I can give up all
but not my bellydancer’s holy dance
I can give up all
I can give up all
but not my bellydancer’s holy dance
Today’s Naughty Sunday Haiku prompt was found on Tumblr. I don’t know the details, but I have an idea some women drawing might. All traditional haiku forms apply to this challenge. 3 lines, or 1 line, and a haiku or senryu with imagery, or strong moment, without simile or metaphor. Dare yourselves to ‘paint’ this haiku and link it in the blue critter below! The challenge is only open till Monday afternoon Helsinki time, and opens Sunday morning, so make your seductive words count quickly!
Beaches don’t come much colder than Aberdeen beach, in the northwest of Scotland. But before people bustled onto planes to get drunk abroad, Aberdeen beach was a popular holiday destinations for hardy Aberdonians. They don’t make folk like that anymore. Nowadays, of course, none venture in such cold waters when their are holidays further south to be had.
Advances in technology have brought a fair amount of improvements to our lives, but for every action there is a reaction. Isn’t that the first law of Physics?
Our food is worse now, not better. Our health and fitness worse. The food is less nutritious, and there is much less variety of it, a little known fact. There are many less varieties of apples around than there used to be 50, or a 100 years ago, for example, as industrial production seeks the cheapest to produce, the farthest away. One day we will learn more by looking back, except that many of these varieties have disappeared, forever. In fact there are storage centres desperately being arranged and built in an effort to preserve seeds of disappearing varieties of foodstock. It is that bad.
Our ancestors never got to see and experience what we do, but not everything they believed and lived by was wrong. Our social fabric is torn. Today we have what has become the propagandist aggressive negativity of Feminism, for example, while before we had gentlemen, and decency towards women. Even, maybe, in Aberdeen!
Scottish Comedian Billy Connolly gives an account of Aberdeen beach in his particular style which gives a fair idea of Aberdeen beach – start at 4.40 mins for his account of swimming in Aberdeen.
And the emptiness of Aberdeen beach today…
loneliness by the sea
what is found over horizons
is found here too
there’s a place
in my past
that I passed by
with a smile
when I should have stopped
and taken that turning
perhaps then I would not
swatted like a fly
and instead I would have hovered above
like an eagle dressed as dove
pretended to care
for the welfare
of those with too much love
I would have worn fur coats
paid politicians to sit in my pockets
for my factories
and from my big fat car
I would always gaze afar
and learn to ignore
those polluted streets
but as I look back on that place
somewhere in the past
at a crossroads in my life
I’m still glad I chose me
even if they stole my dream, in those years in-between
For I still feel the taste of victory
despite it all
they never destroyed my home
me, never bombed in shock and awe
and instead just took my health
bit by bit
those criminal corporatist rich
and their itch
for more of what I do not have
And I’m still
Shaman haiku are a genre that I think have just been started at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai
Here’s what I think they feature:
flight of the eagle
stepping into the world of dreams -
a silent cry
The next haiku is by Ryan. Notice, and feel, the sudden jolted stop. Specifically matched to the increasing tempo. Then notice the sudden silence around you. It may be that I would be even more sparse with the words, dropping the ‘also’, but I did not think of, nor write, nor could write the haiku, so that is presumptuous and pretentious of me. Written by Bryan Ens.
the drum beats faster
while heart-rates increase also
sudden stop. peace
The third haiku was written by Asni. It is a pearl. Just look at that. The release. The eagle suddenly soaring. From where? From the reader momentarily? At what stage? Now read it again. Can you see other possibilities? Wonderful.
faster and faster
the beating of my heart …
an eagle’s cry
Now look at how Bjorn Rudberg composes a haibun, with a one line/17 syllable *American sentence* haiku at the conclusion. Notice how the readers ‘feels’ and ‘senses’ the haiku. Actually, that one line haiku is so full I think I should refrain from comment and just let you experience the sensations. But look at what Bjorn did, also, to build you to that moment; to set the scene.
