Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

tahiti nui is a polynesian bar on the north shore of kauai- long time ago louise owned it- she was the queen of the luau- the bar was ripping, with rock and roill, hawaiian music and dinner shows-louise got herself a white man and had a big wedding with a helicopter and rose petals dropped from the sky and all the stuff that makes people kind of melt inside-things didnt go well- her white man was a recovering alcoholic and a friend of mine- he had to throw in the towel o the polynesian queen.he isnt around here anymore- i would guess it wasnt too comfortable for him after that- when louise died, christian took it over- we used to live in the house next door- people would stumble into the back of the bar and into the bushes right next to our bedroom window---and start having sex- and then my husband at the time and i would have sex too- it seems like the 'time' to do it- if ya know what i mean, and if you dont- try to find out... fun as all get out-anyway- at two oclock every morning the nui would break all the liquor bottles, and then i would listen to the waves in hanalei bay- sometimes pounding all night long- it was exciting- couldnt wait to wake up and go have a look-these days it is best to wait until you can see- snake road is infested with bike riders early in the morning, and joggers with no lights- so if you dont wanna fly the bicycyle rider then-slow down and watch carefully- 5 miles and hour to 25 miles and hour is the average spped here- you do the math, one lane highway around the island-SLOW- VERY SLOW=aloha driving really means 'watch out for the dumb tourist who forgot the use of turn signals and brakes ..well perhaps this is just another excuse to stay here on the river and get ready to go stand up paddling..the sunsrays touch my fingers gently- all that rushing around almost killed me- then suddenly serenity- like hard earned - and cherished-the things that came from the past had to leave- i think i have only one dress left from the way i once lived- gave everything away- and still have reservations about all of it- walked away from my house, everything- to live here- on a river in the jungle-and write about when my children were small here on a rock in the middle of the sea-
once at brietnbush , a hot springs in oregon- a women that ran the sweat lodge- luta said 'take this stick and learn of the medicne of the west and bring it back' i took it- and well the rest is an even longer story-i was still in love then, trying to make a bad boy good i guess- and failing... and well- spirit took all that and shook it right down like the security at the airport, got completely renovated- and i guess i am learning the medicine of the west with some history- involved- kind of healing what once was, before the time of puberty in my children, when i still had ideas about love and rommance, when i believed in the dreams of what some call love. i seem now like a person of integrity- but you play take away with love and i get real indian in a hot second- all my buffalo and eagle just wakes up ; so what now- huh? well this day has its arms outstretched to me- and the house where my children grew up ; and the house we built- is all here on this rock-since the man i still think about never knew me i guess it is just like me sharing my ghosts- most of the time - it is just re-examination- on other days- it is like all the threads weave toogether nicely and create a pattern- one that certain people can read- i will sing - i will pray- i tell people- 'know that you are loved' why? do i even know that? why yes- this road has taught me- that it is true...even if it is a bit bumpy from time to time- even washed out and rocky- the road brings you to and from where you need to go--

Informative and fine prose poem.

the bar tenders at the nui know everything of what the cocanut wireess has to offer, and we have all known each other for 25 years now- the winds of hurricane inkiki bonded us as a family for life- the loves and pains of life and death- threaded thru the expanding and contracting cells like birth- creation- floats like elation as she sleeps waiting for her hunter and opu fisherman with her lil baby here - sleeping...i wanted this before the thickest air waltzed in here-tried letting her know- and they have to tell you what they tell themselves-because they will tell you the same story tommorow, emebellished and well rehearsed... showing pictures of children they will never see- keeping the barstool warm- flirting with the new girl on the island-all fucked up and chasing me down the parking lot asking me for a ride- if i want any pills-
and i just dont take them- or hang out there-but the bar- will always call to me- my sweat is in the floors from dancing gone by...

- the road brings you to and from where you need to go--

The road was everything to me for 20 years. It was not just kicks, it was my home, my lover, my refuge it was everything When I lost it, when I came to the end of the road. It was a trucker's nightmare, I was plagued by thoughts of suicide. but then I found some peace of mind when I let it go.
and just figured wherever I was was where I needed to go. Where I need to be.
please pardon the spontaneous personal ramble

Yes, "prose poem"
That is what I meant when I said Kerouac,

Creative Soul, Great remembrances...Wonderful photos...Kind of Proustian in a Hawaiian sort of way. Aloha in there...

Yep, Still Trucking, we all have a story to tell... All of us, before we die,
hope to get what it says in an old song: A "Satisfied Mind".

you are my bruddahs on this writing walk- aloha-thanx--SMILE