Hawaii is Teaching Me To Write

Hawaii is teaching me to write.  My first month or so,  I saw a posting in the newspaper for a writers group.  I went on a Tues at 10 am and there were about 25 people sitting around the table.  They were of all ages, sizes and colors.  I felt right at home.  I'd brought some of my writing and when it came my turn, I read a poem.  My group's reaction was wonderful and I'll never forget it.  The room was dead silent, people's eyes teared up, some mouths dropped open and then I got "feedback".  Guess what?  They loved my work.  I felt like I was accepted and part of the "Waimea's Writer's Group".  After hearing some of their readings, I knew this was a special place to be and that these were not just weekend warriors, but people that cared deeply about writing and about other people's work.  One man had written a story about a very young couple.  He portrayed the female as strong and able to make decisions, even if it meant not following her boyfriend who was going to college.  By the time he finished reading, he was crying openly and so were others.  I was touched by this.

It was interesting because the group was going to take a hiatus for the summer and meet at another location. I went a few times and was blown away by the location.  We met at a place called Algoods Barn. Algoods is located on a corner piece of the island.  There are horses, cows and lots of chickens running around a huge plot of land.  The trees lean toward the land, shaped by the wind that blows constantly, and the ocean surrounds the land on two sides.  Its a dramatic piece of property that you can't help but fall in love with.  The ladies that own it have built a house with the express purpose of hosting artists and other entrepreneurs. The group has kept me producing at a good rate, but I wanted more.

I met Richard and his wife at a friends house and we got to talking.  Richard owns a gallery and does so many other things just like the rest of us here on the island.  He ghost writes for several authors, plays music and now he's helping me.  What is different about the work I'm doing with Richard is that he's pushing me beyond my limits.  He doesn't swoon over my work, he just asks how I could change it up or say it better.  At first I didn't like it.  Then one of my poems exploded. See what you think.

Anger Flash Song

Girl, take your angry woman suit off ,

It don’t look good on you,

You bringing us all down, I’m telling you,

Nobody’s gonna  like you in that get up you got on now

You’re just scared little girl, cuz no one ever showed you how,

I saw you dancing,

I saw your skirts flying in the air,

It’s your anger that I can not bear,

It leaves me empty, it just drains me.

Life hurts us bad, I ought to know,

But no difference really, you’ve just gotta go

Reach deep inside and pull out the love,

Come on girl, it’s a new day have some fun,

Somebody told you something that was a lie.

I saw you dancing

I saw your skirts flying in the air,

Its your anger that I can not bear,

It leaves me empty, it just drains me.

Girl, take your angry woman suit off,

It don’t look good on you,

You’re beautiful today out in the sun,

Forget the story, remember how

It only about solutions, come on now.

I saw you dancing,

I saw your skits flying in the air,

It’s your anger that I cannot bear,

It leaves me empty, it just drains me.

 He told me that I had used too much dialect and hadn't really said what I wanted.  Here's what happened.

Sweet Mother, Release Me

By Amara Cudney

Her mouth opened and the atmosphere shattered

Jagged pieces of soul

Torn from bellies not yet

Pregnated, fertile and alive.

Just her teeth spayed across her lips

In an almost smile that wasn’t living.

Her hand holding the scotch,

 eyes dead from

Repetitive abuse,

 I let go of what I wanted to be

 where I wanted to go.

Those dreams floated in the gutters

By my street.

 I held the scotch and added a needle

 Trying to find the relief that wasn’t coming

It never came, not in musty hotel rooms, or at Pink Floyd concerts.,

Her words reflected in the blood I drew,

I cried for what would never be.

 I called for your help; help me

Your quizzical expression startled me as you reached for my hand

And held me in your heart,

I knew it wouldn’t be easy

I knew it wouldn’t happen quickly,

 I fought, climbed, surrendered

To something bigger than I was.

Forever held below the moon, spooned by Jupiter, cradled by Mars.

Now he wants me to take this version and turn it into a song. I'm actually feeling challenged and stoked about this.  I don't like doing stuff over and over but I like the results of being able to say things more clearly.