Mother? Father? Why do you weep?
That returned body may rest, but my soul does not sleep.
I witnessed a flower draped figure lay in gentle repose.
Though, my homeward bound spirit long ago rose.
Mother? Father? Why do you weep?
In the Lord's hands, my immortal flame he does lovingly keep.
Swaddled now is that form by a drawn curtain of soil.
Though, my echo absconded from the manacles of Earthly suffering and toil.
Mother? Father? Why do you weep?
For my everlasting essence dwells amongst the pure and spotless sheep.
Thick are the scars engraved throughout the heart; etched by the grievous lash of sorrow.
Though, forbid these binding words depart; you will join me eternally, on your own concluding morrow.
Smooth tendrils of
Smoke drift–
Upward
Rosey scents of
Dried petals
Swirl
In evaporating water
Cinnamon bark
Saffron
Almonds in thin
Slices please–
Honey
Cardamom pods open
Reveal history–
Sip.
by Jade
I am all but the flower you once slaughtered
After your lashings both from the hand that used to hold mine and the tongue that gifted me my name,
I am less than the fragments you once left
I am more than burnt I am ash
I am not yet dead
As new life grows upon me
Mold
I am mold and mold and mold
I am what you created but now mourn
I am what you have gifted me with your hopes and you lashings
I am a flower who yearns to grow but only shrinks
Who only poisons
-a daughter
by I. S.
Passing headlights, like two yellow eyes
spy the human figure on the walkway.
He awakens from underneath the blue-colored tarp,
as the morning sky changes from black, to navy, to bright blue.
This is his cement motel room.
The small man doesn't require much,
just a place to close his weary eyes and a pad
to sit upon when cold creeps up from the sidewalk.
He sits upright, always vigilant, chin down,
elbows in, legs crossed.
A blue sidewalk Buddha.
Breathing in what you breathed out--sadness, joy, excitement, loss
My breath touched your flashes of emotions without you knowing.
You exhaled what you didn’t need, I inhaled what I needed
Feeling nurtured, held, and revered, without you knowing.
Neither of us sensed a deep intimacy within these silent moments of connection
A giving and receiving.
As we sat on the ground with stars masked by daylight,
We breathed out, feeling gentle caresses upon our faces
And we knew not.
As you eased your body onto the earth’s lap, your rough edges softened
Into a sweetness, Earth shed her tears.
In our eyes, the beloved calls each of us home
We share a path hiding our inner glow.
Let’s breathe together
Remembering what we deeply know.
by John Fulan
Falling fast asleep
Haunted by your dreams
Into them life will creep
Then strangers set the scenes
A child met face to face
Pearls of wisdom given
Lessons for your own sake
This youngster seems so driven
Through blinding light, a man appears
Intent to set you straight
In oratory, your conscience seared
Your person feels second rate
In darkness an old gent stumbles
You run to break his fall
A voice so rich and humble
Life’s trials are all recalled
Wake to different meaning
Of how life should be made
Atone for lack of giving
Cherish what can be saved
My Hawaiian hair
Cultural validation
My hair, a weapon
“You’re white, but your hair”…
Each thick strand confuses them
My hair, a privilege
Skin not brown? Okay
Weird, kūpuna prayed for ME…
My hair, a warning
Hawaiian for clout
“I’m Kanaka!” in DMs
My hair, their envy
“Hawaiian enough”
I hate that determiner
Koko: Hawaiian
Woven together, depending on each other
Giving birth to our lives.
As bubbles arise and give up their air, bursting with life.
We wander thru our minds
As if they were solid and firm
Casting our thoughts, as a spider spins its web.
We are tangled up in ideas, coming and going
Losing ourselves around the spinning of our feelings
As if they were all true.
May we awaken with ourselves, inner and outer parts,
As strands coursing thru our limbs.
Can we settle into a moment
Where inner and outer meet?
