Wow! Marlene, that was amazing and it made sense. Sounded like one of the word battles that my friends and I have. :D

Funny, Drekinn! I'm reading this, but I just can't get any written. Too much work and too little time here and my brain's dead with heat. :(

truck with Coke,
thirsty drivers curse,
irony.

Sorry again! Actually, I'm not.  :lol:

It's another single word gauntlet. So who'll come up with a three-word Haiku?

Ah... i did think it was rather simple. There had to be a catch. :) Your new one is funny Jon, and in the same vein, may I submit a modification with a pun I couldn't resist- :)

**                       Monsoon
            Brooding, grey skies,
    Thunderheads gather strength,
The earth longing with parched intent,
                    Wet dreams.**

                             :D

                  Monsoon,
             Brooding skies,
Thunderhead gathering strength,
    The parched earth longing,
                Life returns.

Ok, Jon. Here's mine. It's an interesting write, and I hope it's come out all right.

Does the last line always have two words?

Hanevi

sunbathing?
perhaps sunburning
is more apt...

:D Sorry for the tough one.

lake of cool blue wet:
tantalizing my fevered
imagination

Thanks Drekinn. I'm still trying to see how far I can go without either dic or thes, but I suspect a whilte flag day coming soon. :D

I won't be online tomorrow. Important meeting. (No, I'm not going to be fired for being on Rosity during work hours :) ...I have a great team who keep encouraging creativity as long as the rest of the work is done).

Thanks Jon! It's not a daily thing on the bus, thank God, but it's often enough to be bad. Thanks for the comment on the prose; I really need to get out of writing only descriptive prose, but I find it easier to write poetry, so I guess I'm still discovering myself.

Hey Marlene, it's so good to see your post! Your writing has depth and imagery that stops one for a second look. It's very good. I like the lines:

'Granite buildings gleam and glisten,
as if shedding the daily efforts spent therein.'

There's much depth in your brevity, so it's very good to read and think about. :)

Best wishes all, Hanevi.

street paved by hot slabs,
wrapped in summer's dragon breath,
my vision shimmers

Thanks, and yours is really good. :)

I'll be offline for the weekend. Keep the posting going guys. :) have a great weekend all!

Whew! Just made it!

That was a true story, by the way. Happened about ten days ago. And it was much worse than I've described it. I got tired of writing... :( ... But it's the first bit of prose I've written in a long time, so that's been good. :)

I really liked your tongue in cheek little story with its acid edge satire so well-cloaked in humour, Jon, and I hope you make it in time Margana. I'm sure your stories are as good as your Haiku. :)

Hanevi.

 Heat

                                                               Hanevi

I am squeezed in from all sides in the disgusting press of hot, human bodies. The air is oppressive: warm and muggy, like a damp cloth exuding nauseating, unwashed odours. I try not to think of the corners and crevices of sour human flesh. I am trying to stay afloat in this tank full of foetid air, trying to keep my head above the surface where smells, rancid and decaying, float like oil slicks on the sea. Perspiration trickles down my nose, ears and back where my shirt sticks, slick with sweat. I hold on to frayed leather straps to keep myself lurching from side to side as the noise of traffic rumbles and screams, grates and roars, a river of steel and rubber running amok on asphalt roads cracked with vexation, worn bare by fatigue and harassed by the baleful sun.

I feel a sharp pain in my back, and realise that someone’s briefcase is digging into me. I have no space to turn around and look at the man, and I am far too tired to try, and it would be of no use anyway, in this crowded madness where tempers, frayed and violent, seethe like electric currents in the despairing air. I think of giving up.

