Rawr!!!

Sup 😎

In this week’s W3 challenge hosted on The Skeptic’s Kaddish, Suzette, the poet of the week, has asked us to Write: A) a haiku, OR: B) a tanka on the theme of “a favorite way to relax / unwind”. I like to unwind by playing my guitar, usually just noodling around, but that would not make a nice haiku. So, I’ve found my new favourite way to unwind… Shouting in a thunderstorm

Monsoon thunderstorm
My roars find their resonance
Ends with calm drizzle

(My old doctor has stopped practising… But good news!!! I went to a new one, who is really good. She’s considering reducing my Lamotrigine, after I told her it was making me dopey. She explained to me that I would never be able to get off my medication, though I was hoping that I could. I have never experienced extreme mania… I’ve reached around 8 on the 10 point scale. I swing more to the depressed side of the scale… She has asked me to chart my moods on a calendar, which I don’t know how to do. I don’t know how I’m feeling most of the time. 🤔😮‍💨)

Dance, Serpent! Dance!

Greetings friends,

In this week’s W3 challenge, hosted by the Skeptic’s Kaddish, Kerfe has asked us to write a halibun that contrasts past and present. I am not very familiar with writing halibuns, ( i think this is my third one, ever) but I gave it a shot. Here it is:

Every house in Kerala used to have a little space for snakes in their compounds, a small patch of wilderness. They called these places, ‘sarpa kavu.’ They say it was a Nair tradition, but we Syrian Christians used to have them as well. Clans intermingled and some traditions were passed around, maybe. These days, the sarpa kavu are hard to find, but you still find plenty of snakes if you know where and how to look. People construct their houses filling every square inch with cement. Cobras are spotted every now and then. Experts are called to catch them and release them into the wild. Some people don’t bother, and just kill the snakes.

On a concrete stage
Warm from the afternoon sun
King cobra dancing

[300 posts! Yay!!!]

I Reap What I Sow

My solitude has made me sick
There’s no one to lay my heart on
It’s always been I, me, and my
Would be nice to share this journey
But when I fall asleep… oh my!
The strange folk I meet in my dreams
If only I had that same will
During the day when I wander
To meet people and bond like this
Asleep I thrive, awake — desolate
But moonlight can’t help me grow my field

Sick on my journey
my dreams will wander
this desolate field –Matsuo Basho

旅に病んで　夢は枯野を　かけ廻るTabi ni yande/ Yume wa kareno wo/ Kakemeguru

For The Skeptic’s Kaddish

Ange’s prompt guidelines

Select a haiku written by someone other yourself;
Construct a “Golden Shovel” poem from that haiku.

Golden Shovel?

A golden shovel is a poetic form in which the last word of each line forms a second, pre-existing poem (or section thereof), to which the poet is paying homage.