Drinking my tea
Without sugar-
No difference.
it doesn't obey any of haiku rules and don't talk about Nature too.
Richard Wright (1908-1960), who was the author "Native Son" and Black Boy," wrote haiku during the last eighteen month of his life. He wrote around 4000 haiku. He followed the traditional rules of haiku. His Haiku are apolitical and talk about nature unlike his stories which speak about black Americans.
Some of his haiku are:
All right, You Sparrows;
The sun has set and you can now
Stop your chattering!
I am nobody:
A red sinking autumn sun
Took my name away.
With a twitching nose
A dog reads a telegram
On a wet tree trunk.
Lets come to mine :)
I am here trying to follow the rules of haiku which is formed by 5,7,5 syllables. In my haiku s i am trying to sketch old childhood days which i spent running into fields , playing around the band of Imphal river or simply watching Mutinao and Urit (a small bird of yellow and green color) hovering around bamboos in my backyard. And many dawn in which the Tillers headed for the field with their bullock cart commanding "Ar Ti Ti" to their bulls and bufalloes.
I am here trying NOT to be political unlike my other poems.
Summer Pray
The old man smoking
Under the old banyan tree
Praying to the rain
fruitful day
It was before dawn
I heard the buffaloes’ bell;
Season to harvest
I heard the buffaloes’ bell;
Season to harvest
Glittering Sand
The warmth of the sand,
As we crossed Imphal River,
We could sense in nude.
ride by the mountains
Sometimes in autumn
We rode our bicycle down
To highway for rose
December Morning
Bamboos are blooming
Birds are hovering around
Can it bring menace?
Across the field
In one cold winter
We, equipped with catapults
Scared the crows in field
leave the blues
We danced in moonlight
Forgetting the hardship days
With spring guarding us
shocked
After its daydream
The frog jumps out of the well
And it sees a hell
Superstition
The lovers elope
Astrologers suggest spring
But she is with child
A fight
One whole April night
My starvation wrote haiku
While they were eating
Haiku is Nature
Nature is haiku
And has become a danger
Why not write of it?
5 comments:
One fine day, Ronid cried
And dreams flatter in the midst
Yet, tears keep pouring.
I just cry
when they kill me
just dont know how to die
But a tilting grave
Yet not a spacious lie
Thus I refuse the die
hundred ways to die
but we chose the one
which will be remembered
not when you are young
but shouldn't care less a damn;
it's called promise.
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