Thursday, May 26, 1983

Bob Marley's 40th Memorial concert 5/26/1983 draft


Maui madness across the moon 
dark clouds over Haleakala 

Haleakala‚ a persimmon colored bowl 
to feed the sun.

Dark clouds over Haleakala 
Lahaina, Maui at Bob Marley's 40th Memorial concert

The moon rises over the West Maui Mountains 
in a reggae rhythm 
while Gary and Steve sleep inside Haleakala crater
Inside the vault the crater the striated volcanic ash
Haleakala's ambergris, a gift from the Aina.
Turn on the headlights in the clouds

Cocolulu, Maui while we while we

Haleakala Howley
Deep ecology
Aina
Way, Lanai hola call Ina

The sky weeps the land of now we are cursed
They will return from the crater with empty pockets
And an empty heart gladdened by the sun.

On the whale road curved water, Lahaina

Haleakala Howley 
or Bob Marley's memorial reggae concert
Moo rise over West Maui Mountains
While Gary and Steve sleep 
inside the Haleakala crater,
striated volcanic ash hurt,
ambergris of Haleakala 
turn on the headlights in the cloud

5/26/1983



The rocks of Maui are cursed 
remove no rocks from the island he said 
for bad luck will follow you

Will Staple sleeping, Maui Zendo, 1983 (drawing)



Tuesday, May 24, 1983

2 POEMS: FLYING TO MAUI, DREAM SEQUENCE

FLYING TO MAUI

Scut cloud shadows on the ocean 
like darkened continents
Or sunken coral reefs
Modern mariner plane 
writing the air currents 
a ship of the sky.

5/24/1983?



 
DREAM SEQUENCE

I come from the past 
unerringly into your thorn shadow 
and we drink the deep water
from under the bridge. 

5/24/1983?
added 9/13/2016

Monday, May 23, 1983

2 POEMS: UP THE PALI, GUAVA JAVA

UP THE PALI

Up the Pali, the Chinese called this place 
the land of Sandalwood. 
Ginger and plumeria laden the air.
A solitary gecko chuckles in the night.

Koko head, Koko crater 
last point of volcanic activity in Oahu.
Pele, the fire goddess went looking 
for a last home here. Found none.

On the plains of Oahu, 
pineapples grow green skirts.
Dance in the wind.

8/23? 1983
added 9/15.2016
minor revision



GUAVA JAVA

The sun sculpted rain on the mountains
exoderm of ridges leaving rigid lava teeth exposed
The weight of ironwoods anchored in Pali winds.

8/23? 1983
added 9/15.2016

LOS CAPRICCIOS DEL PARADISO

LOS CAPRICCIOS DEL PARADISO
 —one breakfast delight, $2.45 plus tax

The mangoes aren't ripe,
the papayas aren't perfect
and the last tango was in Paris.
Pineapples ripen ever four years,
bananas take seven,
mangoes come twice a year
and in Waikiki—home to the spenders of paradise,
no grass hut for John Steinbeck
or anyone else for that matter,
pods of bronzed bodies outnumber 
the Hawaiian monk seals before colonization
where every season, the season of the tourist.
There is an open season on paradise every two blocks
But the fish still swim in Hanauma Bay, 
their bodies drift with the current
like leaves in the wind, 
and all is forgiven.

5/23/1983
Oahu, HI
added 9/15/2016

POSTCARD TO MARIANNE AND DAVE WARE

POSTCARD TO MARIANNE AND DAVE WARE


Aloha from Oahu.
The birds of paradise 
seem to get stuck up tourist noses
And the only real cure 
is to spend some puka puka.
The waihinis in bikinis on Waikiki
give rise to mail expectations,
But, the fish don't mind 
and that's the current count in the end. 
We all shaka shaka bro, Da kine,
Okay, okay, we hang loose.
The sign says it's okay, okay
And da water, she fine.
No Pele tears here.
Pele, she quiet for now.
Missionary man, he slapped her down good.
But she be like yeast bread 
in a bowl, rising, rising.
Soon, she make ready for da oven.

Oahu, HI
5/23/1983
added 9/15/2016

THE BIRDS OF PARADISE


The birds of paradise 
seem to get stuck up tourist noses 
and the only real cure 
is to spend some puka-puka.
The wahines in bikinis on Waikiki 
give rise to the mail expectations 
but the fish don't mind 
and that's the current count in the end.
We all shaka-shaka, dakine, okay-okay, hang loose.
The sun says it's okay-okay underwater, she fine.
No Pele tears here
Pele, she quiet for now.
Missionary man, he slapped her down good.
But she, like yeast bread in a bowl, rising. Rising.
Soon she make ready for the oven.
Aloha, Mahalo, mahalo.

5/23/1983

Sunday, May 22, 1983

Obligatory Hug, May 1983, Franklin St. Clubhouse, Santa Rosa (Maureen Hurley, Marianne Ware)





THREE POEMS

CHILDREN OF THE SEA


The children of the sea, 
the children of Mauna Loa
Pele raging against the sky
The fish swim between her toes 
in Hanamua Bay.
Her crying reaches the sea,
her black tears cool in its depths.



PAPAYAS

Papaya trees holding their clutch 
from beneath their leafy crowns.
Papaya trees holding their plantations skirts 
above their clutches of fruit
Waking to the cooling of Japanese doves 
wondering where I am anyway.



