Hosts: Shalini Pattabiraman and Akila G.
25th August 2022
The fourth and the last haibun in this series featuring Marietta McGregor is again inspired by personal experience.
There but for fortune
Each time my father buys a lottery ticket he's certain he'll win. He always asks his number one sweetheart (me) to put some luck on it. My four-year-old self wants to make him happy. When he’s unemployed he slips into angry introspection, drinking and brooding about his awful desert war. So when he shows me his ticket I ball my small hand into a fist and dramatically open it, as if I’m showering the paper with diamonds plucked from mid-air. When Dad comes home disappointed yet again from the lottery office, I feel as if I’ve let him down. The same thing happens with the horse races, the gee-gees he calls them. On race days I give him a kiss for luck as he heads out the door. He never wins no matter how often he gambles, or how hard I wish.
did I only ever imagine you blue dragonfly
This week, I invite you to dip into your own childhood or teen years and borrow an experience to write about from memory.
I thank Marietta for sharing these amazing haibun with us so generously and offering much insight into her work and process through the haibun. Here's an additional haibun for you to enjoy.
About these haibun, Marietta writes, "'Souviens-toi' is also personal, but is based on my own observed documentary impressions rather than personally lived experience, although I did spend quite a bit of time at the tragic WWII martyred village of Oradour-sur-Glane. All four haibun are about memory, in some way."
As always, a good haibun will find its way into the next issue of our fabulous journal. Akila and I are eagerly looking forward to reading your haibun.
PLEASE NOTE:
1. Only two haibun per poet per prompt.
2. Share your best-polished pieces.
3. Please do not post something in a hurry or something you have just written. Let it simmer for a while.
4. When poets give suggestions and if you agree to them - post your final edited version on top of your original version.
5. Don't forget to give feedback on others' poems.
We are delighted to open the comment thread for you to share your unpublished haibun (within 300 words) to be considered for inclusion in the haikuKATHA monthly journal.
First Innings The doorbell rings thrice. Hurriedly we open our school books. He enters with samosas and jalebis. “Ah, my daughters are studying” he says proudly. We gather around the small dining table and gorge on the snacks. My sister cracks a joke and Dad’s infectious laughter fills the room.
morning haze
still the whisper
of a dream
Feedback appreciated :)
Revised-with final edit from Shalini -31st Aug
The Legacy
My mother in her crisp, printed saris won prizes at annual flower shows. I remember those gorgeous chrysanthemums pots, brimming with love and effort, that won her these accolades.
These days it is the family that continues this tradition. We meet annually to savour an array of pots in a stunning display of colour. My brother’s flowers are spectacular. In a single pot of button chrysanthemums, I have counted 509 heads! My daughter grows desert roses and cacti. I continue my trials into growing.
sunny days—
the seeds, they sprout
inside their packets
feedback is always welcome
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Updating the earlier post after input from Diana and Shalini -
feedback welcome 🙏🏻
What is to be will be
He would honk the horn exactly three times and park his scooter on the other side of the road. Eyes towards my building, he would take off his sunglasses and smile. The smile made me melt every time.
He would then pace on the sidewalk, pausing every once in a while to steal a glance at the building’s door. At times he would have to wait for hours before Smruti ran out to meet him on the carpet of crushed flowers.
summer breeze she keeps the window ajar
Beautiful haibun
Revised 3 (new title and haiku)
To the Sun and Back
My mother in her crisp, printed saris won prizes at annual flower shows. I remember those gorgeous chrysanthemums pots that won her these accolades.
These days it is the family that continues this tradition. We meet annually to savour an array of pots in a stunning display of colour. My brother’s flowers are spectacular. In a single pot of button chrysanthemums, I have counted 509 heads! The daughters grow desert roses and cacti. I continue my trials with flowers, herbs and vegetables.
tombola nights—
a win
for getting them right
feedback welcome @Shalini Pattabiraman @dianawebb46
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Revised 2 (input from Diana, Reid & Shalini)
Vernal Equinox
My…