THE HAIBUN GALLERY: 7th August 2025. Padma Priya - Guest Poet
- Kala Ramesh
- 3 days ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
host: Rupa Anand
mentor: Lorraine Haig editors on haikuKATHA: Shalini Pattabiraman, Vidya Shankar, Firdaus Parvez and Kala Ramesh
Guest Poet: Padma Priya
A Thursday Feature
7th August 2025 -
THE HAIBUN GALLERY August 2025 Padma Priya
1st week:
Journeys
Waiting for my school bus under the old raintree, Selvi is oblivious to my sticking its pink blossoms into her hair. Narrating the plot of the latest Tamizh movie she watched, complete with dialogues and the opening lines of its songs is her idea of keeping me entertained.
becoming rainbows
As she waves to me I grin at the thought of how our housemaid would pluck the brush-like flowers sticking out of her daughter's well oiled, braided jet-black hair.
one by one by one
Back home, Amma chides me for my prank and insists I apologise. Halfway to their hut, I am met by a bounding Selvi waiting to run off to the park with me.
mountain streams
Anju Kishore
haikuKATHA, Issue 23, September 2023
Prompt
I started writing haibun recently, and a few of them were featured in haikuKATHA. When I was asked to co-edit the page for this month, I began reading haibun by various poets, along with articles on the form. The journey of exploring, understanding, and enjoying the diverse formats, techniques, and literary devices employed by different authors was an invigorating experience for me.
What I liked about the haibun by Anju Kishore was the way she used monoku in the haibun. The format looks fresh and crisp. The format becomes more interesting when we notice that a haiku is split into three monoku and quilted into the haibun. This format, known as braided haibun, brings a new lustre to the work.
The theme in the haibun is riveting. The simplicity of language shines as it focuses on the friendship between two children — their innocence and purity. They are fine with the prank—one takes it easily, while the other apologises for playing the prank with equal ease. A simple and beautiful interaction between children.
It made me wonder when and where that innocence is shed by people, and when ego takes root, playing bitter games in relationships.
Prompt:
1: Think of anything that fills your hearts with warmth and write about it. Cherished memories—friendship either at school, college, workplace, book clubs; or neighbours, family, people you met while travelling etc.
Prompt 2: Write a haibun with a minimum of three monoku interspersed in it, if possible a braided haibun. Check out the following link to know more about braided haibun.
https://contemporaryhaibunonline.com/cho-18-2-table-of-contents/plaiting-poem-prose-by-rich-youmans/
I eagerly anticipate your haibun.
Haibun outside the prompt is welcome too.
Thank you.
Padma Priya
<>
Thank you a lot Padma, for providing us with prompts for August 2025
_kala
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IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT NOTICE
NOTICE
Dear Haibuneers
Starting from March 2025, we at haikuKATHA are moving on to a new submissions format for haibun submissions. (Only for haibun, please note!)
Writers are invited to submit one unpublished haibun per submission window.
Kindly note the submissions calendar.
1-20 March, to be considered for publication in May
1-20 June, to be considered for publication in August
1-20 September, to be considered for publication in November
1-20 December, to be considered for publication in February
All accepted submissions will receive an email to confirm their acceptance by the 5th day of the publication month.
Your unpublished (only one) haibun should be sent to:
The Google link will be given in this space soon. This form will open only during the submission period.
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The Haibun Gallery continues as is.
We will be having editors and prompts, and your sharing…
Poem 2- 09/08/25
Old Lang Syne
We meet after fifty-five years.
i wonder who we’ve become
He remembers the treats I treated him to. I don’t.
our chatter cartwheels over beer and dim sums
That camaraderie of putting the first man on the moon.
schooldays spiralling into the future
Rupa Anand, New Delhi, India
feedback is welcome
is this working?
#2
There and Back Again
The carpet is full of swirls and colours, islands waiting for exploration. The in-between spaces are ocean. The boat is simply made with our arms rowing out across the wide expanse of the room. Intermittently one of us places a hand in the air as a sail to change course. We are in the shadow lands of a corner.
shearwaters adrift on a thermal
This is nighttime so we huddle closer and lean into the wind. I tease the homemade map from my pocket and we converse over where the treasure might be found.
a sail pulled towards starlight
X always marks the spot. We turn back toward the…
#2
Until the shadows grow into darkness
A summer cold turned into congestion. In the hillside park the rest of the neighborhood vacations elsewhere. I have brought a so-far unopened book of Persian poetry. There is no need to hurry. I imagine the soft ruffle of its thick hard-bound pages.
a background hum the shade dances
The lack of laughter, unmuted conversations, dogs unleashed running against regulations, is refreshing. My thoughts run a monologue as the silence listens. Until a bit of pollen swirls my way.
achoo a sudden fluttering
But still no singsong. It is as if the Extreme Heat Warning has sent them deep into the cool of a more dense canopy. Contentment coddles me. Yet something unexpected…
In Continuance
I don’t know why I come. But I do. Perhaps, it’s the twilight hush, the shadows I share with tall trees on the walking path.
a crow calls out
My feet find their purpose in swift strides. The old tamarind that housed barbets in its trunk is gone. In the rains the fermented scent of fallen tabebuia rises between my breaths, the birds are silent at this time except for the occasional chirp, flutter and flap! An August stillness emanates the air, seeping the soil, leaves, roots and stones.
through dense foliage
The cricket hum is deafening as silver-striped hawk moths circumambulate lamp lights. The fruit bats are silent. The new cell tower stands high and unlit in…
Edit, thanks to Alfred:
#1
Highlights
I am touched by this kindness. Her favourite colour passed for me to fill my page.
the way blossom dances an air kissed delight
My fingertips grip the plum point and I scrub dusk all over the mountain peaks.
starlings the way back to enchanted skies
A new friendship grows from a seedling.
window stars framing a dream
Joanna Ashwell
UK
Feedback welcome
#1
Highlights
I am touched by this kindness. Her favourite colour passed for me to fill my page.
the way blossom dances an air kissed delight
My fingertips grip the plum point and I scrub dusk all over…