READ SOME EXCERPTS FROM WOLF! A COLLECTION OF DIRTY LITTLE WORDS
Note: For the full impact of the typographic art, please refer to the print edition or the e-book edition.

INTRODUCTION

Someone once told me that in order to live life fully, one must get one’s heart broken as often and as deeply as one could. And during the healing process, the worst thing to do is to allow oneself to harden.

It is thus that I have lived my life – raw, unapologetic, and open – and I am ever grateful for the richness I have been allowed.

From my home state of Hawai`i to California, to the woods and towns of Georgia, to the cobblestone pathways of Bordeaux and Paris, I have been fortunate enough to meet good people who have affected me in grand ways. Sometimes, these people have been mere fleeting presences. More often than not, I have been the one fleeing.

WOLF! has been a selfish journey that has allowed me to open wide everything I held back. For a long time, I allowed these words to incubate and to simmer, until I felt it time to finally release them.

To you, reader, my sincerest thanks for allowing me into your life and in your mind. My hope is that in some small way, one or more of these poems will spark something inside you, and perhaps will encourage you to pick up pen to paper and allow the words to flow, too.

Live bravely, and give back often,
Rian Kekoa Padua


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"An Older Man"
(page 1)

I imagine my life as an older man
not just old
but older
with enough years behind me
that I may easily shed my pride
and allow Youth to assist me
with everyday tasks
that once came easily

perhaps kind Youth will hold open
the heavy mall door for me
as I hobble slowly by with cane in hand
I'd tip my hat and nod my head
as I say Thank You
and really mean those two words

maybe Youth would be so kind
as to call every once in a while
or pay a visit
I should like that very much I'd say
when asked if it would be okay
to stop by sometime later on today
yes
I would like that very much

I would like to think
that Youth would take me out to eat
on my birthday
to try a new food from
somewhere I've not been
yet

it would be grand
to be surrounded by the family of Youth
the spouse and children
would be such wonderful company
and a great indulgence
for an older man like me
who spends my time in solitude
save for pen and ink

it would be my duty
as an older man
to pass on the stories and ideals
of my generation
to tell Youth of our times when
Youth wore a different face
a face that looked remarkably
like my own

I would tell Youth
of Life's humour and irony
and what it is like to experience
the shift from spring to fall
how summer is a time
we must relish and enjoy
so take it slow
so take
it
slow

I'd say
watch the Youth around you
and witness its growth
for when you do you'll know
that you are growing too
and one day your Youthful torch
will be passed on to someone else
leaving you but glowing embers
of what was once there

and I would hope
most of all
that Youth would be present
at my bedside as I breathe
the breaths I know will be my last
to hold my hand
with the reassurance that
all is well and ready
for my departure



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"Don't Ask"
(page 12)

no
it wasn't good for me
so please don't ask
you lacked not the
energy I sought
nor were you short of my
expectations from the start
in fact
I expected nothing from you
so I was not at all
disappointed
when you lived up
to my first impressions



* * * * * * * *


"Stranger"
(page 30)

hello stranger
I forgive you for what
you will do
I will take from you
your smile your kindness
and evolving praise
I will keep your
happy face locked away
and stranger
I will take from you
any guilt or sentiment
you have towards me
I will toss any strings
we have linking us
to one another
so that none will know
the evils you do
the deeds I know
the love we shared for years
and more
I will erase every morning
we woke in each other's embrace
I will forget the way
you breathed my name
the way you loved me every day
I will forget you



* * * * * * * *


"Speak Softly"
(page 44)

don't be fooled by your
judging voice
don't waste time by
wasting time perusing beauty mags
and workout mags
searching for perfection only to
end up inadequate and lonely
don't be drawn to
superficial siren songs
drenched in power chords and
beating drums
brought to you by the makers
of a rival backyard band
don't fall prey to the lures
of lines and rolls of night time recreation
made to fill the void for
hours at a time
don't fall in love for too long
but fall often
and get up stronger each
time you choose to fall again

and if you choose
to fall for me
and fall for me
you'd best be strong
of self of will of mind of faith
in us and you
and not be taken with
chemical bliss or swayed
by siren songs filled with Loud
brought to you by those who
make you clones for profit
set the pretty mags aside
and calm your search for
perfect skin and sculpted abs
and let your judgements
pass like evening stars
and speak softly
softer
words of love that you
yourself believe
before trying to
convince me



