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I’d bleed bloody Indian ink
to be at your beck and call,
writing your vowel-shaped stories
into pure, poetic form
recounting
your pacific beauty, crown
among so many stolen jewels;
tallying your regalia’s inventory,
releasing its usurped perfume
cloak me in your moist, warm whispers
and stain my words
with your hibiscus wine
so that I may resurrect the sounds
of your sweet Hawaiian angel
caressing his tiny ukulele
against his sumo-sized, brilliant disguise
© by Jana Kalina.
Used with the author's permission.
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Jana Kalina was born in Bohemia (the Bohemian part of the Czech Republic) and lived a good portion of her childhood in Australia before coming to Canada. Her young adulthood was spent travelling and living in Europe. After obtaining degrees in Sociology, Psychology and Applied Communications, she worked as a freelance photographer, magazine feature article writer, and did some stints at a few newspapers. Since then, she has worked in social services and the educational system, as well as working as an independent editor. Jana's conversion to poetry was recent, rather sudden and complete. Good fortune has provided her with the opportunity to write poetry full time and she plans to start submitting work to publishers this year. Jana currently lives in Victoria, British Columbia, with a terrific husband and two wonderful — but uncooperative — wired-haired basset hounds.
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Jo:
So encouraging to see a late starter. I really like the poem, the imagery, the language. Thanks Jana.
I thought for sure you were Hawaiian. :)
Posted 01/23/2011 01:15 PM
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Joan L. Cannon:
So hopeful an example for others who, like Jana, have converted (if that's the word) to poetry late. Have you ever been to Hawaii?
Posted 01/23/2011 10:17 AM
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