ysabetwordsmith | Entries tagged with seshaa

This poem fills another square on my card for the

cottoncandy_bingo fest.

The following poem belongs to my oldest settings, a desert called the Whispering Sands. It's on the southern continent in my main fantasy world, Hallelaine. The inhabitants include a mix of humans and elves, and I have quite a bit of the local language Seshaa worked out. There's a narrow band of greenery along the coast, quite a lot of rocky and sandy barrens in the lowlands, some splendid canyons and hills toward the north, and then the high desert with its open dunes inland. The decadent cities lie along the coast and a few other places; there are important tribes like Waterjewel in the north and the Tazha in the south, plus quite a lot of different bandit tribes. It makes for interesting times.

Fandom: Original (Whispering Sands)
Prompt: Desert
Medium: Poetry
Summary: The desert holds many different kinds of beauty, each with its own name.
Content Notes: This poem features words from a constructed language.

( Read more... )

Current Mood: busy
Crossposts: http://ysabetwordsmith.livejournal.com/2508604.html

Here's a wonderful little collage post about "The Best of Enemies." I love the sizzling chemistry between hero and villain.

My desert language Seshaa has some vocabulary for this ...

duush (noun) – This one is quite exclusively a bandit concept, not known either in Waterjewel nor in decadent regions, and the closest English equivalent is “best enemy.” It’s a concept common to many cultures that place a lot of value on fighting, and it refers to a person you fight with a lot, seeking each other out in battle, always on opposite sides – yet you respect each other, and would miss him terribly if he were killed and you couldn’t fight with him anymore. You bring out the best in each other on the battlefield, which gives you both a chance to go home covered in glory if you’re lucky, and if not, at least to take turns doing so, because you’re about evenly matched in skill level. Somehow or other, Shareem seems to have encountered this term, because I’ve heard hir saying “dear enemy” to gutterfox friends, which is just too close a translation for coincidence.

murzhip (noun) – In bandit use, means “the state of affairs when a man has a woman for a best enemy.” It’s something like “hetero-aggressive,” as the expectation is that best enemies are supposed to be two men. A zorbanniyeh who has a best enemy will almost always choose a man, rather than another woman; but men strongly prefer to contest with each other. So murzhip is frowned upon, almost as much as homosexuality is in other cultures. Men will excuse it by saying such things as, “I couldn’t help it! She was irresistible. She ruined my life.” The related adjective is murzhipil and the adverb is murzhipul.

oymiki (verb) – In Whispering Sands use, means “to sculpt each other” or “to decorate each other.” The cultural connotations are subtle and complex. Bandit men use this as slang for exchanging scars in battle, especially between best enemies; decadents use it similarly for political or economic opponents trading more figurative attacks. Both bandit and decadent women use it to mean helping each other with beautification processes which are less than pleasant. In Waterjewel and Tazha use, it takes on a much gentler meaning, of two people making mutual accommodations as they form a close relationship.

yankilama (noun) – In Waterjewel, means roughly “resonance” or “echo” or “reaction.” This is a thing people share that runs deeper than affinity. Whereas benzesh is a thing between friends, and the basis for a strong friendship or romance, yankilama goes beyond that to suggest that in some way their souls were cut from the same cloth. When these two people come together, something in each of them resonates to the other, the way if you pluck a certain harpstring then certain other strings will sound in sympathy with it. It’s a perceptible hum or vibration, which some people find intensely attractive and others find intolerable – but there is no denying it and no doing away with it, any more than you could scrape off the color of your skin (which doesn’t necessarily stop people from trying). Some do manage to ignore or overlook the sensation, especially the type of people who habitually damp down their emotions; but usually it’s something you can feel the first time you meet. The people may not like each other, may indeed be so alike that they can’t stand each other; or they may be like two nuts in a cluster, barely distinguishable. When their lives touch, they immediately start to entwine, even if both of them are living totally different lifestyles. It’s like setting two pots of mint side by side; they immediately put out runners and start growing together. Then if you want to move them a week later, you have to rip the new shoots out by the roots, and they leave pieces of themselves behind in each other. Lucky people sometimes wind up in a relationship (platonic or erotic) with both yankilama and benzesh, which makes for a very intense and intimate bond. Best enemies often have yankilama between them. People in a love/hate relationship almost always do, hence the come-here-go-away dynamic with Shareem and Amal.

Current Mood: busy
Crossposts: http://ysabetwordsmith.livejournal.com/2452275.html

This poem came out of the November 1, 2011 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from janetmiles. It was sponsored by Shirley Barrette and Anthony Barrette. The setting is the Whispering Sands desert in my main fantasy world, Hallelaine; and the language in question is called Seshaa, which means roughly "the voice of the desert" or "the sound of wind over sand."

