Tropical Photo Poetry

All Boats

...stare not as time toils
for a watched pot never boils
care not as age gloats
for your rising tide lifts all boats...

Over the Falls

This smokey "Over the Falls Burger" happens quick and
fills you with lots of vitamin Sea...

1 lb. hamburger
1/2 fresh or sun dried tomato, carved
2 heaping T. ketchup (catsup)
1/8 c French onion soup mix
2 cloves garlic, mashed
1 large raw whole egg, dropped in
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 bread slices, ripped
1/8 c garlic roasted macadamia nuts, crushed

1. In a large bowl, use your (washed) hands to mix all
ingredients together and form into patties.
2. Add patties to a heated grill pan over medium heat
3. Cover and cook, turning once or twice 8 to 10 minutes
4. When firm to touch, serve hot on a sweet roll.

Surfer Burger

check out the Jamie Oliver food revolution

Surfer Burger

parsnip turnip parsley
bread crumb tomato sauce eggs
black pepper
bell pepper celery ketchup
onion soup mix beef broth and caramelized onion
carrot
dijon mustard
freshly ground black pepper
think quick surfer burger
red pepper flakes
Greek oregano mint family
basil pizza thyme parsnips Thanks giving
tomato
roasted sesame seeds
parsley
green or red bell peppers
both sides broth
garlic macadamias crushed



This smokey "Over the Falls Burger" happens quick and
fills you with lots of vitamin Sea...

1 lb. hamburger
1/2 fresh or sun dried tomato diced
2 heaping T. ketchup (catsup)
1/8 c French onion soup mix
2 cloves garlic, mashed
1 large raw whole egg
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 hand torn slices of bread
1/8 c garlic roasted macadamia nuts, crushed

1. In a large bowl, use your (washed) hands to mix all
ingredients together and form into patties.
2. Add patties to a heated grill pan over medium heat
3. Cover and cook turning once or twice 8 to 10 minutes
4. When firm to touch, serve hot on a sweet roll.

Outpost#3

A rustle in the tall Banyan quickens the heart amidst the distant echo of giant trees. Haunched in the shadows, new perceptions open to faint percussive sounds along the jungle floor.

In an instant she is there. She is a young creature less than a year old, her scent exotic pheromones, a prelude to heated battle, beyond sensual. Her nakedness didn't matter to the jungle. Blood in the shadows were primal to her survival against any intruder of territory. Claws razor sharp, and white teeth the only discernible signals, if a signal at all. Her athletic musculature contorts, eyes embroiling for attack. A noble beast imbedded with nature's most direct order. Tonight she carries the sound of the hunter-silence.

Deliberate in keeping her teeth shown and her claws erect, the final solution of survival,directed by gene expression, arrives.

No time exists now. Instinctive hormonal rage, this meeting at an inevitable crossroad of the evolutionary trail. She is art in motion. Fine tuned by eons of genetic connections, and intrinsic balance between available oxygen and gravitational detriment. She had nothing to learn. Her skills were all there. The same genes offered by the very trees that hid her and--the ones given her by someone, or something else.

Her eyes shift now, looking for a passionate kill. There would be no division of urge by this ancient directive in pure focus. Tonight it would be kill or be killed.

Tropical Photo Poetry

Hawaii Photo Poems

Reality TV

Remember " The Blair Witch Project," a little 1999 horror film of amateur footage shot in real time? It had no studio actors, no studio script, so studio cameras, and (you guessed it) no studio money.

The initial outlay was around $25,000 with about another $450,000 needed for mainstream release; the gross was well over $300,000,000.

Who did "The Blair Witch Project" frighten the most? The motion picture industry. It taught what even they didn't know at the time: the scariest thing about a horror movie is the audience. Enter reality TV...

Hawaii Photo Poetry

Tropical Photo Poems

Hawaii Photo Poems

Outpost #2

Inside the lab station, Dr. Cooper feels the pressures of the day mount. “Just an urge,” he thinks. The directive of ancient genes skillfully crafted by unknown forces.
Training had prepared him for gene mechanics, but something was different here. Genetic codes, DNA, gene expression, and proteins of primal genes usually follow predictable patterns in gel boxes. He looks again.
“Tamperings." This would be the last word to emerge from his consciousness for awhile.

