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Bobby H.K. Richards

Honoka‘a, Hawaiʻi

Bobby H. K. Richards

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;

—William Butler Yeats

Bobby Hideo Kuahiwi Richards grew up on da rolling hills of Honoka‘a on the Hāmākua coast of Hawaiʻi as a Hawaiian, Japanese, Chinese, and Haole kid. But dis all changed wen he saw da birth stuff for his dad. Afta dat got more specific and found out dat he nevah even have Chinese and dat Haole was more den just one ting: it was German, Irish, Scottish, and English.

As a result of this, the theme and idea of identity influences some of his work; he tries to observe the mosaic that forms individuality.

Being terrible at speaking, the writing of stories and poetry is his preferred voice. Bobby finds inspiration in everything, from literature to insects to weird moments in life. He tries to write of such subjects with some responsibility as we have given weight to words by placing them upon a scale, endowing them with value. Knowing this, he acknowledges that writing then becomes a way for him to address and contribute to the present, that being the time of the reader's interaction with the work.

He also just writes for fun, 'cuz sometimes life is just too serious.

Excerpt from Making Waves

Dinner Rolls

Toasted rolls rest upon the platter,
anticipating the looming lather of butter.

Rather, I pierced two of the loaves with forks
and made them cabaret 'cross the counter.

The finely shaped silver legs kicked up and down
'til their shoes kicked off,

and flying went the buns into hot water.

Soggy saturated buns sloshed about,
As the points of the forks tink-link against the plate.




Photos courtesy of Bobby Richards

Mirror Mirror

The shattered mirror
Leaves a million reflections.
Not one of them mine.


The shattered mirror
Leaves a million reflections.


Paradise is here,
atop this concrete stairway.
Yet these stairs go nowhere.