An intimacy filled with piercing aliveness
Full of life
We cannot contain.
by John Fulan
If only I could be a poet
I would show my love for you
But I cannot find the expression
That is from my heart and true
Words would flow from my fingers
And the verses would be ever so fine
If I were some kind of poet
I'd wish that you'd be mine
The stars in the sky would glitter
And the moon would be oh so full
If I could find the words to tell you
My own heartstrings you would pull
My lips would gently kiss your mouth
I would hold you in my embrace
But my words forever betray me
That I cannot describe your face
Your eyes are drops of ocean
And your cheek a red, red rose
The softest velvet is your perfect skin
I love you from your head to your toes
I shall e'er remain in silence
and adore you from afar
A poet's words I shall ne'er express
So I'll strum a lament on my guitar
Education gives us knowledge.
Knowledge is power.
No one can take it away.
We give, and give.
Sometimes we need to take.
Today is a day the Educator got Educated.
It’s disappointing.
A balance of joy and grief.
Holding space for the hard.
Without losing our light.
And speaking up and out.
There are days we feel alone.
Together we have power.
Together in community education is our responsibility.
by JLW
These days I spend spinning
Twisting the tips of my fingers till they’re thread no thicker than sand
and weaving my way under skin with half hitches and figure eights
these days I spend
wondering where my knuckles end and the macramé begins
spinning half truths into white lies
spinning hard wins into failed tries
Wind me up and I’ll go spinning
Wind me up and I’ll claw my way
Wind me up and I’ll eat you
Spinning
by Lauren Adams
Learning comes alive when all means all.
All of the students, together.
In class.
At the flag salute.
With other kids at recess.
Playing, running, rolling, TJ searching for bugs.
After, he tells the class about trantulas and black widows.
Friends are made.
Learning comes alive
When adults become allies to students.
And see them for who they are.
Unique humans with much promise.
More than a number.
A name on a roster.
Another IEP meeting.
A statistic.
Another box, checked off the list.
Young souls, with promise.
by JLW
Who am I? And where do I lie?
A question this vessel again is to find.
Follow the school, and never do stray,
To stay alive, to stay the same.
What is my name? What are my traits?
My brain has lost my own very tastes;
My love to do, is what is replaced,
To stay aligned, to stay the same.
Eyes upon eyes, including mine
Are to blame,
Sticking out is the key, but
Too is the shame.
Of not being matched, or
Ever alike.
Being yourself is the death yet the light.
Who am I? And where did I lie?
A question this vessel again had to find.
In an open field, among open eyes,
Opened again, was my original mind.
I did something different, and that is I.
It was a cool desert night with the west wind blowing
We sat side by side,
warm
breath
flowing
Thoughtful tune
Golden moon
Silent chimes, that simply stopped time
Still
Quiet
Free
There’s no place I’d rather be
by Alex Zeisse
I have never seen the wind
But I can feel it
And know that it is.
I have never touched the light
But I can see that it
Brings color and perspective to all that it touches.
As surely as the unseeable wind sends sunflowers dancing
And the untouchable light brings their sunny yellow faces to life
I now find those I’ve loved deeply
Whose physical loss brought so much pain
Still subtly whisper somewhere
Just beyond my conscious awareness
A breeze against my heart
A beacon in the darkness
I feel their unseen present eternal authentic love
And know it truly does go on forever
As real as the wind and the light
Only endless…
My Friend
It feels like we’ve been in the wilderness longer than Moses and the children of Israel—
Wandering ‘round and ‘round the redundant Mount Sinai. Has it been forty years yet?
No matter. It’s been too long and I find myself reeling under the baggage I’ve collected along the way.
Do you feel any need to go ‘round this mountain even one more time?
Do you think we can find enrichment continuing to track the sorry paths choice and chance have brought us to,
Or do we just multiply angst and aggravation by revisiting them over and over again?
I see with sudden clarity that it’s today again today. A new day unlike any other.