Cooper looks over at Suzi, in sleep mode for the night. Why is she so remote, so distant, so inner directed as if preoccupied with her own Abysma program? For the past week--and mostly today--Suzi's photovoltaic tints are a sharper blue. Her scanners focused a little more. Auras drift, sporadically, from her lab bench. For a second he wants to check her monitors--not to doubt her day's activity, he could never do that--but to free himself from the laboratory, to be free to go outside again, into the jungle, even for a moment.

The back door of the research station opens into the night. Cooper steps out, feels the cool chill and follows an ancient trail through the glade of Banyans leading beyond to the mountain. There are no tracks this low in the jungle. He wouldn't find them until he was further up the mountain.

Smooth mists lift off the tops of the jungle canopy into a clear moonlit night. The shadow of the lab building fades as Cooper makes his way further into the the darkness. He hears no life in the trees. Only the song of distant waterfalls and the wispy sound of the wind. As a coolness settles onto the shadows, the jungle floor darkens again.

Tropical Photo Poems

Hawaii Photo Poems

Hawaii Photo Poems

Hawaii Photo Poetry

Tropical Photo Poems

Sam Adams Patriot

Hawaii Photo Poetry

Outpost #4

For centuries this tropical canopy stared down at her perfect hiding place as if to bow in approval at her own handy work.
Eyes may watch but life never waits.
Giant Banyan vines hang as live wire, now dead, drag in the dirt stillness of jungle floor.

Her ancient hanging gardens, escape hatches for creatures with an opposable thumb who knew what to do when danger approaches.

The prefrontal lobe, Nature's precursor to intelligence, a worthy weapon. reliable in an ancient age when danger was still perceivable.
Genes answered questions and gave solutions. Uncountable ravelings and unravelings of the Double Helix, billion years in the making.
Time honored offerings by unseen forces, hidden gatekeepers. Passage into the future the reward. This jungle leaves no residue of death. At first light evidence is gone. As if death never happened. The perfect crime.



Outpost#2done


Inside the lab station, Dr. Cooper feels the pressures of the day mount. “Just an urge,” he thinks. The directive of ancient genes skillfully crafted by unknown forces.
Training had prepared him for gene mechanics, but something was different here. Genetic codes, DNA, gene expression, and proteins of primal genes usually follow predictable patterns in gel boxes. He looks again.
“Tamperings." This would be the last word to emerge from his consciousness for awhile.

Cooper looks over at Suzi, in sleep mode for the night. Why is she so remote, so distant, so inner directed as if preoccupied with her own Abysma program? For the past week--and mostly today--Suzi's photovoltaic tints are a sharper blue. Her scanners focused a little more. Auras drift, sporadically, from her lab bench. For a second he wants to check her monitors--not to doubt her day's activity, he could never do that--but to free himself from the laboratory, to be free to go outside again, into the jungle, even for a moment.

The back door of the research station opens into the night. Cooper steps out, feels the cool chill and follows an ancient trail through the glade of Banyans that lead beyond to the mountain. There are no tracks this low in the jungle. He wouldn't find them until he was further up the mountain.

Smooth mists lift off the tops of the jungle canopy into a clear moonlit night. The shadow of the lab building fades as Cooper makes his way into the the darkness. He hears no life in the trees. Only the song of distant waterfalls and the wispy sound of the wind. As a coolness settles onto the shadows, the jungle floor darkens again.





Outpost#3done

A push of simplicity

Desire is prelude to heated battle. She is a young creature. Less than a year old,

A rustle in the tall Banyan just ahead quickens the heart amidst this echo the giant trees.
Haunched in the shadows perceptions open percussive sounds on the jungle floor as if expecting an approach.
In an instant she was there, her scent exotic. pheromones prelude a heated battle.
She was a young creature less than a year old,
, the sound of the hunter is silence. For centuries, the tropical canopy remains the perfect hiding placee for eyes to watch and wait.


Remnants of Earth's Forests and her ancient hanging gardens, escape hatches . The prefrontal lobe, Nature's invention, the precursor to intelligence itself, a worthy weapon. Reliable in an age when danger was still perceivable. Genes answered questions and gave solutions. Uncountable ravelings and unravelings of the Double Helix, at least for billion years in the making. Time honored offerings by unseen forces, hidden gatekeepers. Passage into the future the reward. This jungle leaves no residue of death. At first light evidence is gone. As if death never happened. The perfect crime.


