Home in my pocket
Watch out
It’s got an alarm system
Gotcha!
Saving that jelly donut for later, dude!
Dave Wilson
waldomaui
For about 27 years my adult life has been enriched immeasurably by my friends and co-conspirators in the Maui Live Poets Society. It is through these exceptional folks that I've blossomed as a poet. Best of all, my loving wife Cindy Albers and I met through MLPS. Cindy--a truly accomplished writer and poet--and I both will be pounding out poems on our respective laptops here on the windward shore of Maui. (Already I feel the need for a nap.) Once again, thank you to Caitlin and Jacob and the other volunteers for this sterling opportunity! Good luck to us all! Big Group Hug, waldomaui (sometimes known as Bear)
Adulthood — Hour 18
Yes indeed I did it
Went to Denny’s Kihei for
the free Grand Slam on my birthday that year
Didn’t know anyone
Ken was gone
a friendship never to return
A sad-for-myself occasion
Sometimes a freebie comes with a big scoop
of humiliation
when anonymity would be preferred
but calories and sweets
can secretly console
FYI — Hour 17
VCR
Flip phone
Flo-bee
BetaMax
Segway left you a message on your answering machine
For Cindy — Hour 16
All my missteps and wrong turns
Disappointments and sunburns
are now kept in a box named thankfulness
for all of them conspired
for years (rather tired)
to bring me to you
and you to me
I couldn’t change a thing to risk a different outcome
no way
because I’ve got you
Finders Keepers!
Ultralight Training Flight– Hour 15
Imagine a simple lawn chair
Awning extended overhead off to the sides
Now imagine that this chair is magic and can take you anywhere you want to go
The bare frame lifts and turns
the propeller behind rocks us away from Giggle Hill
Shortly Armand and I are 1000 feet over Ho’okipa
birding above windsurfers
laboring against a steady trade
out over open water banking to a coral head
four hands on the control bar
then he told me over the headset to take it
to do a 360
I did (with some assistance)
The tail wind punched us back over Haiku
toward the pastured airstrip
Buffeted by updrafts rousting the gulch approach
he popped us across and back down
a goose landing on her feet we were
on grass once again*
*Even with my fear of heights I felt safe in this craft. The briefing included use of a safety feature–an explosive canister mounted behind the wing out of which two emergency chutes could deploy to provide a gentle-ish drop from the sky for aeronauts and craft..
JOJ (Just Off the Jet) — Hour 14
I was told 31 years ago:
If Mother Maui
wants you here
she’ll find a way
To Bed — Hour 13
I slowly crawl into bed
hold my breath
position myself on the diagonal
stretch the spine
rolling to the side
groan escaping
pain/relief of pain
it’s all one
the sighing
the grousing
the feeling both things at once is
odd
the word is
ecstasy
Into the Breach — Hour 12
Slow season got slower
a visitor named covid was
lurking unwanted
tourists were denied
they might be enablers of the dread
the humpbacks
on their own annual tour
dined on Alaskan krill
far from their winter playground
and were missed
a whale statue
dramatic
breaching
poignant
stood in Wailea
unnoticed
unadorned except for bird waste
and thus the man with the powerwasher
adorned as he was in body suit
and full-time job
powered the blue metal clean
carefully
soothingly
thoroughly
as if paid by the hour
for whose benefit I could not say
the whale perhaps a talisman of commerce
of things past and hopes of profit returning
a rabbit’s foot of faith
Leviathans that bring foot traffic are always welcome
The Crow’s Nest — Hour 11
It would require a contraption I would build
a see-saw like structure
very long on one end and very short and adjustably heavy on the other
after dark I would mount the swivel seat at the long end
and turn on the water valve
filling the stubby end with water
slowly slowly
my seat would rise
lift above the house
above the streetlights and treetops
towering above all notice
into to the high-up dark of night
where I could sit and dangle
recline under the stars
count moonbeams
visit with nightbirds
be king in
my own kingdom for a time
peaceful
unnoticed
until I tug the string and pull the plug tiny
let the water escape the assemblage slowly
channel happiness to the garden
water unwasted
released
restored to new purpose
as old as old bones
and I touch down
as a visitor to earth
don’t call me crazy
I will do it
I’m doing it now
My Mom — Hour 10
She wondered at baby birds
She recognized Nature as the source
knew the value of soil
and bugs
of picnics
and pussywillows
and gloried that bright summer night
to read the newspaper outside by
the light of the moon