itself once more upon the shore? I would extend my stick to him if I could, but my hands dissolveagainst the wood and I come to rest. Three o’clock. Ticking. Ticking. … Read More A Net to Snare the Sunlight
Plot Against the Giant
by Josie
The willow won’t swaythe sage won’t scent the goldfinch won’t nest the life vest will not inflate the eyes won’t widen the sun won’t care the ink won’t flow the war-lords will not congregatethe clouds won’t lift the swans shall stay put endlessly the sea to be a never-ending barren witlessness& the darkness never felt The tongue is a dream.Nothings happens unless first a dream.
Gravy
by Josie
Self-reliance is the wind coming through the prayer flags whistling like a pair of overalls on a hot autumn’s day. The gravy’s cooling and the counter is clean and strong as the willowthat boy doesn’t bow. The front door opensso soft and sweeping his lover comes home her arms full of rain —
Preparations for a Cycle Journey
by Josie
It’s pleasing to the mind to findthat I have everything I need. All I hadpreviously reckoned sub-par, I now wagglemy fairy wand at and pronounce: ample. Ambition, improvement, constant venturing to be better than average, this shit is addicting. From the top of the stone towerto the daisy chains below, I cannot get enough. To now breathe deeply, objectively assess, let the senses take wind with the changes in … Read More Preparations for a Cycle Journey
the Hydrogen Jukebox 