Dr. Cooper trusted science in his own hands, pre-engineered gene expression. A worthy opponent on a primeval battleground, he sensed everything. Anything she offered, he could answer.

Outpost#3 done

A rustle in the tall Banyan quickens the heart amidst the distant echo of giant trees. Haunched in the shadows, new perceptions open to faint percussive sounds along the jungle floor. Expect an approach.

In an instant she is there. She is a young creature less than a year old, her scent exotic pheromones, a prelude to heated battle, beyond sensual. Her nakedness didn't matter to the jungle. Blood in the shadows were primal to her survival against any intruder of territory. Claws razor sharp, and white teeth the only discernible signals, if a signal at all. Her athletic musculature contorts, eyes embroiling for attack. A noble beast imbedded with nature's most direct order. Tonight she carries the sound of the hunter-silence.

Deliberate in keeping her teeth shown and her claws erect, the final solution of survival, directed by gene expression, arrives.

No time exists now. Instinctive hormonal rage, this meeting at an inevitable crossroad of the evolutionary trail. She is art in motion. Fine tuned by eons of genetic connections, and intrinsic balance between available oxygen and gravitational detriment. She had nothing to learn. Her skills were all there. The same genes offered by the very trees that hid her and--the ones given her by someone, or something else.

Her eyes shift now, looking for a passionate kill. There would be no division of urge by this ancient directive in pure focus. Tonight it would be kill or be killed.





Outpost#4done


Nature at night smells different. It's a helpless thrill, deep down, nobody can help you. There are no awards when this battle is over--just the right to continue

Tigress appears from the shadows now. A renewed encounter, the worthy huntress. Forgotten magic responding as if to evoke religion. Beauty in pure natural motion, a ritual dance of sweet hate-- a reassuring killer instinct.

Cooper checks his weapon and thinks,"Crosshairs optical instruments used for astronomy and surveying." He locks on the tigress, intersecting lines in the shape of a cross.
"... who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge..."
He pulls the trigger.

Her ferocity was a deep contrast to the darkness of the jungle. She wouldn't have been complete without this. Her eyes held his. So young, yet ancient in her moves, holding her youth as a clever disguise.
Cooper pulls the weapon up again to aim. The inscriptions faint and subtle in raised lettering near the end of the stock number. He feels the glow of tritium, that radioactive form of hydrogen creating a light that helps.
...let light shine out of darkness,' ... give us the light of the knowledge of the glory...
He shoots again.

Cooper's mind wanders momentarily. Telescopic sights in the shape of a cross, a device associated with crosshairs. Cooper thinks of motion pictures and the media, crosshairs as a dramatic device. His memory floods back now--telescopes for polar alignment with a reticle that indicates the position of Polaris relative to the north celestial pole. Telescopes for precise measurements with filar micrometer as reticle; adjusted by the operator to measure angular distances between stars.
..."My goodness, and my fortress; my high tower, and my deliverer; my shield, and he in whom I trust; who subdueth my people under me."

Cooper's scanners click in automatically, "for aiming telescopes, reflex sights are used in conjunction with a telescope with a crosshair reticle. The reflex sight makes aiming the telescope on a Astronomical object or a region of the sky instant. Constellation Reticulum is designated to recognize the reticle and its contributions to astronomy."
..."blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight."

Tigress lives here. Cooper was part of it now, coaxed on by her dominance, as if finalist in a contest. A face-off with nature herself. This one moment in time, no oppressors or victors yet. Raw power the way it was intended to be. Her teeth, her only jewelry. Her smell pure, as if the jungle floor itself.

Cooper locks his weapon in again for discharge. "...blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight.

Evolutionary companions don't want to be any stronger or less strong than they are at this moment. He was here for the same reason she was. ..."be not that far from me, for trouble is near; haste Thee to help me.
..I trust in thee: let me not be ashamed, let not mine enemies triumph over me."

