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  • Great Christmas Gift Idea for Tiki Lovers!

    Posted on December 2nd, 2009 "Tiki Chris" Pinto 4 comments

    The Parrot Talks in Chocolate

    The Life and Times of a Hawaiian Tiki Bar
    by Everette Peacock

    parrotcoverOnce in a while I come across a book that is well written, fun to read, and interesting enough to keep me turning the pages. The Parrot Talks In Chocolate is one of those gems, and if you like Tiki and Hawaiian culture, this book should go to the top of your list.

    What’s it about? From their site: “A mythical Hawaiian Tiki bar, and it’s eclectic patrons help tell the story of our young hero as he discovers love in the tropics. Tiwaka, the parrot, trades chocolate covered nuts for words of wisdom and watches the wild and often mystical adventures unfold. You’ll laugh, cry and insist on buying your plane tickets immediately, to Tiwaka’s Tiki Bar & Grill.”

    This story has the perfect balance of fact and fantasy, describing life in Hawaii in picturesque detail touched with a bit of magic. It’s light reading and fun, and really will make you wish you were there.

    Why am I hawking (or should I say, ‘parroting’) this book? Well, I’m not making any dough off of it. I just really dig it. It’s hard for a writer to break into the market, and when I find someone with this much talent I can’t help but try to give him a hand. There are so many mediocre writers out there (and some lousy ones) getting book deals that it’s only fair to help a real writer spread the word.

    You can order a signed copy of the book from the author, or you can get a discount through Amazon through the end of December (check out Tiwaka’s FaceBook Page here for the discount). Buy one for yourself, and a couple more as gifts. You won’t be disappointed, kids!

    Click here for The Parrot Talks in Chocolate home page.

  • The Last Reed

    Posted on June 24th, 2009 "Tiki Chris" Pinto 4 comments

    noir-detective-iconHere’s a little noir, 40’s style.

    So take a load off and read on…



    The Last Reed

    Rich in the night he slays,
    Dreaming, weeping.
    Echoing riffs through artificial valleys and alleys
    While torturing the living and the dead
    With his soul.

    Long sounds, blue tones bobbing on the moist city air,sax black on red bg
    Yesterday’s raindrops dancing dark with each.
    A run; 30 notes fly, brass demons taking their shot out of hell.
    No one notices.

    Lone, lonely he stands, back pressed rough against the cool brick,
    Beaten hat slid to the side and a pocket full of emptiness.
    His road is at its end, down to his last reed and last rites.
    Another fifty cents could get him a last drink, but that luxury is denied.

    Sorrowful lament in D minor, sixteen off-tempo bars ’til the last ghost note sways.
    His breath shallow, his fingers weak.
    One last wail into the darkness.
    Crescendo…sweet, high and red on black, his best ever,
    Desperately reaching out to a million ears.
    None will hear.
    With the final high G, the reed splits.
    And so does he.