big wind tanka – 1 June

this gale scudding
euphony in drink tin timpani 
fallen fruit donging 
palm frond door slamming yes yes 
hurry yes — dissonant air(s)

Image: Katsushika Hokusai, A sudden gust of wind from the 36 views of Mt Fuji series (it’s actually called View 18, Ejiri in Suruga Province) c. 1830.

A single big-breath tanka for you. And linked to Dverse, the poets pub – where Bjorn is hosting some dissonance.

And for music this morning, Sufi Afghani music from the Ahmad Sham Sufi Qawwali Group. (YouTubers) – Maybe start with Oh Desolate Flame

“The group have been performing for more than thirty years and is one of the most highly regarded qawwali groups in Afghanistan. Featuring an array of instruments rarely heard outside their homeland, the Ahmad Sham Sufi Qawwali Group are part of a vibrant musical tradition that stretches back more than 700 years. Banned from performing under the Taliban reign, these musicians now publicly reunite to present the healing and spiritual power of qawwali music to Afghanistan and the world.”

(This album from 2013, I don’t know the status of the group since the Taliban regime was reinstated in Afghanistan in 2021)

14 thoughts on “big wind tanka – 1 June

  1. I remember this image (or another in the series you wrote to) and good in vivo capture. The music sounds eerily similar to Native American music in their style of singing. Powerful juju. To me it is trance-inducing.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Captures succinctly the bellicose scatter of the big wind … that season is now nigh in the Northern Hemisphere. Here in the Gulf region of southeast USA, it’s like the start of the wildfire season elsewhere, laden with Anthropocene dread. Your image could serve as the region’s flag.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This tanka fair scuds along. We had similar ding-donging dissonances. I somehow doubt these musicians have found favour with the Taliban, but you never know, as long as there are no women in the group, they might pass.


  4. I love what you did here… that wind… it reminded me of a sentence from Bleak House with the wind rushing through a poor family’s cottage:

    He held under his arm, like a little bundle, a fragment of a fur cap; and as he tried
    to warm himself, he shook until the crazy door and window shook.

    Liked by 1 person

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