When my dreams start affecting my days....i write a bunch of haikus. #haiku #poemsporn #poemsofinstagram #poetry #poemgasm https://www.instagram.com/p/Brud47GgKmF/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=9nnq3yqeleoa

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@thebeasteats
When my dreams start affecting my days....i write a bunch of haikus. #haiku #poemsporn #poemsofinstagram #poetry #poemgasm https://www.instagram.com/p/Brud47GgKmF/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=9nnq3yqeleoa

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Yo this noodle spot kills the fuckin game!!! That its owned by my popz is no surprise, long time game slayer! #JoyCup #NoodlesMean #chinesefood #realchinesefood @texasgroove https://www.instagram.com/p/BrbKXy5Aiy2/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=60iy2lukasf9
When yall roll mob deep for your kids recital and craft day and everyone gets a kid to work with hahaha #lunalilo #craftday #recital #kids #dad #bestauntever #bestdadever #bestgrandma #christmas https://www.instagram.com/p/BrbLJzEgHHQ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1u4ou8y4g72im
Training through boredom and not rewarding bad behavior with any attention hahahaha #alohadog #doggytraining #senorgoodboy #boomerang #dogsofinstagram #dogoftheday #hawaiidogs https://www.instagram.com/p/BrbJzbDg9qm/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=oz6ttnesavfj
Much love @jpcalismoov for giving away some of my books at his performance for youth last night, discussing mental health and utilizing hip hop as a therapeutic tool to navigate through these trials and tribulations of life. I am SO PROUD OF ALL YOU DO! Love you always! #untoldunheardunwritten https://www.instagram.com/p/BrbKNQugHBR/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=swnsr44kc862

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Tonight All thats on my mind is the electricty my tongue feels every time I graze It against the wood Would it be possible to explore The grains of your sandpaper love, on nights I want to be spread thin Rubbed smooth Lose my train of thoughts As your fingers lay down Their trackmarks Up and down my limbs Crossroads and lost souls often Have a way of making homes of each other. So uncross my legs and take the long road home. Undress me slow. Let lips travel the way thoughts have. I want your hands to traverse my body like they are charting their own map. I want your espresso eyes to wake up, shake up all my atoms until I realize why Eve couldn't help but take..a..bite Tonight... I want my thighs to be tattooed with your teeth I want my back to look like our story written in sanskrit, I want my breasts to feel your temperate breath I want my legs wrapped around your hips I want to feel you everywhere Until the bliss of nothingness exists Because everytime I think of you In the racy hours after dusk I feel my bones shake with lust Your breath against my neck And remember just how electrifying A gods touch is.. . #Persephone #hades #godcomplex #poetry #poetrycommunity #cultivatedfool #poetryofinstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/BrKj-FGgcgx/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=50voz56jvp1t
Tell me what it was like to taste freedom Quenched in the teeth full of pomegranate What was it like to be a woman instead of daughter? I know what they say about men like me âThe misunderstood will be your unbecomingâ But when you asked me to touch you To loosen you of your petals and taste the sweet ambrosia I remembered what heaven was like your milk and honey pooling into the ravines of my mouth Thirsting after your name They way my throne looks so becoming when your bones and flesh nestle into its nooks out of necessity Your eyes craving a kingdom to call your own. I knew you loved the taste of power. So I gave you the only title worthy of you Queen of Iron The way you made men and women shake and stutter like the leaves of fall always marks the season of your arrival. You are the only thing about Earth and Heaven that matters. You are how I am reminded of seasons in this silent darkness. When I can see the Sun in your hairâŚyour violet eyes shaking all of its color out of existence to make room for the harvest of color your mother gave you, taste the heaven in the valley of your mountains⌠I imagine, that is the closest thing to freedom I will ever taste #godslove #hades #godcomplex #goddess #Persephone #poetryofinstagram #poetry #poems #poem https://www.instagram.com/p/BrEhUDfgahj/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=oseuziuzcrf6
He said, "I want to breathe your fire water," Silly boy, don't you know how many men left their bones out to dry waiting for me to come? #hestia #greekmythology #poetryofinstagram #poetryporn https://www.instagram.com/p/BrCc0FagFqQ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=djwit5jkrgwr
When you're tyna get your dog hype to match the energy of the room. #ThisIsSparta #Sparta #AssasinsCreedOdessy #dogsofinstagram #whenyourdogmeetsyouattheexacttoneyoumeetthem #wtfhasmylifebecome https://www.instagram.com/p/Bq1eUxzASi8/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1hbktzl40ynmw
Another day in the beautiful Hawaii Nei #midstudyhike #takeabreak #hikingwithdogs #hiking #hikingadventures #boomerang #lifewithdogs #hawaiidogs #dogsofinstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/Bq1dScGg_d-/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=3siqtl7mn8ob

