Butterfly on a String 

Reconciled

to write

as

I do

a

strange twist of fate

for

loving

you.

Embracing that

you

be elusive

yet

cling….

Like

a

butterfly

on

a

string.

You offer hope

as a candle

shining brightly

in a

darkened place.

Life

has not

been

kind

but

you’ve never been one to complain.

Always pushing forward

keeping

your priorities straight.

You….

whose

love

has risen

above the fray –

A truly quiet
and

gentle soul…

Lisa

is

her

name.

For Lisa

#butterflyonastring
#blackeagledream

All Rights Reserved

Copyright is mine 12/25/2017

Measured Lines _

image

Style is measured
in
increments
of
time.
Some people
write,
some people
rhyme.

A
writer,

a
storyteller,

a
keeper of dreams;

it
really
all
feels
the
same
with
me.

Words
are
the
boundary
lines
of
our
very
existence,
our
lives
measured
in
the
path
we
take.

Malcolm X knew,

image

Martin Luther King too.

image

When
we’ve gone
our
words
will
remain,
celebrated,
or
not.

So yes
write;
and
to
yourself
be
true,
yes
write
until
the
pen
does
bend,
and
the
warmth
of
the sun
is
not
felt
on
your
face
again,
any
more.

Link

Y>our Fears

Life
as a rule,

never
turns
out
the
way
we
hoped
it
to.

But if you live your life
with
clarity
and
purpose,
you
begin
to see.

Like
the
tolling
of the
bell
in
the
Square that calls to me.

In time

we
all
must
go
there,
to
embrace

our fragile humanity.

We
are
much
closer
to same

then

further apart,

depending
on
the types
of
seed
we
cultivate
in
our
heart,
the
source
of
all
y>our
fears.

#blackeagledream

All rights reserved. Copyright 2016

With You

Commit

to
yourself
to
be ever true
less
you be
misguided

from

the
essence

that
lies
within
you.

Depending
upon,

contractually
speaking,
and
in
consideration of;
the
height,
and
depth
of
your
love.

To grasp
the
vastness
of
what
Love is

and what it is not,

what
will be,
and
what
is taught.
What is
known,
and
can’t be bought.

Ever shifting
are the
dunes
of mankind;
unsteady
in
all his ways.

Wandering,
inside
your
head,

let
truth,

your
heart,

be fed,

and
let
the
possibilities,
begin
and
end;
with
you.

For Kameko.

All rights reserved.

Copyright 2015

#blackeagledream

Into One

image

Love weeps, blood seeps, yet the heart leaps from one desperate moment to another. It pants on to the end, an inescapable friend. When i look into your eyes it is then, and only then that i begin to grasp the mosaic of the mystery that is you.
How i do crave your body sweet;
as our bodies finally meet.
Like a flashpoint and a fire,
saturated with desire, and yes many
attempts were made, to pump those figurative brakes, but
as you can clearly see
deep inside i be; but leaving you high and dry never crossed my mind,
as i have no intention of being an honorable mention; as a lover who could not make the pretty lady sing. Falsetto tonight i bring, and it is you, and it is i, it is our souls that intertwine; as we merge our bodies and our longing into one.

The Chase

image

Through the eyes
of
many
I
often
do
see,
the
young
and
the
old
as they
clash
and do cling.

Chasing
things,

and calling
them
dreams.
But as time does go,

and
go
it will;

it is rare indeed
to
see fulfilled,
in those
who
in
these days
and
times;

who dare question

the
rhythm,
the
rhyme.

So live your life,
and
do
what
you
do;
but
don’t
sacrifice
the
ones
that
mean
the
most
to
you.

#blackeagledream

Kohala

image

O Kohala

the place that my grandma knew,

and her mom,

and her mom’s mom too.

Dense dark forest

filled with

hidden

meanings and mist;

crowd

my dreams

when I think of this.

The orange lava

of

Kilauea

glows brightly in the way.

image

Down

it

does

go

marching relentlessly

to the sea,

preparing for

an

epic battle

with

an

ancient enemy.

The

glow of fire

reflects

off

my eyes

as I beam at the marvel of creation….

image

But

alas,

it is

this…

Waimea

of

old

that I do miss,

yes longing

for

her

misty

morning kiss

to

caress me

in

her loving arms

once

again.

image

And

as time moves ever forward

and I continue

to fade

it is

in my mind

that I travel back and forth

each

and

every day;

sometimes as a boy

but most times as a man.

The years do pass – people don’t last,

as I continue

to cling

to a well worn

and

tattered dream.

What

does

it

all mean?

From the mountain
to

the

sea,

when

my

journey
is

complete;
in
Waipi’o Valley
is

where

I

will

sleep.

image

O Hawai’i nei,

embrace me

as

your native son

as

I

slumber

in your arms

until

that

promised day

has

come.

image

For my Grandmother, Annie Lincoln of Kohala, Hawai’i. I haven’t forgot you grandma.

Written by Kawika A Stafford

All rights reserved.

Copyright is Mine

#blackeagledream

When I Think of You

It was in the spring of 1983 when the two of us went our own way. 

It’s been a few years now

so I decided to write my say;

about a woman 

a person

a friend.


About someone I can never forget.  


Anchored by memories 

buried 

deep within my chest,

thoughts of her

her smile, 

the 

first day 

that we met.

It was the summer of 1982. 

She was twenty one, I was twenty two.

That face 

that spirit

that body 

that shine,

conversations shared 

over 

flower 

and 

wine. 

These are only some of the memories that I keep;

When I think

of you.  

Knowing 

reflecting

understanding 

still,

She was 

the

one person

that 

one

friend,  

She was the one that….

(yeah that one.)

A love that never mends,

a loss, 

a debt.

A check that was written 

but never cashed,

A flower that bloomed but didn’t last.

These are some of the things I think about… 

When I think of you….

End.

For Jackie

#blackeagledream

Copyright March 25, 2017

All Rights Reserved 

Unfolded Vanity

In

my face,
i
dare
see,

a lifetime

etched
in
glassy
blue
m
i
s
e
r
y.

How
it
is
reverberant

this loss,

this gain,

living
a
life
of
unfiltered
pain.

Down
i
do
go,
to the unmarked
place;

striving
for
things
that
have
no
face.

Happiness

and

Joy

i

have

met

once

or

twice,

hollow

words;

they seem real nice.

My
smile feigned,
sheltering
the
torrent
of
my
tears,

nicely

done

down

through

the

years.

With
my
mind
I
do
see,

everything

and

everyone

that

has

been

lost

to

me.

Ah,
the
unfolding
of
my
vanity.

Chasing
the
wind
in a
desperate
place,
happiness
itself
it
does
escape;
leaving
me
to
grasp
for
shards
of
solace;
in
a
life
of
unfulfilled
dreams.

I dedicate this piece to my coworker, and friend
Mr. Antonio Guevara, aka Tony G.

RIP TONY G… April 1st, 2016

#blackeagledream