Summing up the year (2014)

Casuarinas--

the sound of surf

settles

(Shiki kukai, december.2014)

...And with that, I end my abysmal run in the kukai contests this year. Even apart from the kukais, 2014 has been a disappointing year poetrywise.There has been the odd publication here and there, but by and large I've suffered from an inability to find the words I want to write and been too self-critical even when I wrote, and,...well, nothing has gone well really. I have the feeling that  things could only get better from here.

 Otherwise, I just might have to turn to writing "erasure" poems...that seems to be the hottest thing  around lately :-)

Wish you all the very best for the new year~

galaxy & hill temple

galaxy--
just a lily pond
will do

*****

hill temple . . .

our ascent

into the fog

Frogpond,37.3,autumn issue

one from Shiki kukai and Atlas Poetica issue 18

 nowhere-bound

the chatter of fallen leaves

at midnight

(Shiki kukai,May 2014)

And that reminds me ( though I don't know why this, the above, should remind me of that), of the October issue of Atlas Poetica, a tanka collection by Indian poets, where I also have had one tanka featured alongside many other friends.Many lovely poems in there...you can read it HERE.

brass bell :tea haiku

After "moon haiku", it's time for "tea haiku" at Brass bell haiku journal this month and trust me, you won't want to miss the brew,whether you are a tea-lover or coffee-drinker.There are quite a few lovely verses in there by poets who are well-known as well as newbies.A couple of mine are also featured there.
Do check out the November issue of this new journal by Zee Zahava here: Brass bell haiku

brass bell: moon haiku

Have you checked this new blog and haiku journal, brass bell by Zee Zahava? I just came across it a couple of months ago and have read three stunning issues since then. You can read it here.

In the latest issue this month, I also have had the following ku featured alongside many other fine poems.

crescent moon

fitting snugly

in the hammock

wheat ears

wheat ears--
the sunlight braided 

by the wind

(Haiku : Sanjuktaa Asopa , Art: Ron Moss)

My poem in the September issue of A Hundred Gourds that has been Sumi-e painted by Ron Moss.
Thank you, Ron Moss!

Haiga by Angelee Deodhar, Nocturne

 Haiga: Angelee Deodhar

Text: Sanjuktaa

Angelee Deodhar, the haiku poet and haiga artist from India, needs no introduction.She did this haiga for my haibun published in CHO (Contemporary Haibun Online) in June, 2014.
A big thank you, dear Angelee!

fragrant breeze

fragrant breeze--

my daughter unfolds

her bridal dress

Shiki Kukai, June 2014

abundance is...(6)

abundance is...(5)

abundance is...(4)

abundance is...(3)

abundance is... (2)

abundance is...

dreaming sky

dreaming sky...

a broken swing sunk

in the bluebells

(Indian kukai entry, May, 2014)

Paper boat and all night rain

 paper boat
big enough to hold
a dream or two

faintly
the sound of anklets
all night rain 

The Herons Nest, Vol XV.4, December 2013

Shiki kukai, April, 2014

abandoned barn--
one hundred years of solitude
and me

(April, 2014, free format
3rd place)

From A Hundred Gourds

A sparrow, a dandelion and the mist...from last year's A Hundred Gourds, issue 2.4.

sipping stale coffee the same sparrow as yesterday

even before i could wish you were gone dandelion

loneliness-

each peak wrapped

in its own mist

 Santoka says:

if I sell my rags
and buy some sake
will there still be loneliness... 

Santoka

January 2014 shiki kukai

 One more second place in my saga of endless second places! Sigh, sigh!

In the kigo section this one was the runner-up with 21 points behind Roberta beary at 23 points.

fingernail moon-

we share what's left of

the apple pie

In the Free format section, this ku received 14 points and was placed probably 7th.

the way

you play with my hair...

spring wind

January 2014 mindful writing, day 30

Curled up by the bay window, I listen to the shuffle of goat feet bringing dusk down the forest path.

January 2014 mindful writing, day 28

My bare, brown, bald lawn.
Will the crickets sing tonight?

January 2014 mindful writing, day 27

 A handkerchief sky  the breadth   of a bluebird's wings

January 2014 mindful writing, day 26

The wannabe PM. The ebb and flow of his voice.The shine of his promises. The crowd breaks into a loud applause every other minute.

day moon-

a giant balloon

in the sky

January 2014 mindful writing, day 25

Scent of cut grass. Tiny orange rosebuds. And an early-bird koel that has got its song all wrong.The weather is changing here.

January 2014 mindful writing, day 24

When everybody has gone to bed, my neighbour's balcony rails climb up my bedroom walls.

January 2014 mindful writing, day 23

I prepare his favorite dessert and serve it in a gleaming silver bowl. Then I put three basil leaves on top.

* In India,basil or tulsi leaves are put in dishes when food is being offered to God or a departed soul.

january mindful writing, day 22

yoga breath...

inhaling the warm sun,
the green
of the Eucalypt, the scent
of mulch on the forest floor

January 2014 mindful writing, day 21

At the park,children still queued up for a last tumble down the slide. The seniors, having finished their walks, are catching their breaths on the benches. Smell of over-ripe squashes from the vegetable-vendor's stall hangs in the air.The spring just around the corner...

