Tag Archive | Haiku

The Butterfly’s Journey

Jul14


The poem below has been written for Carrot Ranch Double Ennead Monthly Poetry Challenge No. 5, conducted by Colleen. This challenge starts with the double ennead of 99 syllables reduced to 48 syllables to 24 syllables to finally, a haiku (12 syllable poem).

Double ennead (6/5/11/6/5)

The pale green butterfly

seeks a pale green leaf

wanting to spread his body on his shelter

fluttering his wings and

breathing the leaf’s scent.


Breathing in a way that

only the leaf hears.

His tiny chest heaves and falls to the music

of the dark, roaring sea

and his eyes quiver.


The butterfly travels

alone to his land

of hazy dreams where he drinks from pale flowers

that has a shade of green,

the leaf unaware.


48 syllable poem (3 stanzas 4-7-5)


Pale butterfly

spreads his body on the leaf

breathing in her scent


His chest rises

to the music of the sea

as his eyes quiver


Butterfly soars

in dreams and drinks from flowers

the leaf unaware


24 syllable poem (1 stanza 6-6-6)


Pale butterfly finds home

in leaf only to chase

his unfulfilled yearning


Haiku (12 syllable)


flailing summer

he leaves life

finds home in mirage

Unremembered

Mar4

I sit in the General Hospital, waiting for my turn when I hear a loud wailing. Expecting to see a child, I am shocked to see an elderly lady in a wheelchair, crying with her eyes tightly shut. I am deeply disturbed and could see that the other patients are uncomfortable too. This incident reminds me of an old cleaning lady in our condo whose eyes glistened as she told me how lonely she felt as her children and grandchildren lived far away. There is another instance of a man in our neighborhood who is dreadfully scared of dogs but has to walk his daughter’s dog, as she is too busy to do so. As I walk away from the hospital, I see an elderly man staring into space.

His treble

the language

of wrinkles

The Wooden Chair in CHO

Feb3

Hi Friends,

The Wooden Chair was the first haibun I had written. This was published in Contemporary Haibun Online’s July issue, 2013, Vol 9. Please find below.

My Wooden Chair

I stroll restlessly in my new house as trees outside are being chopped for construction. Lifeless new buildings are sprouting in the neighbourhood. I wonder mildly about deforestation as I lean back in my chair.

my wooden chair screeches–
memories of a
felled tree

Following the West Wind

Dec4

The west wind howls in the woods, uprooting plants, tossing their nuts, and bending powerful trees. The branches nod to the teasing wind as nesting songbirds hold tight until the wind sails away.

The west wind now pauses by the pink splendor of the woods. Mesmerized, it calms into a breeze and crawls over each stem.

As the pink flowers dance in delight, the breeze finds its way to a corner, resting on an undiscovered flower. The breeze melts into the flower, enchanted by its texture and fragrance.

west wind halts

to trace each pattern

in a pecan leaf

Hope

Aug13

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I stare at the ceiling, wondering if it is 1 or 2 PM. At the corner of the table is a kerosene lantern, not used for many years. I light it and walk into the night. The creatures of the night hush at the sound of footsteps, but the persistent buzz of a bee holds my attention. The bee hovers around a wild plant; an orange bud. The bud sleeps on, unheeding the bee’s buzz and noise. But, the bee does not give up. It sits on the leaves and bends towards the bud, shaking it. Suddenly, there is a loud hiss. It is not the bee, but the flower. It opens up to reveal a yellow inner part, further illuminated by the lamp. The bee moves home and rekindles in my heart the hope to live.

Dawn
orange bud blooms
baby’s first word