Saturday, February 21, 2009


On the dry, desolate far west shore of Kauai,
under the black fluted palisades of Polihale,
golden dunes vanish beneath the sea. The
earth spins, drawing me back into the eastern
dusk. Out west, beyond the horizon, a
violent sky slowly mellows, succumbing to
the stars. There are no people here. The warm
wind is both comforting and hauntingly lonely,
like an indifferent companion on a long journey.
The thorn scrub creaks and rustles. A presence
is here, primeval and ancient, conjuring a
vague, instinctual longing in my gut. People
lived here long ago, the first people to arrive
here, but no more.

On the south shore of Oahu, in the shot-out
meth dusted neighborhoods west of Chinatown
i startle a young Hawaiian woman smoking ice
as I drive down an alley. Our eyes lock, her
gaze burns, like the pain of grieving ancestors.
She just puts the flame closer to the glass and
pulls harder on the pipe, and I look away and
drive on.

Journal entry, Hawaii, 2006


Jimmy said...

I read this and it touches me Ive lived and seen this as you. Aloha Jimmy --- Anahola ,Kauai

Run.Haole.Run said...

Very well-put, hydrodynamica. You make a profound point without pounding it into the reader. Unfortunately I am on the dysfunctional side of this relationship, living on Oahu. I think it is ok tho. Let Oahu take the hit. We're gone already. If we can preserve the rest of the state, then I guess the sacrifice of our island is worth it.

blackwatersurfer said...

heavy and very well put. you transcended alot of things in those few paragraphs.

Anonymous said...

rk was much much better on modern, progressive equipment