January 2014 mindful writing, day 20

counting votes,
tallying scores...
poetry comes to a closed door

(January 2014 mindful writing, day 18 ) In Kat Creighton's memory

 The news that Kat Creighton , the haiku poet from Jersey, passed away two days ago, came as a shock this morning.

I had met Kat on the NaHaiWrimo site, when I joined it in 2011 and she had only been a Facebook friend, yet it feels like I had known her always.She was a wonderful poet and I had been a regular visitor to her blog, which features prominently here among my blogroll. Here is the last poem she posted on NaHaiWriMo on January 14th, the day before she died.

three quarter moon -
impossible to distinguish what is
from what isn't

Another one by her that I loved:

falling leaves

so many ways to count

our numbered days

Kat had been giving the prompts on NaHaiWriMo this month also, when one day she simply failed to turn up.

My  small stone today is in Kat's memory, based on the prompt given at NaHaiWriMo today .

are  there angels

...misty woods 

Rest in peace, Kat Creighton.I will always miss your voice.

January 2014 mindful writing challenge, day 17

Snuff-colored evening thick with smog and the long line of traffic moving sluggishly like the tail of some pre-historic animal. We sit slumped staring at the billboards.

January 2014 mindful writing, day 16

The red-whiskered bulbul discovers its soulmate in the mirror.All day long, it keeps coming back to peck at it a thousand times.

morning after...

a plastic cover thrown

over the bike

January mindful writing, day 15

Gunfire in the deep woods grinds the night into a gazillion grains.We stir in our beds uncomfortably. Another commando exercise.

January mindful writing, day 14

On this photo prompt by Kash Poet in the Facebook IN haiku group, I wrote the following lines.And then did the haiga below as well.

flying kites...

 the colours in my

inner sky

photo:Google images

photo:Google images

January mindful writing, day 13

  Thin gray morning mist tattooed here and there with the red and pink and mauve of the hibiscuses not yet fully in bloom. I don't even have to take off my glasses to imagine an impressionist painting.

January mindful writing, day 12

The camel that has paused outside our house under the almond tree to munch on its leaves and refuses to budge in spite of being goaded by its keeper, looks at me with desert-rimmed eyes.

January mindful writing, day 11

Money plant in a glass bottle. Some roots are to be flaunted and showcased.

January mindful writing, day 10

It only takes a few drops of whites to turn the amber into pale gold. Ah, my morning tea!








 To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/

January mindful writing, day 9

When the distant dog barks turn into a whimper and the lights in the high-rises begin to go off one by one; when the silence in the streets is broken only by the crackle of the walkie-talkies from the occasional patrolling police car; then the migrants and the pavement dwellers huddle around a fire in the street corner and talk about the village, the fields, the cattle that they left behind.

tar-black night...
who scattered those stars
by the roadside

                                                  

 To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/

January mindful writing, day 8

Shadows lengthening in the forest to my left, a sunlit window to my right.Yet I search for a poem in the cold white screen of a computer.









To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/

January mindful writing, day 7

A small stone is a short piece of writing
 (prose or poetry)that precisely captures
 a fully-engaged moment
Satya Robyn

To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/

A rejection is a rejection is a rejection. Yet I get into a battle of words with the editor when he rejects my work with the comment, "they aren’t that bad”! Ouch, that hurts! When I protest, he says, “not that bad” only means that they need some more revision; according to him, had he said, “not that good”, that would have meant they are really bad.This new line of thought floors me. I want to argue more... being at the receiving end of a rejection is never a good feeling... but I stop myself. What’s the point?

late afternoon

the lime green of the meadow

stains the skyline

January mindful writing, day 6

The tiny green birds chastise the squirrel loud and long, probably for stealing eggs from their nests.The squirrel stares back defiantly. I peep through a gap in the curtains.

afternoon class -

the foreign tongue

I always wanted to learn




To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/

January mindful writing, day 5

A crescent moon low over the plastic chairs stacked on top of one another.A pineapple wedge still stuck on the rim of the empty glass.The walk back to the parked car is long and the path wobbles dangerously.








A small stone is a short piece of writing
 (prose or poetry)that precisely captures
 a fully-engaged moment
Satya Robyn

To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/

January mindful writing, day 4

Opening the window a crack at dawn, the earth, fog-wrapped, still asleep. A chill breeze that finds its way in, scatters the sharp red scent of the apples on the corner stand. I slip back under the covers again.







A small stone is a short piece of writing
 (prose or poetry)that precisely captures
 a fully-engaged moment
Satya Robyn

January 2014 mindful writing , day 1

"A small stone is a short piece of writing (prose or poetry) that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment.
 

Satya Robyn

Every year I await January eagerly for this experience of mindful writing challenge to begin. And like every year, this year too, I am not sure if I'll be able to complete it.Yet here is my first unsure step, my first imperfect stone of the year.

New Year's dawn
yellow poui trees line

an empty street