Her ferocity was a deep contrast to the darkness of the jungle. She wouldn't have been complete without this. Her eyes held his. So young, yet ancient in her moves, holding her youth as a clever disguise.
..."whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."

Recognition emerges. Something in her eyes. She has the primitive wild gene, the one lost in a century of cloning. The xEVEo project.
Cooper locks his weapon in for one final shot. "Every living substance that I have made will I destroy,,,"





Outpost#5

A long time ago, Coop learned from his teachers.. He even remembers his professors who taught him the scientific method. As a student, his belief in God wanted exponentially as he progressed in his training. He always thought it curious that most of his professors went to church with their families on Sunday. His grasp of Latin and Greek roots as he studied always amused him. He knew the pitfalls of razzle dazzle and glitter and early on despised politics. He became an advocate of truth in science. The bright lights of the big cities never held a grip on him, either. The quirk of language interested him. “People would have to be entranced to go into an entrance,” he mused. He loved language, a new requisition of our prefrontal lobe. He always knew of his intrigue with anti-logic, urges without rationale. He liked walking the streets of Palo Alto after the lights were off. He always liked the opposite of fun, Purposely giving his talkative friends the creeps by his instinctive silence. As a small boy he liked animals but was more intrigued by the dark woods nearby where real critters lived, the squirrels and chipmunks. But this tonight was the dark wood he knew was our there. The one his little farm friends could never live in. Except Smoky, his farm cat.



Cooper started the long walk up the rock steps to the lab building. He had always wanted to be the lead investigator. Now, as the lead scientist, he projected an energizing maner. It had taken close to four billion years for the genetic code to ravel up in this place. Breaking the code had come in due time. He remembered someone famous had said, “Everything in its place and time.” The lab was immaculate. The building resembled an undersized fortress abandoned on the edge of a jungle. Remodeled on the inside, high tech, and of course paid for in full by the Science Consortium. Cooper was already personable for a bespectacled scientist. These new digs made him easy going.




Carter was already in the lab when Cooper unlocked the heavy metal door.

“Suzie from Beijing cam up here while you were gone,” Carter told Cooper.

“She's the one who interviewed for this job about five months ago,” Cooper said. “I remember her. Tall, thin, always carrying a red umbrella, rain or shine. Yeah, her complexion. She's worried about it. Pretty face. She said she's applied to a number of mainland universities. She wants to work here.”

“Because we're close to Beijing?”

“Did she leave her number?”

“No.”

“No phone number? That's strange coming from a woman of science.”

“And she's not on the Main Frame, either, but she's gor a campus boxy where you can reach her if you need to,” said Carter.

Cooper opened a fresh stick of gum and began chewing. He considered himself a lucky man, never getting hooked on the pleasure of smoke.

“She says she's a scientist,” Cooper said. “And really, there's no reason to disbelieve her. But a woman with those looks?” Cooper hesitated with a side glance. “I'm a fool to think women


Page 8

Outpost #1

The Outpost

Cooper hurries along the path to the muffled sounds of the jungle.
"A feeble attempt to supply answers," he thought
For a moment the air clears along with his thoughts. Those years at corporate. What a joke in this mud, Passion for science? Drenching pain drives him up the hill.
"Strange bedfellows," he thought
His mind told him nothing was on the jungle trail now, not at this hour, in this rain. At least nothing that doesn't prowl.
“Opposable thumb,” he thought as he shook his soaked hands. This appendage allows him to climb to safety from the jungle floor? "Not tonight I hope," Cooper thought.

The sound of the hunter is silence. Genes answer the question, as if to break silences of unseen forces with eyes.
This jungle leaves no residue of death. At first light the evidence would be gone, as if death never happened, or birth for that matter. Survival of the fittest is just a manifestation, a dream, a temporary presentation like so many pharmaceutical sales pitches back home.
Cooper grips his rifle tight hurrying faster now. Tonight survival becomes personal.

Urges come as no surprise to Suzie. In nature there is a trigger...length of day for leaf abscission, circadian rhythms in insects. Suzie requires only the light of the day. The beauty in her face, the colors a simple manifestation of photovoltaic cells. The difference is in the heart of the sheen for Suzie. She feels no pressure building from within. No urge, feather light.
Suzie knew it as the directive of an ancient gene skillfully crafted by a long forgotten force that once visited. Their Genetic code, DNA double helix. Gene expression but not for Suzie.

