As I watch the azure breakers

of the Pacific dance back and forth at a high tide,

I remember home far away in Alabama,

thinking of Martha, Ophelia

and my other Cherokee ancestors.

Known as forest dwellers

their souls and spirits resided in the hills and valleys

where they listened to the wind

and deciphered conversations

with the pine trees.

What did the Cherokee do,

this largely powerful literate

southeastern tribe

of seven clans

and matrilineal descent?

Did they go to the ocean,

did they ever see it?

Watch it?

Mediate and pray on it?

It is said they danced, fasted, feasted,

observed the taboos

bathed in ritual purification,

maintained a perpetual fire

of unity.

For centuries the arts of beading,

creating of esoteric mandalas,

mythologies, a literature, a written language,

and schools all prospered

What did

the olf talking chiefs

think about

and discuss at their councils

The revered Raven controlled

the affairs of the village –

But did he listen to his own wisdom?

Women could distinguish themselves

and be heard,

but by whom?

What did they imagine

when the rapids roared?

Did they hear

prophetic voices in the music

of the creeks, brooks, and mighty currents,

foreboding of lost paradigms

promises of transformations,

and diluted survivals?

Cherokee ancestors –

farmers, hunters, and spiritual people,

forced from their lands

by encroachment, laws, and broken treaties,

isolated on a journey of trailing tears.

-Kathryn Takara (New and Collected Poems)

Clouds Gather

Momentary circle of blue

bursts through gathering clouds

as the wind fades then returns

like the voices of summer crickets

surfing through sun and shade.

We sit still

on the fine white sand

at Mālaekahana

watching the changing sky.

-Kathryn Takara (New and Collected Poems)


Sun scrolls attention

In an unpredictably silent performance.

The third eye twitches with new possibilities.

A phoenix in me courts ancestral memories.

Venerated ancient leaders

Confucius, Plato, Gandhi, King

Acclaimed poets, prophets, teachers

Laozi, Du Fu, Rumi, Whitman.

Shadows of greatness

Fly and fall on a canvas of radiant light.

Intuitive recognition of shimmering moments

Deciphered, by whose standards?

Churches, temples, mosques

Show perennial hope.

Sacred texts promise eternal life.

Meditative messages transmit

Treasured instructions.

-Kathryn Waddell Takara (Footprints Wings Phantasms)




Flying over, wandering natural

Abstract soul-travel in a dream state

I’s soar with fertile inspiration.

Shifting scales, recovered lineage

Expanding to alternative visions

To escape frantic disassociations.

Night ripples the sphere of exhaustion

While the moon’s silver blanket

Heals the soul.

Double awareness fades in andantedreams.

Psychological practice grows transformative:

Shakespeare, JungGurdjieffOuspensky.

Rise, float above the world’s stage.

Visualize below—

Windows, doors, people diverse

In costumed dreams

Enticing, repelling, hiding.

Open, close, dismember reality.

Wake up!


Perspectives rise and sink.

Phantasms shift out of time.

-Kathryn Takara (Footprints Wings Phantasms)



Is there a dignified exit

From the labyrinth of life?

Remorse floats just beneath the thin skin of age.

Sincerity struggles: save self.

Enlighten conscience to forgiveness.

Individuation swallows the other.

Broken wings lack support.

Imagine an escape.

Expose procrastination.

Dig up abandoned aims.

Mend wings still weak with indecision.

Reconstruct the incomplete flight plan.

Correct disability of clipped wings.

Use reliable glue.

Follow ancient migrations, proven pathways.

Soar toward wholeness of Truth.

Seek the patterns of heaven.

Fly again toward salvation.

Fallible humans

We fail, fall back to earth.

Why bother?

What is a real exit?

How much are wings mendable?

-Kathryn Takara (Footprints Wings Phantasms)




Protected on Mama’s lap

I crossed the highway at Green’s Fork

Tuskegee, Alabama.

I witnessed fiery clannish rites

Mob mentality, rituals of terror.

I listened to Mama’s voice

Heard her inspired intention

Reading me stories, fairy tales, verses

Comfortable on her favorite

Periwinkle blue upholstered chair.

Observing clear echoes of long-ago cultures

Mama educated her child

Explained fables, legends, myths—

Ali Baba, Aladdin, Scheherazade

Along with flawed leaders

Cleopatra, Hatshepsut, Solomon,

As well as goddesses and gods

Isis, Shiva, Shango

And lessons of great teachers

Jesus, Mohammad, Buddha, and more.

Mama taught protocols.

Enter in the eastern door, exit in the west

Honor the guest, respect others

Absorb wisdom, promote agency

Sitting on Mama’s lap, I learned to stay strong

Seek vibrancy, and healing change

Engage in learning, fly toward puzzling stars.

So much to remember and value!

Her instruction in my early youth

Mostly unrecognized, now cherished.

-Kathrym Takara (Footprints Wings Phantasms)



At twilight

I’m falling, spiraling

From spirit-sky orbs

Toward the aesthetic ocean.

The stinging hot coastline

Reflects the crimson phoenix in my heart

Evoking pentatonic symphonies

And a desire for magical connections.

Bewitched by moon music

All night I dance in sapphire circles

Beside shadowy lakes and rivers

Twinkling hypnotic on cooling shores

Until the gradually coming aurora

Ever reflecting timeless orbs

Borrows light from father sun

Extinguishes mother moon.

