Happy Halloween

Punch in

punch out the freak

that glares from a dark niche

crimson canines bared tongue trickling  

verbose.

Verbose

morose fat toad

bluster soaked dripping cad

is quite mad drops now from rafter 

crawls on

Crawls on

past old paint flakes

reflecting on  dinner

in the old clapboard haunted house

spider.

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Frenzy

I stuffed them all down

like a good little girl

urged to swallow her medicine.

Raw red meat

in a

black and white

world.

Tender tongues 

twisted and ripped-out

like an old rubber band.

As their groans

splashed crimson

across my

reckoning

distracted by my next meal

as a  mad ghoul

lunges past me,  down this dark corridor.

Rain

Parkia Timoriana- Fabaceae-Pea Family

Movement

I’m moving on

past

the old boundaries of

I do not do that

I don’t think I can

I’m too old and

I’m afraid.

I’m plotting a new course

steering clear of old distractions

three steps forward

two back

taking the time

to listen and learn.

Pressing on because I MUST

and sidetracked

because

I hunger for what is comfortable

choosing safety

quelling my passion.

AND yet, I thirst

to make a difference

to leave my mark

to plant a seed, my seed

in the wild weed-ridden

misconstrued fields.

Hoping to turn wildflowers

into diamond pink petals and

lavender lined gardens

into a redolent harvest

of hybrid teas.

My arms open

willing to absorb the risk

stir in a bit of pain, discomfort.

I step up

into judgment

reaching out past the wise ones

the kupuna who have led me up to this place

the highest, most precious peaks

in the shadow of the Koolau

spreading their velvet-green robes

beyond

my self-imposed

self-absorbed limits

crowning present possibilities

seated upon this

pivotal throne.

Titanic Artifact Exhibition

Permission granted

come aboard the Titanic

cruise unsinkable. 

Dreaming

Dreaming
about the day
when I am a superstar
can only take me so far
and then what?

Will I magically transform
into a superhuman being
save lives
inspire
rewire the cosmic hard drive?
How will it change our universe
reflect
refract
belch
suck up
expand in a meaningful way?
and to whom
and for what purpose?

Does anyone REALLY know
and see the BIG picture?

There are literally thousands of theories
bombarding us everyday
electrons
protons
atoms
smashing
splitting
all around us
it’s amazing
that we
can HEAR
decipher
anything
at all.
Anything viable that is
over the concussion
percussion
discussion
Maalox
Taxes
Medical bills
Unemployment
Drug addict superstars
ENABLING doctors
Food borne illnesses
Egos of giant corporations
selling us one last pull
on the MEGA BUCK machine.

Now concentrate
stay with me
This is it!
Don’t waste it
you can almost taste it
on the tip of your tongue
and then…
it’ll be gone.

In the meantime you'll pick yourself up
dust yourself off
and continue to play this amazing game of pretend.
And wait for it...there’s a Barker
with a GIANT MEGAPHONE...directing you to step this way!

Okay--class
let’s pretend
EVERYTHING will all work out
that all of this chaos
is insignificant
and our distant relatives
or GODS if you prefer
from heaven
are just a little late
to pick us up
for our continuing trip
on the way
to our NEW HOME
where everything is
waiting for us
pristine
a paradise of epic proportions
and everybody you ever knew
is waiting there for you
to fill you in 

on what you’ve been missing
and they are so glad you came and
the only thing you are sorry about
is that it took you so long to die.

Then they take you
to feed the machine
you know the human eater
that shiny metal object over there
with the teeth.
Yeah—the one with your name on it.
But don’t WORRY
because you won’t feel a thing
because you are already DEAD
NOPE—won’t hurt a bit
AND THEN…
Then… you can eat all that ice-cream
and all the artery clogging shit
you’ve ever wanted
but couldn’t have
because of stupid things like high cholesterol
and heart disease.
You know…
because --like
you won’t have a heart anymore.
NOPE…you won’t have a heart
a body
limbs
Or a BRAIN.

