Category Archives: Hawaii

Vertical Interrogations (and my graduating capstone) part I

Watercolor, salt, glue

Watercolor, salt, glue

These questions. Questions in line with Bhanu Kapil’s method of asking people about their lives which really, really crossed borders. Please click on the link to answer the vertical interrogations. You will be amazed by your creativity, humor, and tenderness. [click on the reply number in the gray circle to add your response]. Have fun. Write something today.


Sharing a Diggity Poetry Reading Site

A quiet, potential writing spot.

A quiet, potential writing spot.

Grey Fantasy: I felt ill–at ease in a suit, really?



A woman poses in front of a mirror in Hugo Boss
wool-blended, sharply tailored with trousers (not pants)
A ten-year-old girl stands on the other side of the mirror
She prefers riding swings at Booth Park
and catching crayfish in Nu’uanu Stream
Afterwards she’s polka-dotted a Mercurochrome red
Her legs can’t scoop blue skies and pump them behind her
while wearing these pants (trousers)
And she’s really really sorry for all the crayfish she tried to keep alive
in the Folgers’ coffee can
Even when everyone said, They not going make it
They (grown ups) lost their reds when their backs became fuzzy
and brownish and then a somewhat white
Dabbing them with tonic only made the water red and angry
Maybe if she could go back to Nu’uanu Stream
incant and release all the crayfish’s tiny souls:
before leptospirosis washed away her dreams
of taking her children’s children there
before dog kennel washings
before invading black fish
before it became never again
All thoughts evaporated as the woman slipped her arm in a red Armani
virgin wool, notched collar, with (flap) pockets

Writing Assignment: Describe What Indian Summer Means to You

I don’t know what it is or
what do you do with it
Maybe your stomach pitches
like hearing the intro to Otomi-san song
When you say hot is it
like a melanin platter of Duk Lee’s look fun rolls

We eat yamaimo (shaved) over nato beans on hot nights

I cover my inhibitions with nasal gurgling
and a plunking shaminsen
I dance
It’s winter and 85 degrees
It’s summer and 85
My mother re-plays Lionel Richie’s CD
one of her better days this week
I cry
Obon kimonos sway and pitch
sherbet foam skimmed from a punchbowl
It never quenches
the green flash at 6:35 PM tonight

What the hell is Indian Summer?

Writing Contest for September

The Bamboo Ridge Press is home to many local writers (and I use that term loosely). Transplants, tourists, and residents have much to share about their stories in paradise.
Here’s the link to September’s writing contest Year of the Horse September Contest

I just received noticed that my dark lady photo poem won for August’s contest! (Small yay for me).

Good luck! Keep writing!

Honolulu’s Last Civilian Hanging

NOVEMBER 19, 1929

Three Kings’ ransom $10,000
Already strangled, skull chiseled in
Gill Jamieson, 10

Son of a Hawaiian Trustee;
Son of a Japanese plantation worker
Both strut, fret, and heard no more

Picked up after school at Punahou
Driven away in a cab
Only one kidnapper

Kidnapper’s jagged red stone
A nameless marker in Mo’ili’ili Cemetery
Ingachou: heap of misfortune

Survived Hurricane


One of the memes going around, but better to be safe. We’re all fine here.