The jungle is more beautiful at night. The cool dampness of the jungle floor. The lack of color. He knew all about what was hiding just above the jungle floor. Waiting for only him alone.

Hawaii Photo Poems

Tropical Photo Poems

Tropical Photo Poetry

Hawaii Photo Poetry

Hawaii Photo Poems

Tropical Photo Poems

Tropical Photo Poetry

Uncle Tam's Cabin

Uncle Tam's Cabin

Let's trigger this thing to get out the votes
For bigger and better double standards to loathe
Great smiles with poignant political perceptions
Triumphantly choosing entitlement receptions

One law to abide for common people in silence
Another of spending in frolics of noncompliance
Patient, long suffering, and forgiving are we
We're the kind folks who voted you to office Hawaii

All in favor of a ban of stinky folks in buses
Raise your right hand as family complicity fusses
Do we knowingly stay and work to pay taxes?
Only to furnish colorful dishes to battle axes

If runaway spending could testify as a citizen
Harboring or assisting would be a fugitive politician
Was it directly related to some council duty?
Or business associates family members of beauty

Restore in us all the true meaning of entitlements
That the world owes us a living for all our embattlements
It's expensive to conduct city business virtually
Justify the expense will come to defense eventually

Take a mandatory nap compliments of Rob
Forget evil morality or stealing on the job
Those redeeming possibilities of stepping down
Seems even more intriguing it's now the talk of the town

There are outrages that separate good people from bad
Separating politicians from the public trust they had
Leave behind some ethical structural model to unfurl
Will we ever be taken seriously in our marshmallow world?

Only we the people can author our own authority
And try to save America from political audacity
Retrieve the moral power and sanctity of public citizen
As this era of office holders becomes a social denizen

Truth lies in the death of honesty in government
Makes us cry as if to wonder what our lover meant
Be a hero now and change the view of Hawaiian politic
These cultures of spending have got to go away quick

Spending held captive by political slave master
How will we ever avoid this upcoming disaster
Transform yourself now stand up for your journey
Take the next step sir councilman step down in a hurry

So carefree sexy spending for a Valentines romance
Too eager to please a hungry family's business dance
Bowing down to the dinner check with ill gotten funds
Unintended costs over Chinatown crime prevention guns

Yes we thought you were who we wanted you to be
Now newly reported notations face a possibility
Justified, dismissed, and diminished this may be
Still remains our image of who we thought you would be

How much more longer to wear these blinders must we
The fraud in your corner out of fear couldn't see
Thankful to someone for removing our blinders are we
Face yourself now Uncle Tam, step down, set yorself free

When fancy talk gets relieved of its duty
Living your life becomes you as a beauty
Congratulations to you on coming to where you are
But your journey is not over now, not by far

Your pattern of deciet and good days are numbered
If only somebody could have counted to a hundred
We thought you to be one of the good guys we depend
Embark on your journey Rod you can still be the man

You can finish it standing at your personal ground zero
No better do the right thing step down be the hero
Passive resistance is only part of this thing
How much longer can you listen to your phone ring?

We know something inside you led you there
First embarked on your journey you really did care
Always been attracted to those freebie things?
To you, who you are and what you are worth is king

We voted you in but not to your chosen persuit
Conformed wishes left you in that dapper suit
We gave you our trust you had your own voice
Your spending held captive by a political choice

Why should we care if you feel bad about this?
Start a new journey by stepping down, off with a kiss
Prior approval for your impropriety now needs to be
So we invite you now on that inner journey go see

You can settle this complaint Mr council man
Now this other little journey must be part of your plan
A run for congress or Governor's seat
Michael Jackson said it best, now it you must beat

So trigger it now light that good flame
Constituents forgive we're not fast to blame
So the next move is yours and we won't trouble you more
Just please stand up and walk down that ramp out the door

And about that chattered talk you said were allegations
Fancy talk has a way to damn the greatest of nations
Spending accepts its fate and just continue on as usual
Listening to someone other than yourself for perusal

Take us to task even make us now sing
Sometimes even councilmen needs counseling
So many others hear and see these words
You have to do something besides a few blurbs

