Joe Balaz Presents The Egghead Tsunami, Jeffrey Spearfishing, And Opening a Crab Like A Locket

HALF DOZEN DONUTS

I need some donuts.

How can I keep my opinions up

witout my half dozen donuts?

Virtually impossible.

To keep pace

I need wun sugar fix to fix da fix.

Yes, I’m responding

to da latest gossip around town.

Watevah it is

it needs addressing

cause deah’s new stuff

every adah day.

Da tsunami of comments

is ovahloading da ovahload.

From da idiot to da egghead

all kine viewpoints 

are going around

and I going add to everyting too.

Eh, I love to contribute,

cause I stay community oriented.

Wen all da stories circulate

sometimes up is down 

and down is up.

Consequently speaking

dis temporary rant is up too—

Dat is

until I visit da bakery

and finish my half dozen donuts.

SMALL KINE LUAU

If you saw Jeffrey

as wun young teenager wit his spear

at first you would wonder

wat he wuz doing.

He wuz wun tall skinny kid

walking around and looking down 

in all da cracks

of da rock formations

dat lined da beach at Papailoa

between da sand and da sea.

Da single head spear dat he wen use

had wun barb on top

and if he wen nail someting

most likely 

da ting wuzn’t going get away.

Jeffrey wuz searching

foa da many black island crabs

scurrying around

and hiding out

inside da cracks.

If you tink about it

dats not wun easy ting foa do

to catch crabs li’dat.

You figure every once awhile

you would hit someting

and maybe da ting 

would stay on your spear

but if you kept watching Jeffrey

you would notice

dat he wuz scoring moa often den not

wit each thrust among da rocks.

Da fact dat he wuz doing dat

since he wuz five years old

wuz probably da reason 

he wen perfect his special skill.

Jeffrey prided himself

in da payoff.

Wen da family got home

aftah spending da day at da beach

his maddah would take

da small bucket full of crabs

and she would wash ‘um 

in da kitchen sink.

Den wit her thumb

wit each crab 

she would flick open da top

like she wuz opening 

wun locket

foa put some salt inside.

Fast food Hawaiian style

wuz right deah

aftah Jeffrey’s maddah

wen get wun bowl of poi

from da refrigerator.

Just watching her eat

wit full on enjoyment

in da small kine luau

made Jeffrey’s 

crab hunting efforts

all da moa worth it.

luau     Hawaiian feast.

poi       Staple pudding-like food made from taro.

Joe Balaz writes in Hawaiian Islands Pidgin (Hawai’i Creole English)

and American English.  He is the author of Pidgin Eye, a book of poetry.

In July, 2020, Balaz was given the Elliot Cades Award for Literature as an Established Writer.  It is the most prestigious literary award given in

Hawai’i.  Balaz presently lives in Cleveland, Ohio.

Howie Good And Frida Kahlo's Bland Indifference Punctuated By Private Audie Murphy's Baby Face

SPLIT IMAGES 

Frida Kahlo, in a loose robe that allows for a glimpse of her breasts, poses against a background of fussy flowered wallpaper. In a further incongruity, she wears enticingly low on her hips the sort of cartridge belt a Mexican bandit would wear in a Hollywood Western and holds a six-shooter with both hands, the barrel of the gun pointing down like an arrow at her etcetera. The expression on her face is one of bland indifference, but her eyes are huge and round and stare darkly back at the viewer with justifiable suspicion.

                                                                      &

 The movie was called To Hell and Back. He played himself, Pvt. Audie Murphy, the most decorated soldier of World War II. On the screen, he single-handedly stormed blockhouses and machine-gun nests while lesser men cringed in foxholes or got hit by bullets and crumpled. I was only 8 when I saw the movie, but I remember it was in black and white, and that he was slight in build and had a baby face, making his battlefield exploits seem all the more heroic. Years would pass before I realized the guy sitting behind me who kept crossing and recrossing his legs and kicking the back of my seat would, in one fashion or another, always be there.

Howie Good is the author most recently of the poetry collection Gunmetal Sky (Thirty West Publishing).

J.D. Nelson With New Shoes For The Moon, Neil Armstrong Nomenclature, And The Coal-fired Goose Of The Warm Hark

sloak now

that lost angler west of the dream

why is there a lion in the clean air, floating?

we reshoed the moon that afternoon

a phantom sound

the milk was pink

the same earth bones

to sing the frog wind of the window

the creature needing the salt for the first time

to make a simple why

it was a cold box of the corn

the alien bread

a crawling crumb

one of those winning hands from the poker game

there exists a second moon

were you in the dust, rusting?

a slithering hush

not a real turtle, but a machine

the open earth opera

the sun was a friend of the other stars

the burd makes his home in the rocks

that faster “yes” from across the room

we named it after neil armstrong

the midnight yodel of yo-dell the decca (the right to warm a tortoise)

the hamlet of pigging

the plate of snouts

the coal-fired goose of the warm hark

now a blustery hum

a special effort to clone up

a non-pathetic choice of vegetable

a living being sporting the nacho pants

your gold luck was too good for the ghost

J. D. Nelson (b. 1971) experiments with words in his subterranean laboratory. His poetry has appeared in many small press publications, worldwide, since 2002. He is the author of several collections of poetry, including Cinderella City (The Red Ceilings Press, 2012). His poem, “to mask a little bird” was nominated for Best of the Net in 2021. Visit http://MadVerse.com for more information and links to his published work. Nelson lives in Colorado.