To Begin: A segue, A poem a piece, A photograph

A segue
 n. A transition without interruption 

This post marks a transition in my blogging life. Without a peek into what Pete is up to it would feel less complete. So to begin Posts-for-Pay a short video of Pete loading his precious cargo of tools only a true tinker could appreciate into TF our new truck.

A poem a piece and a photograph

Myths for my tale bone

© Yvonne Mokihana Calizar

I reach deep for the myths that

feed my tale bone.

The goddess was no more than a girl

when she began her crossing.

Foreign to the Island

She had with her

Two tools:

A magic skirt 

and her powerful chanting.

I am a migrant

A traveling ancestor

Growing old on other islands.

The tools I carry?

Safety pins 

and my propensity to dive

Even when 'punch drunk.'

Aging

© Pete Little

I have a feeling for age

A sense of pressing presence

Knowing through an open body

Doubting with a closing mind

I had a feeling for death

A distant presence asking for time

Showing no concern for now

Believing there is a time and place

I have a feeling for memories

Caring and sharing in their support

Becoming more real each time they are told

Leaving me wondering where they are now

I had a feeling for earth

Toes searching for worms

Warming to the scent of decay

Yearning to become complete

Myths for my tale bone came through as inspiration thanks to generous artist, writer, editor and blogger Terri Windling's post 'Writers and Islands.' The goddess in the poem is Hi'iaka, younger sister of the goddess Pele. The traditional mythology of my Hawaiian roots include the Pele clan stories; stories that feed the literal and ongoing bones of my ancestral memory. When I began to write the story of "The Safety Pin Cafe", it was Hi'iaka who appeared to beckon and sustain the character Pale, the Border Witch, who happens into the mystical cafe operated by a fairy and a silver haired raven. The medicine in this story was classic inter-twining of 'reaching deep to feed' the tale with the potential of ancestors and talismans of the Pacific Northwest, where the story was being told.

Hi'iaka's 'crossing' referred to in the poem Myths for my tale bone was her initiation journey. The girl was called to retrieve her elder sister's lover Lohiau after he died from grief when the fire goddess left him. The chant "Kunihi ka Mauna", an 'Oli Kahea, is a chant used to call out as a way of announcing oneself and asking permission to enter. This chant reminds me of the long enduring connection with our ancestors who are with us regardless of physical distance and the flow of time. "Kunihi ka Mauna" is the 'oli Hi'iaka chants when she arrives on the island of Kauai in search of Prince Lohiau.

A very special mahalo nui to my son Kawika Brown for sending me the work of Maile Kaku who wrote an exquisitely informing paper, "Hi'iaka in Paris: Transplanting the Divine Act." Because I was privileged to read her work, my life and my understanding of ritual and our Hawaiian culture has been amplified. I wove Maile's mana'o into the poem and indeed my tale bone is more alive than it was before I read it! Mahalo piha, e Maile.

The 'oli "Kunihi ka Mauna" is chanted here:

Pete wrote the poem Aging as he sat on the futon and leaned into the stainless steel wall of our golden wagon, Vardo for Two. He was motivated to write when a friend told him about a local circle of local folks gathering to share poems. He wrote the wonderful stanzas you read above.  The words flowed through the hand of a man who is more often holding a screw gun or moving pieces of material from one place to another. When Pete was done reading Aging to the group he was asked, "Did you write that?" followed quickly with "Do you have other poems?" Pete's answers were: yes, and no. Earlier in the circle every one was asked "Who is your favorite poet?" When it was Pete's turn after a long pause he said, "Alfred A. Neuman."

These poems are a joint expression of the two heARTS that beat in our seemingly different expression of physicality. A short and dumpling round woman with deep Hawaiian-Chinese-Filipino roots. A long lean and tricky man who knows his way around tools and practical philosophy. We are a diverse and oddly entwined pair.

The photograph of beautiful hands encircled and touching a back are those of friends gathered to celebrate the life of a dear friend. The message of mythic connection, "My propensity to dive even when punch drunk" from the affects of smells and chemicals; and the stanzas that repeat "I have a feeling ... "   crosses time and space.

This post which began with a video captures a roll of copper wire in Pete's hand, a gift from Loretta that friend we celebrated. We leave the photo and poetry here in memory of dear Loretta who made the crossing between times a few weeks ago and who made wonderful cookies and other goodies while she was with us.


How posts-for-pay flows:

If these poems titillate your tale bone or cause a ripple in your heart consider sending a token of your appreciation. Send me an email mokihanacalizar@gmail.com. Let me know you'd like to exchange a tip for a post and I will send you our snail mail address where you can send your tip or token.

It's a less than quick method to get to this not-quite-free posting form, but I'm hoping to make a start with it and see how the flow goes ...


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E Ola Mau Mauli (Power to the People)!
Mokihana and Pete