Through smelly little naps or a mandatory snack
You have to believe us we had your back
To be ready and willing you have to hear it from within
Come on please now take that journey get in

We trust you didn't here footsteps not even a sound
Just say no when the next one comes around
Maybe public education can ask you about the economy
You can chair a seat in the zone then put on a comedy

The possibilities are endless like the crime in Chinatown
Where they may less than the amount charged put down
No greater satisfaction than helping the homeless
You can dedicate your life to those with boneheadedness

Next Valentines Day you can make it to the ball
Even pick up the phone and return a call
We are left with one fact and that's for you to get traction
And allow us to follow you and railroad your action

We know you see the gravity in this seat that got hot
You liked gravity's pull to your favorite dining spot
To follow up with a little action now connect the dots
Even out and holding that sign, we loved you lots

Now whimsical stubbornness can't get you far
Thoughts of governors and mayors drive away far
You can go back to the old way try to do it if you can
Think about it Ron, as we now hold a grown man's hand

Characterizations defined as fitting into racist norms
Cast within the apologetics of oncoming storms
Stripped of your strength in that little think tank
Your capacity to irritate rankles the file and rank

Yes councilmen need a little counsel time happening
Who opposes illegals swimming and city workers napping?
Snacking with homeless smells can't ride the bus
Whoever really cares about all that fuss?

Uncle Tam you understand gravity but will you act on it?
We have all created an image of who we wanted to sit
We know you have been long suffering in that little trance
To listen to your phone ring without passive resistance

We forgive you for we know we were the ones that voted you in
It's really not your fault go ahead have a little grin
Understand gravity and the weight of the complaint
Your dining out feeding frenzy makes us all faint

Order up now but stop feeding your friends
With stolen money you might get them in trouble again
Now they too have to distance themselves from you
Under crush of your faith in your entitlement boo boo

Your pattern of misuse renews the resolve
You can still be a hero you can show us up all
Do the right thing, step down take a minute
It's for the better, and you'll be a better man for it

Cherry Super Ferry

Disparity's Dignified Charity in Stigmatized Thunder

Inaction upon auction comes in tones glitzed down
Disposable diaspora powers and sparks out on the town
Ability eyes where action defies those once stigmatized
In bits and pieces art rise to expectation's surprised

Left to stand alone fear of the grown grows into a growl
lesson is sure nothing remains pure as the ambitious night owl
Passing through a ritual now fastened to a many-sided face
To leave it alone to find a home leaves this jail of darkness in place

How strong the character to encroach on diners of cockroach crackers
In understandable lies the living tries and ends up becoming hackers
Discrepancies unfold in the mix of those bold enough to do what was told
Expected of them out on a whim a whipper snappers grin grabs hold

Procrastination's prize so noble sits you in a bubble's world of hurt
Prolong the need to act on the seeds of doubt to shout out and blurt
To not make the cut even though the rut runs deep under and afoot
Arrival at mercy left greed's agreement so thirsty for thunder soot

Bear it down now to truths to be found what grows and is grown
That war inside shows in your eyes comes in any size hand sown
Symptoms in synapses smirk with delight into a night of simple melees
Manifest a bee hive where swarms thrive to fester the best sympathies

Inside the coffee houses of pain with so much to gain are your latest projects
Cult of guilt rock and tilt from a perch on shouters of prophets
To profit anew as fear ripples through as quirky jellyfish nations make landfall
Rectitudes defend where doohickies and gaps pretend and take up the mantle

The hit man of motherhood would try if it could oh by the way it can't
Allow yourself the gift to get over that rift in rectal bells of harmony
Lemons to lemonade the lionized maid of utilitarian urbane
You can do it come on and spew it hey this is really good stuff

Environments call to leap to its mother lode boundary
Crookedness rears an ugly head heeded straight to a foundry
A greater royalty lies in the disguise of the utilitarian urbane
A secret star rises to bounce a new fate so mundane

Responsibility's impossibility heads once again for the gate
Does action wait for no one to drop their treasured veil of hate?
Bridles so sweet in sweets of travail of mercy's majestic magic
A ripple of fever tortures silence inside a room with a view of the tragic

