I don’t just Hula
I don’t just Hula ;And prance around this pretty stage
Like a little brown ballerina; The palm trees taught my hips to sway,
I wear their leaves in my skirt; And flirt with sunlight like they do
With its oil on my skin; So that I not only move, I shine
Finely in the eyes of those; Who find my brown skin beautiful.
I have the ocean in my veins; And sunshine in my hair,
Playing in my curls,; And though I don’t have that cocoa blend
My ancestors did, Im a islander
And nobody can say that I’m not. I don’t just dance
To take my stance on a dashboard; I move to the rhythm you hear and I feel.
With my body, I translate my culture; So that you better understand
Where I come from; And what my side of the world is like,
With our little islands and big hearts; Where we sway and shake and stomp,
Passing along our traditions to our brothers & sisters ; And showing those who will watch
That we don’t just Hula .
Kaona - a love poem to a dying language
This poem, which styles itself as a love poem to a long forbidden indigenous language, i.e. Hawai’ian, is incredibly strong.
Too emotionally raw for this. So good.