You’ll just be a transparent
ground-up form
floating around in the ether
and shucks
I really hate to burst your bubble
but you know that safe ice-cream
that I was telling you about?
Well that shit ain’t real either
But it… Bitch--SLAP
sure was one
hell of RIDE
wasn’t it?

Sunrise 10-13-11

Silly--Savvy

Copy this

down but only

take credit for

what is yours

something I heard

repeatedly in school.

 Stick it

don’t pick it

on the wall

from the ground

where the moon don’t shine.

Paste your words

and your turds

on a visible sheet

separate the wheat

from the chaff

and laugh

don’t frown

lift your chins

stretch your neck

because heck

it just ain’t

pretty anymore.

Inspire

don’t tire

or get stuck

in the quagmire

of   forlorn

torn

and unglued.

Paint

don’t faint

from that beer

or good cheer

staring at the belly

of jelly

in the bottom

of your glass

fat bass.

The Difference is ME

The difference is ME

not some world

that you hang on a chain

around

your neck

that

stiffly smiles

indifferent.

Don't Suck-- Spit

You know the spiel.
Get inspired
Write about something that moves you
Paint using vivid images
And if you can’t
at least have the good sense
to make it short.
Sell it
Show some cleavage
Leave them wanting more
And If you are lucky enough and talented enough to get noticed
go to the awards ceremony, celebrate
But don’t let it get to your head
Stay humble
afterwards go home and
write something else.
Stick with what you know
stick with what works.

Scratch that,
It really doesn’t matter
what subject you choose
it isn’t even the style you use
all that really matters is if
anyone else cares
or can relate to your
drivel, I mean
take spit for instance.
Yeah—you heard me….SALIVA.

Now let’s show what would happen
 if I spit on the sidewalk…
Or—if you’d rather go first
I’ll wait.

it wouldn’t be as interesting though
as if I spit in your face
now would it?

I mean
think about it
what  could you create with spit
maybe take a stick
a little paint
some canvas
an old T-shirt
It might translate into something unique
It might even parade around as ART
SURE…
and pretty soon EVERYBODY
would have to have it
and it might even come in different textures
and tongues—LONG WINDED ONES
AND before you know it
there would be a MOVEMENT
And people could follow your BRAND

and you could get a Twitter button

It would be so COOL and like
maybe the Kardashian’s would
design some spit fashions
for Sears
and well
the rest...
The REST
is still unwritten.

Just This

Love means

I’ll help you pack

then prepare your dinner

but stress me out and I will eat

your young.

Red Dawn

The sun winks red-faced

on its upward climb

chased by sultry hounds

slobbering wet kisses

drenching the cracked brown earth

snaking a path to the sea.

Two dendrobiums snatched

by teething pair

chomped

discarded

alone.

The culprits

soon jailed

by a critical gust

curling hot on their

red heels.

Practical

Perky banks minutes

pens animated haiku

time for pedicure.

Pregnant with Possibility

Mother Earth 
orbits the Sun
pregnant with the seed of life.
Papa Moon glows
rocking the vast oceans 
flexing his muscles
at the growing
galaxy 
he has considered 
since the ancient of days
in this vast playpen growing, multi-hued and
littered with the debris of self absorbed toddlers.

Time passes filling the void
pressing against the outer limits
stretching, kicking, gurgling and cooing
Until...Uncle-- Papa cries, finally
shaking his head
fixed on  a yellow star
as it transforms into a red dwarf and explodes 
ripping a black hole
into the silk wall 
silhouetting space time 
inhaling all, including Mama and her afterbirth 
extruding still, new dimensions
on an infinite cycle 
alive with possibility.

Love in the Time of Compost

Love allows that even a clothes horse 

can have an off day
and knows when to put the blinders on.

Love bows at the sacrificial altar
of burnt beyond recognition
with a branded tongue.


Love relaxes with the Kama Sutra
inhaling a strawberry soufflé
sensually whipped.


Love lets you have first dibs
on the massage chair
kneading and pummeling your
way to RELIEF---
then hands you a post hole digger
to plant a 3' tree.

