Monday, 10 August 2009


stop pecking...listen--
temple bell !'.!'.



vijay said...

Even "she" couldnt
stop you
a prolific writer.

P. Venugopal said...

strike zen to understand the poetry in henpecking. try it, vijay.

extremity said...

and the woodpecker stopped for a moment and listened to the toll :)

P. Venugopal said...

yes. and only then did the woodpecker know its knock-knock pecking would come back echoing the wonderful way it did.

extremity said...

oh and the woodpecker wonders who is mimicking him ?? i got a funny image in mind of that wondering wood pecker..aradaa avide !!

P. Venugopal said...

sumi, that is haiku. the woodpecker pausing and taken by pleasant surprise his pecking should echo the sound of bell tolling...
we somehow got round to the 'aha' stage. it falls flat if the reader does not get there. how can the writer do the explaining too? that is the big difficulty. read Basho.

Gymnast said...

Ok..i guess i am not a very sensitive person. For these four lines didnt even seem like poetry to me.

Just four lines. Except i knew there has to be something philosophical and prolific about it and hence thought up few things.

I wonder if the stupid mundane world has absolutely blunted my sharp edges leaving me practically indifferent to the subtle.

Woodpecker , temple bell..


P. Venugopal said...

hello, friend gymnast. i am myself in self-doubt often about the worth of what i write. the great thing about the blog is i don't have to care about it. i can keep on experimenting how i can communicate moments of poetry that come to me once in a while.
this piece is also about the poetry of silence. if one goes on chattering, one cannot listen to the music around. the big problem about us all is that we are all deeply immersed in ourself. even when we talk with another person, we listen only to what we say. have you noticed this with people around you, may be even you yourself? come out, be silent, and listen. you might have heard about Gandhiji observing total silence on a particular day of the week. he knew.
haiku is a wonderful form of poetry, distilled simplicity. it needs the readers participation to click. don't judge haiku from what i write.
read this one by Basho, the master of this form of expression:

such fragrance--
from where,
which tree?

what do you get when you read it? don't memories come flooding? step out into a quiet december night, when 'pala' trees everywhere are in full bloom...from where, which tree, you will ask.

go beyond the words. haiku gives you just the key to open the doors of poetry within you yourself. only when it does that, is it of any worth. otherwise it is flat.

thank you for reading, wondering.

Balachandran V said...

To visualize such a scene one has to know what a woodpecker looks like, the way it flies, circles the tree, the way it cocks its head and its shrill call. Our alienation from nature is increasingly becoming unbridgeable. A superb poem, Venu!

kalpana said...

This one is too good Venuji....!