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Sometimes joy means you have to be an archaeologist and an astronomer rolled into one. Sometimes you gotta dig deeper. Sometimes you have to see farther.
Alysia Harris - âJoyâ (via buttonpoetry)
Burgers N Things - The Fall of A Kingdom
Once upon a time, we had a joint that focused on the splendor of burger-dom and all itâs fancy possibilities! This small hole-in-the-wall has flourished from itâs humble beginnings in Pauoa years ago, as it sits comfortably in the concrete jungle of Downtown Honolulu now called âBurgers on Bishop.âÂ
 I remember the first time I happened upon this place, craving a mouth-watering burger (per pregnancy cravings). Snug between the Pali highway and a Wooâs Chinese restaurant the comic-book-come-to-live-diner was wall to wall with all of the timeless classics of Marvel and DC alike. The chefs were wearing Superman and Wonder Woman apronâs. Wafting through the air like a beautiful orchestra of bacon, garlic, and buttery pretzel buns, a pool of water gathered in my mouth in eager anticipation of holding one of these beauties like Simba over the Pride Rock colored countertop.Â
Although I could have given birth in the length of time it took to receive my food I was easily distracted by the hilarious company of their staff and Chef Ernestoâs random in-and-out of the kitchen with sampler items for us to try. Then it came. It was MORE than I could have ever hoped or wished for. Having ordered their âlipsâmacânâ burger (âjuicyâ burger topped with a truffle mac and cheese, lettuce, tomato) with their âdrunken goat cheeseâ, fried jalepenos, and rosemary bacon, topped with a buttery pretzel bun; paired with a side of their ceasar salad and waffle garlic fries, I couldnât believe what I set my eyes on. I imagine if sex had a taste, this would be it. If there was a human version of this burger than I would probably have sex with them too.Â
In a confused daze as to why I was turned on by the sight of food and what to do with this ethical dilemma, I thought it best to eat -- cuz âAshley ainât the same when sheâs hungry.â As I ate this âMurica meal, I realized this would be the death of me. The. Sweetest. Death. Today, I was saddened to drive to the old location and see itâs moved into a greater palace of glass and steel downtown. Still a place for royal feasting, theyâve also begun catering to large parties and events. There is a different vibe there now, one not as laid-back, but thatâs the price of a blooming business. Itâs kind of like when the Good King dies and his son, born of incest and blue-blooded, took over.Â
One day, when I am brave enough to battle the waves of human and vehicular traffic, I may try to give âBurgers on Bishopâ a try -- but until then, I will be mourning the fall of a kingdom.Â
RIPÂ
Detention Youth Go Vegetarian
As many of you know, I work at correctional facility for youth, teaching English, Communications, and Culinary Arts. âIf you donât know well know you know.â (Notorious B.I.G) For the few months we (Ili, Kai and I) have been introducing vegetarianism amongst students, with their quarterly project being the opening of their very own âVegetarian Restaurantâ. We began with juicing, going over the benefits and losses of utilizing a âtastierâ option for ingesting the proper amount of vitamins. As one can expect, some of their responses were the following, âMiss -- this taste like shit. I wouldnât do this outside,â or âDen what miss we supposed to do this and clean emâ up everytime -- f dat,â or my personal favorite, âThis looks like Trumpâs skin -- this dakine white manâs drink. Lazy.â Okay, the last one may not be expected -- but it was definitely an appropriate analogy for the carrot/cucumber/apple combo.Â
Based on their responses however, I challenged them to reconsider the way they see the food theyâre eating. I introduced Immortal Techinqueâs âPhilosophy of Povertyâ and Jedi Mind Trickâs âOne for the Killingâ, two underground âconsciousâ hip-hop artists that discuss the parallelisms between Big Companies, cancer-inducing GMOs and food products, as well as the detrimental nature of eating steroid pumped meat. But how? After the class period ended, I had 15 minutes to plan a poetry workshop based around this idea alone. When they came back, I blasted the room with some hip-hop instrumentals and on the board wrote, Food; Tradition; War. I had the students map out ideas that tied along to those themes and wrote the following, âAs long as there is drugs in my hands and spam in my stomach -- we are at war.â With 10 minutes to write, my students went HARD on their papers. Their work was incredible. My students were on some real, philosophical ish son! They spoke on conspiracies linking the Government, Big Pharmaceuticals and Fast Food industries, how that tied to the Welfare system and how the Hawaiian and Asian diets are products of colonialism and war. Impressed? Hell yeah. Shocked? Nah. My students are sociological thugs and we talk about politics often, and how they impact our day-to-day and the lives of People of Color (POC).Â
So what the hell does this have to do with going vegetarian? Well weâre starting a revolution son! Our students want to do more research into their current diets and spin a vegetarian dish. We started our garden last year and âdem fakkahs is boominâ as my students would say. After discussing what they wanted to eat vs. what they regularly do -- we finalized with Chicken Parmesan with Pasta and a salad. Our twist was an eggplant parmesan with zuchinni noodles.Â
We separated the modules, one focusing on salad and the other on the eggplant Parmesan. As our kids âremoved the foreskinâ from the phallic-shaped vegetables (Dorianâs words, not mine.) we talked about the different colors, shapes and âfeelsâ between organic and conventional versions (yes, we cooked both). The organic eggplant shaved clean to a Madagascar gecko green while the gmo version was a Japanese-Empress ivory. Throughout they asked if we were gonna cook both. Some argued we shouldnât if we donât want cancer, others said we shouldnât waste the food, and finally the other teachers chimed in âwe already bought em, cannot waste.â Which is understandable but it begged me to question what we are teaching them about power, access, and food and whether or not we could really create this âfood revolutionâ. Then the young men bathed them in the battered peppered-egg mix and pressed them into Italian breadcrumbs. I took this time to talk about when I moved to the South and learned to make fried chicken and how this was similar. As they moved toward the fry pans, popping with a slow sizzle of oils, I told them to âlisten for the rainâ ask they cook. If it sounds like thunder and lightening, turn the heat down. It should âsound like a steady and gentle rainfall over a metal roof in Kahaluu.â They cooked it to perfection. Then they moved onto making the zucchini noodles using a spiralizer, of course while making comments on the horrifying nature of a female using this same item on their private parts if they ever cheated on them. The creativity they impose on these young girls is hilarious and worrisome. Nonetheless, as the water came to a cauldron like witchcraft boil, we blanched the noodles until they âbent like whisky dickâ (their words, not mine) and didnât âsnapped in half like the backs of our enemiesâ (my words, not theirs). As the noodles bathed themselves to al dente perfection, we drained them in the sink. Using the same pot, we added butter, lemon, minced garlic, salt and pepper and listened to the aroma dance itself out of the pot. We added the noodles and let it bask in the melodic greatness of flavor we created as the eggplants were in the oven awaiting the cheese to melt all over its armored flesh.Â
The results? Doper than meth and tastier than getting out of jail and into the bed of your lover. Their vote? âHell ya miss -- I could be vegetarian if it taste laddaht!â Impressed? Yes. Shocked?
 Nah.Â
BIG NEWS
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#TheBeastEats
Ashley Nakanishi is an Okinawan foodie seeking to explore and discover international food dishes! First blog to come:
Sunset at âSunriseâ Restaurant The Real âCameltoeâ: Eating tips for Morocco What The âFrogâ? How to survive the French Countryside

