Staying in a city, one has almost forgotten the sight of people bathing in ponds at dawn. Reading this, there was a very strong image in my mind of my ancestral home in Calcutta. It was very close to a pond.
yet another ethereal scene.. i risk repeating myself.
I dont think the imagery jars. naked feet on stone steps has a subtle erotic suggestiveness about it. Waiting for your beloved on the steps, the mist and haze blessing you, keeping away the eyes of the profane.
No, this is not haiku, Workhard. The mood I had tried to capture, however, is that typical to the haiku, i think. Haiku goes in 5-7-5 syllables in three lines. What I have found reading Basho and a few other great haiku poets is that haiku is like a lightening of satori, a flash of revelation just like the momentary view of a sunlit Himalayan peak as the mist clears for a flash of second. It is there this moment and gone the next. I would have liked to write more, but I am pressed for time this moment and have to sign off. Thanks for reading.
10 comments:
a rush of images..a village beauty,wet clothes..but granite steps ??
Thanks, Sumi. You showed where it jarrs. Take a look at it again. Thanks once again.
Staying in a city, one has almost forgotten the sight of people bathing in ponds at dawn.
Reading this, there was a very strong image in my mind of my ancestral home in Calcutta. It was very close to a pond.
Thanks, Aparna for reading. Its nice to go bathing in a village pond once in a while at dawn in rainy monsoon.
:)
Is this HAIKU...
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yet another ethereal scene.. i risk repeating myself.
I dont think the imagery jars. naked feet on stone steps has a subtle erotic suggestiveness about it. Waiting for your beloved on the steps, the mist and haze blessing you, keeping away the eyes of the profane.
No, this is not haiku, Workhard. The mood I had tried to capture, however, is that typical to the haiku, i think.
Haiku goes in 5-7-5 syllables in three lines. What I have found reading Basho and a few other great haiku poets is that haiku is like a lightening of satori, a flash of revelation just like the momentary view of a sunlit Himalayan peak as the mist clears for a flash of second. It is there this moment and gone the next.
I would have liked to write more, but I am pressed for time this moment and have to sign off.
Thanks for reading.
Doctor Sab,
I think this is turning out to be a successful poem. It is bringing out more wonderful poetry in your mind than I had in mind. Smiles.
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