The heavenly orbs astound:

Never the same rising

Never forgotten

Never abandoning life.

-Kathryn Takara (Footprints Wings Phantasms)


Mirror Flower, Water Moon

A bright copper coin in an indigo sky

The harvest moon reflects in my eyes.

In the cloudy mirror of me

I glimpse a shadow

Obliterated by the black face of night.

Ninety-six laws of confusion

Choke, blur, and blind transformation.

The muted moon is a beautiful woman, Astarte.

Her bare shoulders glimmer.

In the watery mirror of light

Her nipples pose erect

Under her bolero blouse.

She illuminates the garden within

Finds magic

In the soft swinging skirt of palm trees.

Lunar light turns, dims, eats organic life

Attracts the attention of the dark ones.

The water moon feeds on the lunatic fringe

So says the esoteric legend of the werewolf.


Contact Me:, (808)228-1630, P.O. Box 678 Ka’a’awa HI 96730,



Who is the desert swimmer?

From windows stuck closed

By sand and old paint

Emanates a cacophony

Barely decipherable tones.

Who is playing a piano behind a dirty window?

Who is playing a guitar’s seventh chord?

An interval inevitably appears

Silencing noisy confusion.

The mysterious enneagram offers answers

Symbol of evolution

Geometry of time and body types.

Surrounding the Earth Mother

Math and physics whisper

Future sonatas and requiems:

Life and fertility

Death and resurrection

Rites of passage

Sterile sands.

Dormant date seeds on the edge of an oasis

Are surrounded by drought

Where all is naught

When timelessness is everything

In the golden desert of questions.


A butterfly on the east wind wafts naturally

Attends a stunning sunrise

Invites celestial inspiration.

I sit and visualize

Gifts and harmonies of the morning

Contemplate the unexpected

Flight of a peacock to the rooftop

Countless mejiro in the avocado trees

And two `iwa birds circling over the Pali cliffs.

I chant affirmations of gratitude.

Love dances, dips, and lifts

Around the periphery of heartbeats

Rises above the soul-feast:

Paradise of meum teum nostrum.

Come out and support us at the Paliku Arts Festival. I’ll be performing 12:30 – 2:00 with Sequoia Brown. Hale Palanakila, Rm. 224

Click the link below for the flyer with further information

FINAL_Liza KT Climate Arts Poster-PRINT (4) – Copy



Falling from the sky

Diving into the Sahara

Where earth cradles desert

With four directions, four winds

Even four seasons . . . sometimes.

Crashing from the fiery west

Falling into watery identity

I fill with metallic fears

Another wounded swimmer

With cold skin, burning breath

Balancing yin and yang.

Called to silvery green islands

Challenging courage, I rise, I fly.

Trouble in Paradise by Kathryn Waddell Takara

Trouble in Paradise

Hawai`i the Big Island

Trouble in paradise

Halema`uma`u Crater, Pele, the fire goddess’s legendary abode

at 56,000 feet above depressed ocean  floor.

Pele’s awakening, fiery red and passionate

Surprising the volcanologists, geologists, scientists, tourists

The ecosystems shaken, Nature, communities

Pele births alerts, eruptions, explosions

24 steaming fissures appearing , daily changing. cracking the earth

exhaling sizzling sulfur

destroying paradisiacal dreams of peaceful living

and calm seductive waters

Pele is the powerful Fire Goddess familiar in Puna and beyond

She is the nemisis of her sister

sweet, beautiful Hi`iaka, ikapoliopele

kind, compassionate, loyal, and loving

to all who know or meet her.

Madame Pele reigns immortal

coughs up to her magic

devours  forests of trees

communities of individualists

organic life,  the lives of Hawaiians

and occasional anarchists, mistrustful or hiding from the US government

(which nonetheless tries to understand and remedy the growing loss).

Paradoxically Pele exhales destruction

The growing eruptions, the new earth, the fountaining magnitude of lava!

Pele inhales deep magma.

The magical alchemy of  re-creation.

Konch Magazine Interview with Kathryn Waddell Takara by Ishmael Reed

Please Click Link To See Full Episode

Books for sale, $12.95 plus postage. Click on “To Order” page.

Book signing party in October at Arts at Mark’s Garage. Details later.

preview (1)


Press Release Img

Click the link below to view the Press Release in PDF form

Press Release PDF

Another poem in my forthcoming book entitled Footprints Wings PhantasmsDue to be published in late May.

 Mama's Lap capture

A poem in my forthcoming book entitled Footprints Wings Phantasms.

Capture 1

Holiday SALE!!!


Email to order.  Limited time only

Win A Chance To Be Published!

Poetry • Africana & Ethnic Literature   •  Human Rights  •  Politics  • Memoir •  Cultural & Oral History  •  Blacks in Hawai`i  •  Your Chance to be Published, your voice matters


“Where writing transforms…”

Our President and Publisher, Kathryn Waddell Takara, PhD, holds a BA in French from Tufts/Jackson University, an MA in French from UC Berkeley and a PhD in Political Science from the University of Hawaii. She also holds certificates from the University of Bordeaux in French and Peking University in Mandarin.

Her accomplishments are multiple and varied over her long career of teaching cultural and ethnic studies, writing, public service, and travel.

For more information on Kathryn Takara visit:



1 thought on “Aloha”

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