Jocelyn Kapumealani Ng
Poem for Adorned
The ocean opens her mouth—
takes what we leave:
a bottle bruised by salt,
a net woven with silence,
the things that drift between tides,
waiting for eyes to see.
A child kneels in the sand,
cupping grains like prayers,
like offerings. She doesn’t know
what sleeps beneath—
the bones of coral, cracked,
plastic threads tangled in roots,
secrets the water whispers.
Hands arrive, reaching—
they belong to aunties, cousins,
to those who know the ocean’s breath.
They gather nets, their fingers pull
the veins from her body. They murmur,
Let’s begin again, let’s mend what’s broken.
Whole families bend to the shore,
backs turned to the sun.
Their hands sift through pieces,
through what the tide gave back.
In the child’s bucket, small things—
fragments like memories,
like promises stitched together.
She smiles, her eyes bright as foam.
Communities come—friends,
like the gods who watch over our islands,
moving as one. Their laughter swells,
and it feels like healing. They walk barefoot,
lifting what the sea cannot hold alone.
Someone begins to sing, the old song—
the one our grandmothers taught us,
and it rises, folding into the wind,
calling us closer.
In the canoes, they paddle out—
a line of hope, paddles dipping like wings.
Each stroke a prayer, each breath a promise.
The reefs light up under the care
of those who remember—
to love the ocean is to rebuild it.
Somewhere, scientists press coral fragments
back into place, like elders reweaving mats,
each stitch a note in our island song.
And the ocean feels it—
the weight lifted, the hands that know
her wounds, pressing gently.
Mothers whisper to daughters,
This ocean is yours, this is your inheritance.
And the daughters listen.
A canoe glides,
silent as dawn. The ocean rises—
not a wave, but a sigh, a breath:
Return. Gather what’s left.
Unravel the knots, let the sea breathe.
In the end, it’s the hands that matter—
the hands that heal, that hold.
A child walks the shore, each step
an echo, a promise:
to leave no mark but footprints,
to carry this world with care.
CREDITS:
Photography and Lighting in collaboration with: Bryan Kamaoli
Prints by: Kiʻikau Printers
Marine Debris from: Center of Marine Debris Research (CMDR) Oahu, Hawai’i
Portraits in collaboration and community with: Annalee Herrera, Bryan Kamaoli Kuwada, CJ Kee, D. Kealiʻi MacKenzie, No’u Revilla, Anjoli Roy, Nane Raass, Lyz Soto, Aiko Yamashiro
These photos were shown through the University of Hawaii Sea Grant’s “REFUSE REFUSE” exhibit at the Arts At Mark’s Garage.
Jocelyn Kapumealani Ng is a queer 3rd generation paniolo and multi-dimensional creative of Hawaiian, Chinese, Japanese and Portuguese descent. The fluidity of her art blends award winning spoken word poetry, special effects make-up, theater performance, photography and fabrication to navigate themes of queerness, indigenous culture, and underrepresented narratives.
Born and raised on the island of Oahu, she centers her work in collaboration. She is the 2025 inaugural Future Imaginaries of Indigenous AI Art Fellow. Her collaborative multimedia spoken word experience, “She Who Dies to Live”, was published in 2024 in, “An Ocean of Wonder: The Fantastic of the Pacific” (UH Press), performed at the 9th Asia Pacific Triennial of Contemporary Art in Brisbane (2019) and at the Smithsonian Asia Pacific American Center Culture Lan ‘Ae Kai in Honolulu (2017). As a member of the dynamic collective, Art25, their work has been featured exhibitions by the Smithsonian Asian Pacific Amercian Center, Ori Gallery, Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, Arts Research Center at UC Berkeley, and forthcoming projects with Delisted.
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