BREAKFAST DELIGHT

Papaya, Plumaria, papaya 
papaya papaya papaya.
White doves on the lanais in the tropical rain
Mahalo wahini, aloha welcome to Hawaii 
Hibiscus sunrise. Mahalo, Mahalo.
One breakfast delight, $2.45 plus tax.
$2.45 plus tax.

5/20-22/1983
Oahu, Hawaii
added 9/15/2016

Friday, May 20, 1983

MANINI

MANINI


How does the current level wave
capture that luminescence from the sky?
Tiny transparent fish in the surf 
schools of manini grazing on the coral 
as the wave changes, they suddenly shift 
as if they were fall leaves blowing in the wind.

The shifting wave swings the aspen leaf 
bodies of the fish about, as if a sudden dance 
of fall stirred them to madness.

Pale rainbow fish, zebra-striped eels, blue string worms.
How can one describe the hundreds of fish in the reef?

May 20-22? 1983
Added 9/15/2016



Thursday, May 19, 1983

FRAGMENTS

FRAGMENTS


The tentacles of the Banyan tree strangled, 
seeking wisdom from the earth.
Too much of a good thing is good for nothing.



Watching Hawaii 5-0 in Waikiki'i
is like déjà vu all over again.



The USS Arizona Memorial 
rests atop a thousand soldiers 
entombed beneath its decks.

5/19/1983
added 9/15/2016

RIDING THE NUMBER 20 BUS

RIDING THE NUMBER 20 BUS

Riding the number 20 bus
the driver singsongs the stops in duplicate:
Diamondhead, Diamondhead
Nimitz Highway, Nimitz Highway
Two types of coconuts over dere 
coconut tree, over dere, coconut tree.
Good shave ice. Shave ice. Kailua, Kailua.
Windward side, Windward side
Punchbowl Arena, up dere Yea, up dere.
Condominiums, condominiums.
See da banyan tree, da banyan tree
Ala Moana, Ala Moana. Hang loose, 
hang loose, bro, sistah, we almost dere. 
Almost dere. Aloha, aloha.

5/19/1983
added and slightly revised 9/15/2016

LAHAINA

LAHAINA

The tentacles 
of the Banyan tree 
dangle down 
seeking wisdom 
from the earth.

Too much 
of a good thing 
is good for nothing.

5/19/1983
I added title later.

Tuesday, May 17, 1983

2000 MILES FROM SHORE

2000 MILES FROM SHORE

Flying west along the path of the sun, 
a perpetual noon blazing on the ocean, 
occasional clouds, carpeted white against the blue—
I awaken from sleep with words 
slowly crystallizing in the conscious realm of thought.
Where do thoughts sleep?

Clouds forming vast mountain ranges at sea
Clouds forming milk skins across the volcanoes.
Tiny islands, mid-Pacific, land catching the clouds, 
a shawl draped over paradise.
All cultivated lands look the same from the air.
The vacant gleam of dark eyes:
the twin summits of Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea
watching the sky for signs.

5/17-18/1983
Oahu, HI
added 9/15/2016
slightly revised


Hawaii Journal 5/17/83 Mimi & Livena drawing


Saturday, May 14, 1983

FIRST TIME

FIRST TIME
— for Jim Byrd

Our canoe rounded a sheltered river bend
collecting calm emerald water
until it glistened in a slow curved smile.
The towering trees punctuated its mirrored speech.

From our raised paddles, words escaped
unannounced as water droplets
spawning concentric ripples
in an undulating desire toward shore.

Who is naming these silent tremblings,
sneaking up, canoe-like along the river
where, like deer coming down for an evening drink,
our hearts stopped, afraid to slake their thirst?

Who will stand guard while they ask the river
where the trees stop and the reflections begin?
Through the trees the wind is trickling.
Only the shore answers in a slow curved smile.

Years later, while drinking from separate rivers
we keep asking each other the same questions,
and our hearts, no less thirsty or afraid,
find nothing in the backwaters, except ourselves.

1983
rev./88
Forestville

1984 Deepest Valley Review

Monday, May 2, 1983

Obligatory Hug, May 1983, Franklin St. Clubhouse, Santa Rosa (poem)

I was scheduled to read with Marianne Ware at the Franklin St. Clubhouse in Santa Rosa on May 22, but according to my journals. it looks like I stayed in Hawaii instead. However, I had a poem in the Obligatory Hug. So I'm posting it as a publishing credit. Rites of Extreme Unction





Sunday, May 1, 1983

AMBER


AMBER

From the listlessness of fog,
and the dark regeneration of cherozim soil
to the pungent breath of hot summer’s evening,
comes my whispering shadows
trading secrets with the wind.
After a long winter, animals bend
me toward their mouths and learn
the tender filaments of spring.
Worn around the neck of a woman,
I am the pine forests weeping before the fire,
and the artists’ solvent, I am the amber tears
pressed to the deep bosom of the earth,
liquid sun, frozen sun, the eyes of tigers,
the eyes of snakes, bees hidden inside me.

The fog rises until I no longer see
the grey whales drifting on the Baltic.

5/83?  84? with Susan Kennedy’s class CPITS

I was in Hawaii May 17