A tortoise of self sets aside a shelf of growth as diaspora din disappears
Signature tricks come in variety kicks to burden irritation's inactivated spears
So articulate the pain as it casts its mind in storied stone and grain
Frailty's fatality is the act of letting you out of jail all alone once again

The thunder of inaction is one bird in traction droppings its tendencies
Tend to see beyond the seas in impartiality's mail order cupcake freebies
Has what it takes sequenced the consequence laid bare before all?
Cloaked by clouds and all in satisfaction of artifact in fact through the crack they still fall

Venus with her clouds all shrouded in a lover's fancy camp of sorts
Dilemma is a mama squeezed tight for a fit of miniskirts and shorts
On which part of your little plant is it not well to sit?
Those ensemble looks grade on a daily basis to chomp at the bit

Assembled and cooked up by impact dresses to thrill
Parading and berating shows the way or so you think it will
My spent time on earth approaches now as only a blink
Go for it head out for the gate even not knowing it's too late to think

Crooked and fried cowed coworkers smirky and snide retailers and readers take
Converging in kitchens let's all just pitch in and stand up to bake proverbial cake
In ensembles of soft cloud even tragedy strikes dear not far from fear
No matter how you cut it outside the sign says,"No crying, trying required here."

Rift Valley Blues

Hinamatsuri no aisatsu...


Talking Mounted Tension and Rift Valley Blues

Was it so long ago we happened upon each other
Just yesterday happy in fun and sunny weather
Somehow our love and best days just faded away
So long ago memories still hold a tribute to pay

Youth connects and interacts to fight for attention
On that journey of life, self discovery gets little mention
Collisions so gentle hit it off eventful right on the nose
Watering our fragile little gardens with a big fire hose

Perceptions from the past adjusted by time's deal breakers
In the stillness of night our loving arms fought as only love takers
What might have been still can be, I never could hear clocks tick
Eternal flame triggers from deep within signaled by a facebook click

Outside soul searcher can you please tell me the time this time?
Was blindness blindsided by a blind spot inside my mind?
Love and bouquets had their say in their own talkative way
There's that look your lovers shook off, hope to shake it some day

My ready and willing sound only you found thought sent off to a trash bin
Stays warm inside where surprises still hide and come out from within
In this danger I slide as my stupor flies on those sweet wings of your whim
Should I glide over by your side and try to get another grin in?

My mind wonders and wanders what should I do, continue to click through?
Ask for another friend request like the day we met the day you said yes I do
Then as now I step back to see somehow between us hasn't changed tally
Feeling remorse quiet thoughts ride a horse on mounting tension's rift valley

Love's temper tantrums once tampered with urges to splurge and apologize
Once again those eyes so long ago can disguise am I one of those nice guys?
You were a good choice such a nice voice may I ask your horn sound revival?
Hearts seek to be as lovers urge on to deal more with hunger than survival

Fending off others those lovers who went south fast saddled up to the wind
Can all those little things once we spattered really now matter from within?
Dedicate your life to be kind, hesitate your strife that urges to be blind
It's not about you any more its about me and all those chores left behind

The bread crumbs I leave on the trail for them to find will serve as enough
Nothing really matters except action and patter with no need to feel tough
When first made a fist twists anger's wrist the depths saw my shadow side
Still do I get it in life we can't quit if only to see reflections looking inside

Go out and give, don't wait for what life brings or whatever may not
So feel true remorse think quiet thoughts ride tribute's horse to a trot
Take a little action get some traction somewhere out there songs will ring
She once heartened heart strings among other things now quietly go sing

Obama

The Obama phenomena was timely. We consider him a "favorite son," but many of us showed up in person to exercise our freedom as Americans. Some forces at play admittedly were reactionary against the incumbent political party, much as it had been in 1972 against Nixon.

The difference is that, even in Hawaii, today's political world is becoming more corporate, (witness "the Akaka bill," a proposal to incorporate "Hawaiian Indians"), and corporate "reality" is created by agreements at a meeting.

Two years ago a stand against the Republican Party could be regarded as a vote against a burgeoning U.S. military-Iraq oil corporate consortium spearheaded by an increasingly inarticulate president.

The Obama phenomena was the appearance of an articulate man who could run a meeting in the spirit of debate.
That was what we needed at the time.

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