We come to a sudden, screeching halt. We are all thrown forward. My glasses are pushed awry by someone’s elbow. Somebody calls me an obscene name. I feel a surge of violent rage and I toy with the idea of letting my mind snap, of going hysterically insane and bloodying people’s faces around me. I can feel my mind begin to bend and I just about control myself, reluctantly, like burning rubber that is not easily extinguished. There is a heated argument going on outside while we remain unmoving for fifteen long minutes, shifting on our feet, muttering. I catch glimpses through my sweat-blinded eyes, of faces around me: some tired, some resigned, some blank, some worn thin and stretched almost to breaking, and always that hanging smell of unwashed and putrefying flesh. I notice people staring at me, and suddenly realize that my face is strained and that I have a headache. My forehead hurts from frowning, and my mouth and cheeks are stretched in a grimace.

I let my face relax as we start moving again and some warm air comes in through the windows. I try to catch glimpses of where we are. We pass crowds of people outside waiting to go home and I notice the same expressions, like eyes mesmerized by a pendulum, the crowds like coal on a conveyor belt. I think of vast furnaces and the clacking of gigantic machines below the roads, the heart of the city, black with the greasy bodies and souls of people caught between the huge gears and cogs, where they’ve fallen in through the open man-holes. A sense of claustrophobia engulfs me, and I have to control myself again, this time to keep from weeping. My mind refuses to understand how people can accept a life like this.

There is a sense of relief as I realize that I will get off soon now, and I gather my strength one last time so that I can get through the unyielding crowd to the door, and then feel a gathering panic when I realize that the crowd will not give way. I hear myself shouting, but have no idea what I am saying. My phone falls to the floor, and an old man tells me that it is at his feet. I get down in the forest of legs and pick it up, feel an effusion of gratefulness, and thank him with a touch of madness, and fight my way to the door, where I finally abuse the driver into stopping, well after my stop has passed. I get down after an argument at the door with someone who is angry at my getting off because he has to move out of the way, and the bus moves on.

I walk shakily back, dragging my feet, and feeling as though I had been raped. It takes me half an hour before my mind settles down to a bone-weary numbness.

A vague thought trickles through my mind, “I need to write something on ‘Heat’ for the Rosity post...”

How does a non-American write a Summer Haiku with the word 'Dixie' ? :(

I'm trying but it's hard because even if I know a little of what's associated with Dixie, it's still has an alien feel to it, and makes it difficult to write. I may have to give this one a miss.

Margana, the three word one was great!! :D

heaven burns;
eyes stinging with sweat,
search for clouds

Hi Jon! Good to see you. I get the nudge.  :)

I've been trying but failing to get anything written with having to share the computer with two other guys breathing (warm air) down my back, and then power cuts three or four times in a day, and no computer at home. Today I told myself, I'm going to get cracking, and there's been two power cuts already. But I'm going to try to beat the deadline... (gritting teeth)...(and sweating).

David's a patient guy there! :D

Margana, you know I did briefly wonder...;) But it still does take a lot of work to hold the theme together. :)

Way to go, Drekinn! And hats off to you and Margana for the totally fantastic alliteration thread. I've been trying (unsuccessfully so far because of the time it's taking me to think of alliterations to carry on the thread) to get involved in your thread, but... I have to squeeze in Rosity time with all my office work and travel, and it's difficult.

beach and sea:
pipe dreams to one with
land-locked life

surrender!
carcinogenic
exposure

(inspired by Tall Pockets' Haiku) :)

That's very, very good Margana! (clapping hands) It doesn't stink and it's bravely tried! And you're right- it's extremely difficult. The 5-7-5 one seems virtually impossible when constrained by a theme.

I think it might be good to keep this flexible and keep the creativity going, so if anyone can take up the gauntlets as and when thrown, it would be great, but if not, let's keep the normal Haiku going. How do you guys feel about it? Or would you like to let the thread taper off at this point? No problem on my end; I'm flexible. I think the thread has been great with all your really wonderful Haiku. :)

drained of life,
encounter with sun:
lassitude

Great work, Drekinn! I thought 'bleed'  would cause a roadblock, but it didn't.

OK! With 'lassitude', the American form Haiku gauntlet of a three word Haiku is thrown. Sorry! This sentence sounds terrible, but I'm sure you know what I mean! :D