hosts: Shalini Pattabiraman & Vidya Shankar
mentor: Lorraine Haig
A Thursday Feature
10th October 2024
This month we have the pleasure of celebrating the work of Billie Dee.
Billie Dee is the former Poet Laureate of the U.S. National Library Service. A retired health care worker, she earned her doctorate at U.C. Irvine, completed post-graduate training at U.C. San Diego. Although she writes in a variety of genres, her primary focus is Japaniform poetry. A native Californian, she now lives in the Chihuahuan Desert with her family and a betta fish named Ramon. Billie publishes both online and off.
You can access Billie’s blog in the link attached below.
Website: www.billie-dee-haiku.blogspot.com
We bring to you her submission from the HPNC Contest held in 2023.
Billie Dee
Rattlesnake Canyon
That summer my first blood arrived
while I was camped in the woods
of Montana.
rainbow weather—
turning wet stones
for trout bait
I knew what it was, but still wondered
what sin against Nature had earned me
this curse. . .
thigh-deep
in the rush of snowmelt
empty creel
. . .like the little Kumari Devi,
expelled from her Nepalese palace
when she proved herself mortal.
this deep lull
of afternoon creek song
letting the hellgrammites go
First Place: San Francisco International Haibun Contest, 2023 Read the winning haibun and Read the winning haibun and judges commentary here.
Source: https://www.hpnc.org/2023-1
There is no doubt that Rattlesnake Canyon comes from a very special place. It is not one of those pieces that can emerge from one's imagination alone. The haiku in the poem are stunning and add depth to the emotional journey experienced by the speaker. Having read it blind for the HPNC Contest in 2023, I had been waiting for the opportunity to ask Billie to share some notes on her craft and process.
Here's Billie’s response to my question:
I usually begin with the haikai, then wait for further inspiration. Once the narrative starts to form in my mind, I take notes and do whatever research is necessary to flesh-out the facts and details. Most of my work is based on first-hand experience, often on deeply embedded, emotionally rich memories.
Like good cheese, I usually let a new poem age a while, then tinker with it until it’s ripe. So, a publishable haibun might take several years to evolve. My first draft of “Rattlesnake Canyon” is dated 2011 and comes from such an emotionally rich early memory. Since I came to haikai from contemporary “long-form” poetry, my narrative is sometimes lineated in stanzas. I like how that formatting looks on the page, especially with an embedded haikai sequence piece, or a braided haibun. The poem for example, is one where two seemingly unrelated stories are woven together using this device. It also seems to fit the dreamy adolescent voice I was aiming for.
Prompt:
Borrowing the structural bones from Billie’s haibun, this week, we will play and have some fun while writing. Do this task in one sitting. Then go for a long walk and when you come back, edit your piece. Submit only after you have let it rest between long and hard mundane tasks for at least two days.
Task: Select a book of fiction or creative non-fiction. Go to page 1 and pick the first dynamic word or expression from line 10. Then go to page 50 and find the name of a place and research one thing that is unique to that place. Use it in your haibun. Finally go to the last page and choose the ending word.
Your haibun should begin and end with these words and must do the following things:
Describe the first experience of reaching a milestone in your life
Add something contrary to your feelings
Link it with an observation from a different journey(the place or setting you selected from the book and the special thing it refers to)
PLEASE NOTE:
1. Only two haibun per poet per prompt.
2. Share your best-polished pieces.
3. Please do not post something in a hurry or something you have just written.
Let it simmer for a while.
4. Post your final edited version on top of your original verse.
5. Don't forget to give feedback on others' poems.
We are delighted to open the comment thread for you to share your unpublished haibun (within 300 words) to be considered for inclusion in haikuKATHA monthly journal.
Important: Since we're swamped with submissions, and our editors are only human, mistakes can happen. Please, please, remember to put your name, followed by your country, below each poem, even after revisions. It helps our editors; they won't have to type it in, saving them from potential typos. Thanks a ton!
#1
Under New Skies
The corridor hums
with a quiet I can't quite shake.
I come out of anesthesia's grip
relearning the rhythms of this body.
end of winter
a crow's footprints
erase themselves
I gather the loose edges of my gown
feeling the tug of stitches.
The nurse arrives silently
helping me dress and wheel me
to the hospital exit.
Light spills through the sliding glass
warming the edge of my skin.
discharge papers
a sparrow builds its nest
in the parking lot
In the garden
the statue of Meera Bai
stands in quiet devotion.
Her hands clasped in prayer
holding an ektara.
I hear the faint echo of her bhajans
in the wind.
first warm day
the scent…
Florence Heyhoe northern ireland
off the prompt critique please
Heaven’s gift
We meet for the first time on the island where she lives. We talk about poetry and song; having participated in both that afternoon. The following day I find her walking with her son and wiry dog. Wet and windy; I invite myself for coffee.
eider ducklings
in the harbour
a swooping gull
As she busies herself in the kitchen I look around trying to build up a picture of this woman. A guitar and violin hang on the wall and there is interesting art work dotted about. She talks about her mother and children, island life. Some locals have developed a defensive deafness.
tipping point
a volcano
spewing…
off prompt
Edit thanks to Shalini and Florence
Loss
#1
If I continue to draw flowers on this paper will they transfer into my world… My imagination soars like a bird on a weave of silk. The crayons press harder to the page. I do not want to hear this. I continue to blur the blue with the green, my eyes sting but I will not cry.
‘They have changed their mind. They want her back.’ I continue to shape a ball on the grass. The dog I always wanted laid waiting to play fetch. There is a blue sky, a bright sun and I am tickling her ears. ‘We will return her tomorrow to her…
#1
The Stories We Tell
"I don’t allow latecomers."
Feeling a thousand eyes upon her, she flushed and a lump clogged her throat. She couldn’t speak - her mother wasn’t well, her father didn’t want her to attend college, she had missed the bus….
“Ma’am! Is that a cockroach on the table…?”
The lecturer gave a shriek and the class dissolved in an uproar. She sidled into class unable to make out the face of her savior through clouding tears. But later, her giggling friends pointed him out.
She blushed when he picked up her pen and laughed the loudest when he cracked a joke. She dared to sit next to him and when squished…
I am floored by the brilliance of this haibun. Thank you for sharing it and also for the prompt. I hope, someday, to be able to rise to the challenge.