Koolau Vew

Coconut Palm

Sunrise-10-1-11

My Memoir

Memoir

I feel something impossibly small

that might be pain

as I slide a piece of paper

under everything

my mother said.

*from Curses and Wishes by Carl Adamschick—Winner of the 2010 Walt Whitman Award

My Memoir

offers no salve

only a shrug

and logic.

Everything hangs

on

perception

even

the dawn.

Banana Tail

Amazon Cloud

Just think
a cloud in cyberspace
intuitive
pink and fluffy
no storms
no lightning
no rain
just white wispy platforms
floating in a blue field.

And you are tiny—and SKINNY
safely spinning round
smiling and laughing
and dancing to
the syncopated
do wop day glow
of a Bali autumn night.

Diddly bop
Scooby dooby doo
scaz fraz, raz ma taz and you are caught-up
in a time warp
where everyone is young
and a half dozen orthopedic shoes
swing on a clothesline along with
black and white oxfords
and toe shoes
AND they are ALL YOUR SIZE.

Daddle waddle ding dong
shoo-do-doo- woosh wow whee,
bam-bub-bee, zoosk zoos-zingin
And now you are in Macchu Picchu
twisting with Chubby Checker
and you get it—you’re connected to the source.

Blaze a blingin
tootin and scootin
without a care
tripping lightly
down the stair
with long flaxen hair
flawless skin
and your butt, hips and thighs
make grown men drool
cause your flying without a license
fresh out of school
you are so cool
and SOOO flexible.

Then you sneeze
and break the spell
OH-HELL
and you are back
but for a few syncopated moments
you were at the center of the cosmos.

A universe unto yourself and
it was HEAVEN
and Life is Like That
when your head is in a cloud
and you’re wearing rose colored reading glasses
and earphones with a mic.

Can you hear me now?
Shimmy shimmy
bing bang bong.
Crank it up, Babe
I can still hear myself
breathing.

Letters Member--NLAPW

It's official-- I am a Letters Member of  the N.L.A.P.W.-Honolulu, as of September 7, 2011
http://www.nlapwhonolulu.org/members.htm

High Jumper

Muse jettisoned from

inter-cranial cockpit

absent without leave.

Fear

Fear 
demands
that you toss 
the could have had
avoid all the should have’s
not matter what the price don’t make 
a fuss.

It glares through your eyes
and into your brain
cheering you on
discouraging you from 
drawing undue attention to it 
or making waves.
It is a coward
droning its mantra
into your ear 
until you believe 
uniting with others who feel as you do
accepting it as fact
distrusting your basic instincts
no longer seeking help
or listening to reason.

Hypnotizing 
you into acceptance and apathy
It will have you 
acknowledging that it is selfless
seducing you for your own good
insisting that you follow its lead
persuading finally 
that you come quietly
and not argue.
Altering forever
what would have been
into what must be.

**Inspired by Happy Family—a film at the Italian Film Festival in Honolulu.


http://www.cinemaitalianoinhawaii.org/

A Quiet Life—Una Vita Tranquilla

A Quiet Life

tortures  you

in unexpected ways

It leads you on

like a hot babe

with her long legs

wrapped

around your mid-section

pulling you into her

and just when you think

you can’t take any more

she slices your thumb off

and lets you run around in circles

howling WHY did you do that

WHY couldn’t you just LEAVE ME ALONE?

I’ve been good!

I’ve been good for fifteen years

I’ve started a new life

a new family

why couldn’t you

just leave me alone?

And she replies…

because

YOU BELONG TO ME.

** This movie is at the Italian Film Festival.

The story of a good family gone wrong. A man escapes to Germany and starts a new family thinking he will finally enjoy a quiet life. He is wrong.

18 Years Later

Two

brothers

not speaking

for 18 years,

a lifetime wasted

on misunderstanding

missed opportunity and

fate.  Reunited finally

by driving their father’s Morgan car

to Calabria to spread his remains.  