* * * * * * * *


"Romantic"
(page 55)

he buys me chocolates
from Ohio
wrapped in red and white cellophane
tied with that curling ribbon
used on birthdays

the flowers are
from the grocery store
down the street
I saw the same bouquet there
yesterday

he pours me red wine
over ice
and serves it to me on the sofa
where he has pushed aside
a magazine to make room

his eyes are bright
smile is pure
and shoulders square and straight
a faint hint of four-dollar
aftershave lingers on his skin

I think I love him



* * * * * * * *


"With a Mouth"
(page 62)

to take him
with only a mouth
and a slippery tongue
is empowering

lips wrapped tightly around
his pride and pleasure
working every vein of him
into the back of the tunnel

he wiggles he squiggles
it tickles the throat
to feel the head get bigger
inside the vacuum

in the wet he feels safe
and his only concern is
focusing on that mouth
that lovely sucking mouth

knowing at any second
the teeth might bare



* * * * * * * *


"When My Leaves Turn Brown"
(page 66)

when my leaves turn brown
my edges will curl to a
dry crispness
I will make more noise
without intending to
I'll just happen
to crackle that way

and it will feel so grand
to embrace autumn as such
after seasons of
golds and green

I will feel so into my skin
that I will scarcely notice
my leaves falling
silently
to my feet
with each passing day

my sap will dry out and
flow slower
as my branches droop
lower
and lower

time will show in the
once-fine lines
now etched deeper into my trunk
and I will shower the earth
with my seed

if the world is kind
and the wind is right
perhaps I'll grow
another tree or two

I think I will

I think I might



* * * * * * * *


BACKGROUND ON WOLF!
(page 68)

When I began writing the poems in this collection, I was in my later teens and early twenties; I needed an outlet that would allow me to lavish attention on myself, something I wasn’t used to doing at the time.

As a child, I lived many years in fear, having had to endure daily physical abuse. When I was finally able to break free from it, I took in the wonders of the world with eagerness and a ferocity I couldn’t describe. I allowed myself to be open, and I threw away the armour I had cultivated so well in my younger years. Then, just before I began writing these poems, I was sexually assaulted, and I kept it hidden for a long time. My lowest point was when I called a rape crisis hotline, and the woman on the phone said she didn’t know how to deal with me because I wasn’t a girl. She hung up the phone, and I crawled deep into my shell. I turned numb and began to make increasingly foolish decisions. Drugs and drinking took prominence, and, eventually, I took to picking up businessmen at hotel lobbies, restaurants, and bars for an evening and a few bucks to help cover my habits. Night after night, I thought I was being such a big shot.

When I realised I was on a dark road, I retreated and grew fat to hide myself from the world; I even wore numerous layers of clothing, a hat, and sunglasses so that no part of my skin would show. I focused on my education in the visual arts, and on painting, and then took a job in a field that allowed me to hide behind a computer monitor, where I never had to be seen. The only thing that mattered was the work I was producing.

The poetry I was writing was intimate and vulnerable, completely opposite the angry and volatile façade I wore daily. Poetry saved my life. It allowed me to work through my rage, fear, and distrust to get to a point of self-forgiveness, and then, later, to a place where I could teach myself how to love every aspect of my being, and how to love others.

WOLF! was completely selfish when it was written; it is no longer this way. In learning to understand myself, I am now able to understand and appreciate others more fully; because at the end of our days, all we really have are memories of how we have been treated, and of how we have treated others.


* * * * * * * *

The above poetry and text is © 2004 & 2008 by the author. They are excerpts from the book WOLF! A Collection of Dirty Little Words, by Rian Kekoa Padua, available for purchase at BraveCreativity.com.

TYPOGRAPHIC POETRY SERIES: UPCOMING BOOKS

BOOK TWO: The feedback I've received for WOLF! has been tremendous, and I'm currently in the design phase of the second book in the typographic poetry series. It's inspired by my year spent with amnesia - the result of a car accident in 2007. For twelve months, my brain could not create new memories, similar to the main character in the film "Memento." It was a terrifying experience, and people were not always kind. I am fortunate to have had the opportunity to see the world differently. Every night, my journal kept filling up with more and more pages of my handwriting, none of which I could remember writing. Book two gathers together these forgotten pages and presents it with fresh typography and design. COMING IN SPRING 2009

BOOK THREE: Book three was actually supposed to be the second book, but the amnesia concept was so powerful that it had to be released next. This third installment of the typographic poetry series picks up where WOLF! left off: up to the hilt with sensual energy. This book is a hot, smouldering beach read for poetry and typography enthusiasts. COMING IN FALL 2009

SEND ME A LETTER - I'D LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU

R. Padua
P.O. Box 1539
Garden Grove, CA 92842-1539