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The main thing, when a sword cuts into oneâs soul, is to keep a calm gaze, lose no blood, accept the coldness of the sword with the coldness of a stone. By means of the stab, after the stab, become invulnerable.
Franz Kafka, The Blue Octavo Notebooks (via minuty)
And Another
I told him yes, chasing all of my fears into the gallows of my mouth where they'd hang off my lips like a last goodbye, or a freedom song. The moment fear and pride come together like a boycott. My heart has been bruised, my mind has been broken and put together so many times I've become a mosaic of poor decisions. Your hand grazed over the scars on my skin like they belonged to you and to my surprise, I didn't flinch. My neck fell to your palm like a prayer and For that moment I understood salvation. With our backs against the wall, I fell under the impression we would tear them down together and brick by brick rebuild a safeguard around our personal fortress. Your arms became the moat around my hips, your shoulders and my thoughts are a perfect fit and when you put your forefinger under my chin, I wonder where you've been my entire life... We sat under the beating sun on the dirty sands of maui and watched the matson loads come in, mocked the clouds and endured the painful sting of fresh rain on dehydrated skin How that pinprick of your kiss, changed the forecast of my thoughts It was clear with not one cloud of doubt that i knew I had to hold on just a bit longer, like you were the only chance to live. I'm not saying I'm in love, But that I might give it a chance again. I'm not saying I'm in love But that I'll give a chance to let you in. And this is my cordial invitation.