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Showing posts from July, 2009

Dim Sum in Chinatown

We met at ten thirty
on a Sunday morning
for Dim Sum--a bit of heart,
in a busy
Chinatown restaurant.
The Yum Cha
(drinking tea)
experience
takes me back to China.
A trip of a lifetime.
To an industrious
hard working people with
backs bent in two.
Using simple tools
to rebuild modern cities
reeking of
inadequate plumbing
and garbage strewn
harbors.
To observe
these proud inhabitants
of decay
from five star hotels
with a hazy blackened view.
Where east meets west
rich confronts poor
without
birds or trees
to block out the sun
face to face.

Somewhere
inside the debris
lies the heart
of these proud
people as
inside
a wrapper
of
translucent
rice flour
stuffed
with pork
shrimp
and
cabbage.

I Salute You

Her drive flew the distance
all the way onto the green.
Rolled within inches
of my feet
as I was preparing
to sink
my one putt.
The sky was blue.
Lenny
silently waiting
for us to finish
before he continued
to cut the grass.

In proud recognition,
I presented
her with a solitary bird--
one full minute of honor.
A pink gloved
middle finger salute.
My threesome
dumbstruck.
Winking at each other,
pissed off
yet proud
she had arrived.
Now-- don’t hit into us
Ms. Sunshine,
with your
dark tan lines.
Lobbed later
over nachos and a beer.
There would be
no stopping her
now.

Feeding The Neighbor's Cats

I look forward
to when my next door neighbors
leave on a trip.
Although, I have to sneak
over to see them.
My Great Danes would go crazy
if they knew what I was up to.
Imagine--leaving them
to feed not one but two kittens.
Bruno and Zeus are listening
to the Oldies station
as I tiptoe
to the gate and quietly cross
into the neighbor’s yard.
As I insert my key into the lock
I hear Meow—and a thump
Cello, the gray and white one
greets me.
He knows what time it is.
Cyd-- the orange Calico purrs from a distance.

Savoring each moment, I feed them, clean their litter box
and watch them pounce
from desktop to computer
to the chair, and then back to where I am,
one on my lap, the other on the arm of the chair.
At first they welcome my touch
to stroke their fur, and scratch behind their ears.
Then Cyd playfully bites at my fingers
saying-- that’s enough we’re done here.

I am reminded briefly, of a cat that long ago adopted me, named Midnight.
Black as the darkest night, equally fierce and independent.
A Tom…

Feral Chickens

We get plenty chickens over here.
They like play “chicken”
with my car.
Sometimes they take off
wings flapping,
like one jet.
They like race
with my Hyundai.
They not so smart.
Bumbai
they going lose
their tail feathers
to one pupuele wahine
stay Kahaluu.

Pidgin English is spoken by the locals here in Hawaii.
Below are some translation notes:
Get plenty: have lots of
Bumbai: sooner or later, by and by
Pupule: crazy
Wahine: female, woman
Stay: currently is or lives at
Kahaluu: country town on Windward Oahu

Submarine Watch

In the corner of my eye
is a thick hedge of yellow hibiscus and
three papaya trees
plump
with golden ripe fruit.
Four graceful palm climb
along the shoreline
watchful,
their fanlike fronds
bowing in the wind.
Where are they?
Perhaps they are lurking
beyond the horizon.
The common myna would know.
Suddenly it looms
at the mouth of Pearl Harbor
flanked
by a military police escort.
Gun metal gray, tall
and sleek,
resembling a jaguar.
A dozen men stroking it's fur
lapping it up
purring and content.

Rowing

*** Also published Thursday July 23 2009 on http:// www.7beats.com/herenow.html

Get into
my canoe.
Let’s paddle out into Kaneohe bay
to the Sandbar.
Let us make a plan
to stick together
through
rough
winds
pelting
rain and
strong
currents.
Our oars
marking time in sequence.
Focused and
fixed
on our goal
as one
and get there.

Intimate Moments

I can feel your saliva
dripping
onto my big toe.
Belching as you lean
against me.
Satisfied
as I rub your neck
massaging behind your ears.
Staring into the distance
breathing in the neighborhood
listening to the sounds of the valley.
Wednesdays Thursdays and
Saturdays are big days
in our datebook.
Me--stuffing
gray and blue bins with
green waste and rubbish
You--eager
as the giant
yellow refuse truck
comes to swallow
them,
leaving behind
strange scents.
Me--
climbing ladders
shaving
Coconut Palms
with my chainsaw
trimming
Be-Still trees,
training them
into a hedge.
You--
Guarding our home
chasing away
the doves
as they greedily
finish your dinner.
We fit-- you and me.
Loafing in the back yard
inhaling the scent of three
large citronella plants
shielding us
from the mosquito’s.
Listening to KCCN--
Hawaiian 105.9
on the radio
Both of us,
unleashed
in paradise.

Golden Tilapia

Your muscles are
tanned
and lean
Your piercing blue eyes are
patient
and see
everything.
It is morning.
The throw net
is draped
over
your left shoulder.
As you
wait for the
precise moment
to hurl the net.
The first throw
directs the next
and with each pass
more and more
are harvested
and released
onto the dew soaked grass.
In their final struggle
to stay alive
they arch
and flip back and forth
across the void
to escape back
into the cool dark water
beneath the lily pads.

But-- their fates are set.
Filleted without delay,
resulting in
one last swim
breaded
in hot oil.