Myth For My Tale Bone

Patchwork Dreams © Yvonne Mokihana Calizar, 2019 Cause me to pin that View of a sweet drink of river To your reasons to resist One more fracture To Earth's belly. Cause her to spread Apple Banana butter In the Dreams of the children Who long for tender Sweetness on parched lips. Cause the voices of Hawks to blend Seamless with the Song of breaching Koho la . Cause, cause, cause The patches of my dreams To stitch here, there, A herringbone to wear. It is cold again. Winter is. Winter has started and when the elemental reality of Lono -- atmosphere -- bears down on the warmer ground -- Earth -- the shelter of a heated space is just a slice of a dream. A single emotion, lonely sensation among the many others. We weather weather through experience.  The separation between Lono and us is minimal. Our curved roof, and wisely-built wagon is tested for their solidity and facility with flow. A decade of life on the edge(s) has initiated us to the wilderness s

Javelina Rovers © Yvonne Mokihana Calizar, 2019 Javelina Rovers Will snort big time Your Gringo Lingo Stop  saying "Ja" English no, no, no Hah-va-LEE-nah Juana Not "Joe-a-nah" "It's Juana, like Tijuana.   Juana, not Joe-a-nah, in East Side Sushi   I was having a morning iphone chit chat with my son. It was early Wednesday, but I was here at the keyboard taking a first lasso at the poem 'Javelina Rovers.' I started reading it to him, excited to have a new something coming on; something Cordelia Camelia would probably enjoy. He kept interrupting me, "Don't say Ja!" I couldn't hear him, didn't understand his protestation. Ha! The Mom was being corrected and was not having any of it. Dah. Like I said it was early, and I was in my zone, not expecting an exploration zone. But my son was having none of that. The word was Spanish, and the Gringo Lingo had to go. We had one more lesson in language and this tim

Happy Full Moon in Earthy Taurus! Somewhere between the platforms of formalized artist's patronage (like Patreon) and the many levels of website communication/blogging there is a somewhere that will fit my style of creation; I wasn't quite sure what that would look like ... but clues kept coming my way. Playing with Cordelia Camilia really did the trick; training my mind and leading with my heart helps. I received a real, down to earth message from a dear old friend who has helped and supported me and Pete in so many ways. What she was telling me was she was feeling guilty for not sending $ so had stopped reading the posts. Oh, no! Oh, no! 👌👌So, this O.K Page is my way of acknowledging the success of sharing my flavor of heArt felt creativity in the everyday and add on to it with my Mother Tongue -- Hawaiian. And, this page is a way to gather up any lost and tattered spirits and guilt festering in the cracks and crevices . 👌 = KOKUA Kokua in Hawai

© Yvonne Mokihana Calizar, 2019 Cordelia Camilia Was partial to purple, Dead set against cold. Her taste for dark Chocolate-dipped coconut So widely well-known. Her best pals were Bunnies, in particular, Sheila and Peter Carpone. The world as she knew it Was sweet on most days But crazy lopsided on others. To better consider the problem Cordelia Camilia sent word To her friends. After hot tea with honey, And Half-dipped chocolate 'roons The three ran in circles, turned cartwheels, scored 'Goal.' The solution you see was, "Push Play!" Liner Notes: Between the time of dreaming and awakening schemes, this name kept calling me: "Cordelia, Camilia. Cordelina, Camilia." I've come to recognize that particular kind of call as 'calling' for a story. Where or why matter less if I don't over think; the story or poem (long or short) will pull itself into being. Cordelia, Camilia came smoothly and quickly to the pa

Born Purple © Yvonne Mokihana Calizar, 2019 I was a preemie. Born purple. I'd need time to become a color more acceptable as human, Though it's more than likely Purple was precisely the color I was supposed to be. My birthday is next Saturday, November 16th. I'll be seventy-two. So Thursday I set myself and Pete on a mission to renew my driver's license ten days before time (although there are changes to that deadline and I had till the end of November). I rousted myself from bed, made and ate some breakfast and boarded the 9 AM ferry. My plan was to drive into Everett (a choice to drive a short distance after the ferry ride). I've been in this area of Washington for a very long time. Everett is way more familiar to me than I'd like the town to be, and when I cross that water on the ferry rides into the Mukilteo terminal, I often ask myself, "Why am I still here?" With a little help from folks in the area once we got into Evere