At some point in our long trip I realize that, though the taiga looks much the same we have came so far into the east, that the train is the thin rope that still connects us to the familiarity of the west we know. We are divide from the forests and the big rivers only by the thin shell of the railway car. We live in bubble of western life but I still sense an unfamiliar taste in the tea from the samovar in the corridor. Like the breath from a dragon I feel the iciness of the air as I open the window to let the Siberian air replace the stale smell of cigarette smoke.
The air filled with drumbeats from a shaman’s skin smells like fresh pine needles
I think the connection to the wilderness of nature and spiritual nature of shamanism is clear in all four haiku, that seem to flow so well together in this new theme or genre. I will attempt mine now. I am quite confident I cannot match any of the four of the above.
under an eagle
I dance to the heart beat
of a shaman’s drum
The haiku is fine, but I am happy it shows, and really highlights, just how wonderful the four above are. http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.fi/
Shaman Woman by Ksenia Spanielf Savchenko
There should be no doors to a church
No nails to a cross on which a victim is hung
In order for us to chant a hymn
No priest in sacrilegious sacraments
No virgins to satisfy the inability of some
There should be no lord no saviour
Except a deep understanding of nature
No flock to follow
Deaf, blind and dumb
No teacups or mugs
With the picture of the pope
No creedence to the belief in any holy goat
No masses to join to whitewash any guilt
Stop believing someone from a fantasy they call history
Has a role for you
Spend a little time in the freedom of natural rhythms
Do not be tamed into becoming sheep
Do not be shamed, into becoming sheep
‘My own prescription for health is less paperwork and more running barefoot through the grass.’
‘Walking barefoot, also known as “earthing,” has gone from being a kooky counter-culture trend, to a scientifically-researched practice with a number of remarkable health advantages, such as increasing antioxidants, reducing inflammation, and improving sleep.
by Dr. Isaac Eliaz, respected author, lecturer, researcher, product formulator, and clinical practitioner. He has been a pioneer in the field of integrative medicine since the early 1980s. Dr. Eliaz is a frequent guest lecturer on integrative medical approaches to health, immune enhancement, and cancer prevention and treatment.
10- Blues. What was the world like before the invention of Blues? Impossible to conceive. BB King, Muddy Waters, Sonny Boy Williamson, Eric Clapton, Luther Allison, Taj Mahal, and so many more. You cannot breathe without blues man, how did they before?
9- Tea. In tea friendship, the Japanese saying goes, To say the least. What can’t you say about tea? There is everything in a cup of tea, best drunk in a papercup, or from a flask, or a glass, among friends, lovers, alone, in the morning, afternoon or at midnight. If the world stopped to have a cup of tea,…
8- Tango. The definition of sensuality. You do not use words to describe the tango. Everything is in the accordian and high heels. And inner thigh.
7- French. There is not a more evocative, beautiful language. Period. Granted, it is just a slang of Latin, but no French woman has ever paid for a copper bracelet in my shop, just saying, “bonjour!” guarantees it is free… The language is style itself. When I speak French my voice is in a different octave, and everything is more relaxed.
6- Politeness. The absence of politeness is like the absence of fresh air, or sunrise. When travelling to countries where people are very polite like Iran, where politeness is the culture, it is a sheer delight. Afterwards one misses it like a life without tea or blues.
5- Deserts. Like the tango. Words cannot describe a desert. Imagine an environment that changes a little bit everyday as sand dunes reveal new curves and lines , always warm, where you can sleep outside every night in a perfectly and naturally-cushioned bed, without any mosquitoes or flies. Sheer luxury. Desertification is much underrated..
4- Rain. Rain in the desert is like diamonds. But rain anywhere is beautiful. Rain separates parasites from those who want to enjoy life deeply. I have heard those who curse rain but expect beautifully orange carrots from their supermarket. The whole Bollywood film industry survives on that dance in the rain; rightly so. No-one should own an umbrella. Especially not the queen.