Let’s live in it. Let’s rise anew from the ashes of our pasts.
Not broken, not mended, not maimed, but forged,
And stronger and better than we were ever capable of being…Until now.
The way ahead is forward.
I’ve caught a wonderful new magic blowing in the winds of change.
Could it be contagious? I’d love to share it with you,
But with or without you, my grief and grievance are relinquished.
My heart is off its knees and I’m shining into the uncertain future.
Maybe I’ll fly…
I hope you catch the magic. Thank you for being
My Friend.
Terror and fear
Terror and fear
Who knows me better than terror and fear?
Those two good friends of mine, they whisper in my ear
Sweet, sweet lies
Those bastards. They've got me in a four-fold tie
Terror and fear
Terror and fear
Manufactured consent
Scorched cries
"Torches of freedom for soldiers on the front lines?"
Ah!
They've got me!
They've got me!
I'm down and out, they've got me!
“Really, now? Must it come to this? Enlist! Enlist!”
I've spent so long believing this
For how could it be…
Deadly?
Deadly?
A whisper turned deadly?
by Alex Zeisse
With eddies of salty air dancing upon the sandy shore as audience
And the piercing heat of an unfeeling sun staring down in silent judgement,
I,
mind in motionless meditation,
thoughts held taut with terrible intent,
fingers gently grasping a leathery hilt,
tendons held taut with terrible intent;
they,
eyes enshrouded in shadow,
thoughts held taut with terrible intent,
their sword-arm a savage snare,
tendons held taut with terrible intent;
we,
our eyes locked, our fates inescapable,
thoughts held taut with terrible intent,
anticipation beating in our chests,
tendons held taut with terrible intent;
suddenly,
our bodies explode with motion like waves crashing upon the shore,
a splash of violence soon lost to the tide, washed out to sea, forgotten.
I’m addicted
Utterly in love
With first step taken from home
The moment you say
Goodbye
And the second you switch to
A wayward soul
Where beaches that get wet sand stuck between your toes
And desert nights so dark they reflect the universe
Become home
Yet the loneliness of the road
Always catches up to me
Drawing me back like tide
But as much as I relish in the feel of my own bed
I stare out the window
And the way the tree branch falls
Seems to be a hand waving
Beckoning me to my next adventure
by Anisa Prom
Did you ever see a lighter sky
than the one cast July?
The blue was oh-so light and quaint,
I thought it was about to faint!
Picnic breeze, napping ease,
afternoons such as these;
dreaming through warm car rides
in July; it's heat's arcadian.
Like a haze, summer air
and boredom rays
are the gems that are these days.
Where will they rest?
My heart, my memory's locket,
all nostalgia, though I can't yet spot it,
I know I'll be glad once I've got it.
That July,
don't pass me by!
October changed me in a way
that stole my breath, and
tries to steal my heart away, now
eternally I fight against it.
With every blushing
yawn of aurora
I hear its yearning song;
I hear the echo of my name.
The calling of the Hunter's moon is earnest,
never thinking,
only wanting and will
never fade.
The brisk and longing
fingers of October ever linger,
and my soul is left aching
to taste what I once felt were
glowing nights and
candy sweet days again.
Your heart starts with a door.
It stands taller than the sky
and inside its empty and cold.
If I'm knocking on a hollow heart,
where did the feeling start?
Hand me a rose, or don't,
it will be nothing more to me
than all the other heartaches who have come before.
You, who value all the thorns in roses
but can never give me more than those
and closed doors.
Green girl
Fearful of austerity—
scared of the sunlight
that finds what I hide.
Is it wrong to be outside the mold you’ve known?
is it bad to show myself now—
Not the girl I've outgrown?
Little bits and long phases, doors behind me closed.
wanting what once felt foreign.
naïveté does not fade into dust—
it explodes,
leaving shrapnel in the skin,
like a bullet that cannot be excised—
a piece of it
living with you
forever.