hosts: Vidya Shankar & Shalini Pattabiraman
A Thursday Feature.
diaryDREAMS
29 August 2024
Prompt for members:
We all have that something we jotted down in our secret diary or in Notes on our phone or in our personal blog that we meant to fine tune into a haibun some day but never got round to doing it. Well, now's the time. Bring them out and share them here with us this week.
This is a no-prompt week, an open call, a free rein to your creativity.
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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!
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PLEASE NOTE:
1. Only two haibun per poet per prompt. Please put your name and country of residence under your poem, it makes the editors' work easier. Thanks.
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. When poets give suggestions and if you agree to them - post your final edited version on top of your original version.
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We are delighted to open the comment thread for you to share your unpublished haibun (within 300 words) to be considered for inclusion in the haikuKATHA monthly journal.
#2 - 2024-09-04
(original)
Lyrics of Silence
In the shade of the meadow, I think about how to capture the spirit of spring, although I am not sure if it is possible. It seems to me that nature comes alive and becomes more lush when I think about it.
What I'm trying to achieve is perhaps much more complex than it seems. I wonder if there are hidden paths that lead to the wisdom of the forest, or if the wisdom is buried in some jar deep in the earth.
This green is obviously not accidental. It is not only about the laws of nature and something divine, but also something mystical that needs to be known. Secrets of nature…
4.9.24 #1
Clod of Earth
A terracotta vase, I had bought at the Potter’s lane many years ago, still stands perched on my bookshelf. It is shaped like a woman’s face. The nose slightly chipped, is the only sign of the wear and tear, of all the houses we have moved. The large beautiful eyes may be that of the girl who played around, near the Potter’s wheel. They are eyes that observe and yet hold their peace. Now Alexa, sits on the same shelf, all eager for a chat, eager to tell.
expanding rim…
light streams in
through every crack
Feedback welcome
Post #1
3.9.24
meno (pause)
Today I muster the courage to ask her about it “ Mom, is everything fine? I can hear you cry at night.”
She turns around sweating profusely. “Darling daughter, look at my face all red, the scratch marks from all the itching and this feeling of nausea that refuses to go away”.
I stare at her totally blanked out.
“These are the hormones going away. Slowly all will be better.
“Can I do anything to help you ma?”I ask
“Yes, just be there for me “ she says giving my hand a tight squeeze.
faded sunlight
origami cranes get ready
to take flight
Feedback appreciated:)
Mona Bedi
India
#1
Straitjacket
Stop Stop Stop Stop
Welcome
Speed limit 30 km/hr
No horn zone
No right turn
No Parking
Clamping zone
EV charging zone
You are under CCTV surveillance
Wcrk in progress
Compulsory U-turn
Accident prone area!
Blow horn
bump
speed ahead
Left turn not free
stop look go
a single misteke…
dos and don’ts
the embedded colors
of my thoughts
Mohua Maulik, India
Feedback appreciated
Apologies if i have taken the prompt too literally :)
#2 leapfrog
once, you roamed the floor not by crawling, but by rolling, your chubby arms eagerly reaching for scattered toys that sparked your curiosity. you charted your course with ease, always eager for discovery.
now, at six, you count big numbers with the ease of a child twice your age. your mind is like a sponge, absorbing the complexities of arithmetic. as grandpa presents you with calculations, you spin round and round, your mind whirring with numbers. without needing a pencil, paper, or a board, you offer correct answers, leaving grandpa astonished.
"quiz me again!" you exclaim, craving more mental gymnastics.
sunlit prism—
a magpie's pirouette
paints the sky
the chessboard becomes your playground. your fingers hover over pieces, eyes…