*etheree

**  I went to the Italian Film Festival yesterday and saw this comedy—18 Years Later was very good and extremely funny.

Dryer Woes

My dryer's vent
came through 
the colonoscopy okay
she was wide awake and talking
for the whole operation.
No drugs were used 
or animals
harmed 
during this procedure.

We had to go in and
surgically remove
several large polyps
with a rather long, hooded
flex-pole
sans camera. 

Dr. D. is a genius.

She had been feeling
sluggish of late
complaining of
constipation
and irritable bowel syndrome
couldn’t dry any
jeans past the damp stage.

After the operation
she was able to sit up 
and we are happy to report
although she did experience 
some lint laden hiccups
she did finally facilitate a 
successful
dryer event.

Poor dear
she’s relaxing comfortably
for the moment,
she doesn’t know yet
about the follow-up surgery
scheduled for next year. 
She’s been spewing non-stop 
hot about 
hooking up
with a young energy saver
with tight abs.

Flamboyant

Speak,

Act,

Write,

like it was your last

pithy

driven

edgy poem.

Have them hanging

there…mid-sentence

spell-bound

salivating

for that morsel

that one

thought

that single

tiny nugget

that is pure gold.

And command

their silence.

Make them stand at attention

click their heels

salute

proving yet again

that you are much more

than sexy sizzling hot

much more

than a High School diploma

and a middle aged grandmother. Much more than a

bank of knowledge

to borrow or

withdraw from.

DAZZLE them

and then…

WALK AWAY

disappear

into the horizon

make them think it was a dream

like a brilliant autumn leaf carried away

by the breeze

colorful and rustling

sprawling splendidly

in the gifted forest

later

crunched

by a doe

in the dark.

Golf Rant

Golf makes me ponder
life’s eternal mysteries
and scratch my head
thinking
how hard can it be
to hit a stationary object
from a stationary position
with the sun shining in your eyes
three hundred and fifty yards from a four-inch hole?

Did I mention
that you have to swing with
your inferior hand and arm
not the one you are used to using 
NOPE--the OTHER ONE
the arm and hand that has a mind of its own
that would bitch slap you if it could
and who is the jackass who invented this game anyway?

I mean, whose idea it was
to sink a white-dimpled ball into a four-inch hole
in FOUR strokes or less
two of those strokes being putts?

Putting is a key component of mastering the game
because that hole
is getting smaller as we speak
and don’t tell anyone this
but I saw the hole move
to the right 
on more than one occasion
and it’s always after I make my putt
And No, I wasn’t drinking!

This makes me think
that you have to be either manic 
or a serious alcoholic
to keep up 
with moving holes, undulating greens, and passing cloud bursts
because on the off chance 
that you aren’t either of those
you would have to 
spend every spare moment
PRACTICING
or LIVE ON the Golf Course
and we all know that people who live on golf courses
don’t play golf
because those little white balls
crash through their windows
from time to time 
annoying the family pet
who has more pressing things on his mind
like how to get out of the weekly
grooming appointment
because darling Mr. Pepper
doesn’t do Frufuu
and he ain’t wearing
No Stinkin Pink Bows!

So that wayward golf ball 
crashing through the window
could set this stressed-out canine off
resulting in some pretty nasty repercussions
like rapid-fire barking and
confiscating said golf ball 
producing a domino effect
witnessed by other stressed out golfers 
intent on hitting
their stationary ball
now distracted
and missing their shot
aiming instead at 
the aforementioned poodle
with the pink bow
who has a white golf ball
with YOUR NAME ON IT
in his mouth
and won’t let the said player
have it back 
who in turn
won’t let anyone else play through.

Now have I mentioned 
that the rules state 
to play the ball as it lies
or take a two-stroke penalty?

I mean, have you heard of anything dumber
then playing a game where
you are expected to penalize yourself
AND be honest about it?

I’ll give you a minute to think about it.

Beavers Spotted on the I-70

C-B

Trucker lingo

confirms a Big 10-4

eyeballs a carload of beavers

hot—dam!

CB Radio--Truckers way of communicating--popular in 70-80's
Beavers-women
Big 10-4- totally agree