The Reason We Breathe

Only this morning, my mother died
as I sat holding her hand.
Her eyes were shut tight, her mouth wide
Only this morning, my mother died
I watched her chest heave; the oxygen tried
to fill up her lungs, as nature had planned.
Only this morning, my mother died
as I sat holding her hand.

The Rape of My Hawaii

When Roosevelt was President

Your country went to war
This land was filled with discontent

Pearl Harbor underwent
Bombings to settle a score
When Roosevelt was President

Despite his skill, couldn't circumvent
The blazing battle on our shore
This land was filled with discontent

Your boys, they prayed, pledged ten percent
"Please, dear Lord," they did implore
When Roosevelt was President

Your god didn't save not one red cent
Home in a box sailors went galore
This land was filled with discontent

I painted my face to represent
An American version of a whore
When Roosevelt was President
This land was filled with discontent 

--Kukana Wong 1919 - 1962

(written by Susan Budig)

Mindful Poetry: Heaven

Mindful Poetry: Heaven:
Holy
Ever
After,
Victorious
Eternal
Ninth Cloud


 Herbert Joseph Budig
 1931 – 2015

Heaven

Holy
Ever
After,
Victorious
Eternal
Ninth Cloud

Herbert Joseph Budig

1931 – 2015

Picking Tomatoes

These are the cherry tomatoes my father picked

on the morning he died

He woke at 7:15, missing the sunrise by half an hour

on the morning he died

He pulled on his summer robe and brown leather slippers

on the morning he died

And made his way upstairs to the kitchen

Dug around in the container-drawer

For a plastic dish then stepped outside

His back yard faces southwest, there was dew on the grass

Sunlight slanted between the houses

And cut across the pepper plants and rose bushes

On the morning he died

He didn’t hesitate as he drew his feet through the lawn

On the morning he died

His fingers found the bright red balls surrounded by green leaves

On the morning he died

He filled up his cup with cherry tomatoes,

Which I am now eating one by one

Mindful Poetry: Today, August 31st

Mindful Poetry: Today, August 31st: My father died while eating peanut buttered toast and sliced bananas Before he finished his last bite his head fell back as if inspec...

Today, August 31st

My father died while eating
peanut buttered toast and sliced bananas

Before he finished his last bite
his head fell back as if to inspect
a cobweb on the ceiling

This is how my mother found him
when she returned to the breakfast table
carrying her toothbrush smeared with mint paste

“I felt for a pulse at his neck, but
there was no beat,”
she explained for the eighth time

Neighbors flood the phone lines
and stuff the refrigerator full
of wild rice hot dish, tuna salad, and slaw

Instead of his arms hanging limply
at his side, Mom described how they were spread out
palms up, his devotional still open on the table

Like a skydiver prepared to take flight

Time in a Palindromic Lesson

You don’t notice that time has passed
Unless
You aren’t having any fun
When that happens
It won’t help to tap on your watch

Measuring sky by sun might work, but
It’s best when you ignore time altogether
Throw away contingencies because
Time will escape you if you don’t

(this poem can be read line by line starting with either the first line working down or the last line working up)

I’ve learned to notice

I’ve learned to notice where water comes from
Down from the sky, caught in cisterns and saved,
then used by the single scoop-full to flush a toilet
or poured by the bowlful to take a bath

I’ve learned to notice how skin is covered
out of protection, not modesty
out of practicality, not frippery
a sign of age, a mark of adulthood

I learned to notice where my foot is pointed,
how not to step over someone
or touch their head
even a yang-sow of the night has an honored head

I’ve learned to notice
every other place in this world
is the center of their universe, too.

-a poem about being a foreigner