3- Fish n Chips. The royalty of food. None better. Served with tea. Tetleys. Malt vinegar a must. Big chips. You simply have not eaten if you have not had a decent fish supper. Better than any food in France, except a meal shared with my new French neighbour who recently got locked out of her flat, but that is a whole other delicious story.
2- Immigration. Imagine a country with only rednecks. With boiled or deeply-fried pork and overcooked potatoes, wishy washy music without soul, and racism as humour. No spice, zest or colour. Blond hair and blue eyes ruling, and nice high alcohol abuse.. Immigration has been the one overriding success of the modern era. I hate whiter than white countries, with suspiciously pure thoughts. The pilgrims were intolerant, ignorant people who would have all died off without native Indian help, There are those among us that revere religions from the Middle East , yet act as if the people from that area of the world are in some way inferior to “us”. Weird. Most don’t even know where the Middle East is: rednecks.
1- Trekking. There are still people who still drive their cars two blocks to drive cigarettes. Unbelievable. And that people still smoke is actually funny. Talk about sheep controlled by the corporate world. The tobacco stuffed into cigarettes bears little to no relation to the much milder tobacco smoked in the peace pipes my friends, it has been engineered to be much stronger, much more addictive with higher levels of tar, even the lite brands, which is compensated anyway with more chemicals. So buy a pair of canvas slippers and walk in a desert instead. Walk, for days, sleep at nights, through the desert sands. Glorious.
And now, just because…
I kiss her fingertips as she sits
hair and breasts undone
her belly warm to rays of sun
her neck, back, shiver to my lips,
though still she drinks in the verse,
her book open in front of her
while her thighs envelope my senses
I have no recipe only desire
that her needs be met
by every touch
as her thirst for the words
in front of her
Her nipples and dimple
in her smile
betray her gaze at the page
her eyes slightly glazed
still she tries
and sits still,
as I taste
with no recipe in mind
The attention she craves
as she sits by the window
as I walk by in the snow
is therapy to my creativity
and she knows
how much I admire
so lifts her arms
as the snowflakes drift
her eyes on her book
“So what is it?”
<<This story is officially interrupted to allow the writer to plead with his muse to put his brain back into his head, even in the state it is now in.>>
“Uuuh..a bit..how was I able to speak whe..?”
“Oh be quiet and finish, you have 50 words left.”
“Um, dearest, nicest, loveliest muse..you wouldn’t like to try another writer would you? There are plenty to choose from on Friday Fictioneers, they might really appreciate your help!”
“You don’t want me?”
“Oh I do, I do I do I do dearest muse, I just thought maybe…”
“Well, if any ask for me, then of course I would…”
“Dearest loveliest kindest Friday Fictioneer colleagues, would you be interested in……..?”
“What are you writing?……”
“Hola Christopher, where you been these days; it’s been a long, long time.”
“Ciao my friend, well, I been to the East Indies!”
“Oh don’ be crazy my friend, you know if you try to go there you’ll sail straight off the edge of the world!”
“Yeah, like you’d know; instead of sitting here in this taverno drinking vino, why don’t you try some tobacco!?”
“Tobacco, what’s that, some kind of new craze?”
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, my prize, something I designed, a likeness of one of my……previous…guests, here at my castle, by my own hands. Igor! The covering! Unveil it!”
“Uh, Count Dracula, sir, you’ll be wanting some rest, its getting early…”
“Igor! The cloth, pull! Oh I shall do it myself!”
A stunned silence from the Count meets the ripple of applause from selected guests.
“Igor! IGOR! Where is her flowing hair? How has your face been chiselled behind her like that?”
“I thought you might like it, Count, as a memento..me holding her head, ready for you to…”
“Igor! Shut-up, imbecile!”
Click on the photo to go to Friday Fictioneers – 100 word stories
Thank you to Claire Fuller for the Sculpture and photo