Somewhere between the simple, slow and quiet
She found him, far away from the touristy crowd
Shirt untucked, canvas slung over his shoulder
His skin, warm and salty
Sweet leftovers from his affair with the sea
She missed his taste, a revelation realized
As her lips traced each of his pulses
Throbbing with life, so vital, so intense.
He found her organic, neatly tucked away in the coastal hillside
Her scent, as elemental as her beauty
Her eyes, the violet that blooms from the Jacaranda tree
Armeria painted her lips a soft spanish pink
He charted her every detail in his mind
He carefully navigated to points of interest
His compass, his heart
His hands, her pleasure
Their love
The earth and sea.
Categories:
touristy, love,
Form: Free verse
Sometimes there is a need for reality
Like the wrinkles and roughness of an old down Mainer
Sure P town and The Vinyard are nice and touristy
But for reality and hang it in the wind
There's no place like CuttyHunk
Hell you'd have to go all the way down to Isla Morada
To get reality like that.
Now there's some folk t'drink with!
It's hard to describe the overall feeling of homesick
A bar off the Alawai near Waikiki, Another in Inverness
But for down to earth look you in the eye people
Well Cutty Hunk and Isla Morada are tops
I'm from Liverpool, old Liverpool.
Reality belongs in that bombed out old town
Pass me that thing dammit
Enough with reality
Categories:
touristy, natureold, old,
Form: I do not know?
I am sitting here on Kuhio Street
with the old Honolulu blues again.
The early day shift's coming on their beat
in the midst of the breezy, pre-dawn game,
where the last of the midnight street life girls
and their pimps argue at Jack in the Box,
and hotel crews, aloha shirts and curls,
grab a cup on their way to cope with lots
of tourists immune to all history
of this port. The last black stretch limousine
from the night heads home and the touristy
families stumble from hotel "da kine"
to Hawaiian holiday on remains
of a past era's colonized domains.
Categories:
touristy, allegory, introspection,
Form: Sonnet