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TANKA TAKE HOME – 5 March, 2025 | poet of the month – Madhuri Pillai

Writer: Priti AisolaPriti Aisola

hosts: Firdaus Parvez, Kala Ramesh, Priti Aisola & Suraja Menon Roychowdhury

Introducing a new perspective to our Wednesday Feature!

poet of the month: Madhuri Pillai

 

ancient

revered and reviled

this gnarled tree

under its forgiving branches

i rest my earth years

 

(Whispersinthewind 333.blogspot)

 

darkening sky...

the smell of rain

before it rains

clinging to yesterday's dream

a dried branch on a birch tree

 

(Blithe spirit Vol 29 No.1)

 

this 

thirst for words...

again and again

searching for summer

in the winter of my mind

 

(Blithe Spirit, Vol.29 No.4)

 

Madhuri Pillai bio:

 

Madhuri Pillai was born in India, but she has lived in Australia for a major portion of her life. 

 

She is an English (Hons.) graduate and a journalist by profession. 

 

Reading and writing have always been her passion, and she is also an animal activist. 

 

Madhuri lives in Melbourne with her family which includes Rosie, her fur baby.

 

Prompt for this week:

What strikes one about Madhuri Pillai’s tanka is the simple words, the quiet, yet sensitive observation of nature’s forms and changing seasons, the deeply felt emotion that this observation kindles.

 

In the first tanka, the repetition of the ‘r’ sound had been artfully interwoven into the entire poem. After the first four lines, with their slow, measured pace, L 5 glides smoothly. This tanka is replete with adjectives, yet this accumulation of descriptive words doesn't seem contrived. Each reinforces the contrast between the tree's 'ancient', wise and shielding nature and the narrator's 'earth years'


We invite you to write tanka about your ‘thirst for words’, or quest for creative expression – the moments of frustration and deep fulfilment that go with it. Or, write about a search for sunnier times in a period of relative gloom and creative dormancy.

 

Give this idea some thought and share your tanka and tanka-prose with us here. Keep your senses open, observe things that happen around you and write. You can post tanka and tanka-prose outside this theme too.


PLEASE NOTE:

1. Post only one poem at a time.

2. Only two tanka and two tanka-prose per poet per prompt.

   Tanka art of course if you want to.

3. Share your best-polished pieces.

4. Please do not post something in a hurry or something you have just written. Let it

    simmer for a while.

5. Post your final edited version on top of your original verse.

6. Don't forget to give feedback on others' poems.


We are delighted to open the comment thread for you to share your unpublished tanka and tanka-prose (within 300 words) to be considered for inclusion in haikuKATHA monthly magazine.

 


 

286 Comments


#2 22-3-25 the tap spits

stale and muddy

be still

let the well

replenish


Cynthia Bale

Canada


Feedback welcome.

Like

#1 22-3-25

I don't want to be a poem

I hate you

the words shriek

I reply that's too bad

and smooth down their syllables Cynthia Bale Canada Feedback welcome.

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#1

11.3.25


flitting

from flower

to flower

hummingbird's round

a mala


barbara olmtak

The Netherlands


Feedback appreciated

Like
Replying to

I really love the image of the flowers as beads and the bird's flight the string connecting them. It's going to stick with me the next time I see a pollinator at work!

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mona bedi
mona bedi
Mar 11

Post #2

11.3.25


flowers sway

in the spring breeze

stay still … I tell them

as a swallowtail butterfly

perches on a daffodil


Mona Bedi

India


Feedback appreciated:)

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Replying to

I love the gentle futility of the narrator asking nature to stay still. Such a lovely moment.

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Mohua
Mohua
Mar 11

#1


Revised (Thanks Priti)


horns locked

deer thrash in the bush

struggling

to rise above

our endless bickerings


Mohua Maulik, India


Original


horns locked

deer thrash in the bush

struggling

to scribble a poem that escapes

the delete button


Mohua Maulik, India


Feedback appreciated.

Edited
Like
Replying to

I really like your revision, and hope you'll save the image of the delete button as something to be "escaped" for another poem, because even though it didn't fit in this poem, it's quite charming.

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