Pranks and Shenanigans

When a bandit lad
empties all the wineskins at a revel
and refills them with vinegar,
that's a prank.

When Waterjewel's best potter
makes a pot from a dozen kinds of clay
just to see if that's possible
and then dances nearly naked through a revel
with the pot balanced on its head,
that's a shenanigan.

The wind carries one word
for these two things:
wayan.

The desert remains
a collage of cultures divided
by a common language.

Current Mood: busy

Pranks and Shenanigans

When a bandit lad
empties all the wineskins at a revel
and refills them with vinegar,
that's a prank.

The wind carries one word
for these two things:
wayan.

The desert remains
a collage of cultures divided
by a common language.

Current Mood: busy

Pranks and Shenanigans

When a bandit lad
empties all the wineskins at a revel
and refills them with vinegar,
that's a prank.

The wind carries one word
for these two things:
wayan.

The desert remains
a collage of cultures divided
by a common language.

Current Mood: busy

Pranks and Shenanigans

When a bandit lad
empties all the wineskins at a revel
and refills them with vinegar,
that's a prank.

The wind carries one word
for these two things:
wayan.

The desert remains
a collage of cultures divided
by a common language.

Current Mood: busy

I came across this fascinating article today, "The Politics of the Desert Romance." Now of course that title has to grab my attention, because one of my all-time favorite settings is the Whispering Sands desert. This setting shares a lot with our Middle Eastern cultures (historic and modern) but there are enough fundamental differences that it couldn't fairly be called Arabic or Persian or Sumerian, etc. Still, it's a desert culture, and it does rather run to romance plots and subplots, if one defines the term rather loosely in comparison to the mainstream genre. So I couldn't resist making a few comparisons ...

The word “sheik,” originally a term of respect referring to a Muslim religious leader or an elder of a community or family, suddenly took on new connotations of irresistible, ruthless, masterful, and over‐sexualized masculinity in the West—before ending up as a brand of condoms in America by 1931.

Probably the closest parallel in my setting would be Oldren-Asul or "bandit-lord." (The population variously consists of the decadents in the cities, the bandit tribes wandering the desert, plus the Tazha and Waterjewel.) Let's see, irresistible? No, very tempting some of them, but scene sketches to date include resistance. Ruthless? Variable depending on character, with the majority being willing to do anything to protect their tribe. I don't think they qualify as the most ruthless: that would be Khaafid (a decadent ruler) among villains, and certain of the Tazha among the non-villains.
( Read more... )

Current Mood: thoughtful

The word “sheik,” originally a term of respect referring to a Muslim religious leader or an elder of a community or family, suddenly took on new connotations of irresistible, ruthless, masterful, and over‐sexualized masculinity in the West—before ending up as a brand of condoms in America by 1931.

Current Mood: thoughtful

The word “sheik,” originally a term of respect referring to a Muslim religious leader or an elder of a community or family, suddenly took on new connotations of irresistible, ruthless, masterful, and over‐sexualized masculinity in the West—before ending up as a brand of condoms in America by 1931.

Current Mood: thoughtful

The word “sheik,” originally a term of respect referring to a Muslim religious leader or an elder of a community or family, suddenly took on new connotations of irresistible, ruthless, masterful, and over‐sexualized masculinity in the West—before ending up as a brand of condoms in America by 1931.

Current Mood: thoughtful

This poem came out of the August 3, 2010 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired and sponsored by marina_bonomi. Like "Shadow Staves," this poem touches on my desert, the Whispering Sands -- and this time you get to see the kind of omens written by that literate land. A couple words of Seshaa vocabulary appear after the poem itself.

Piraan
– a Whispering Sands khazal

The dust of the desert lies smooth and dry,
Combed by the patiently murmuring wind.

If I could, I would brush away the grains of your days
And level my memory with a sweep of my flattened hand.

What is it in me that seeks your presence
As rainwater runs down to fill an empy well?

What is it in you that craves my fulfillment
As dune grass searches through sand for a drop of dew?

I do not know the answers to these questions that lie between us,
but my mind scrapes at them like fingernails over an itching sunburn.

The dust of the desert is silent except for the sound of wings,
Colorless but for a glint of gold dancing against the duff.

When I turn to see what the oracle beetle has written,
I find it tracing the elegant syllables of your name.

* * *

piraan (noun) – In Whispering Sands use, means “a message in sand or dust.” This is a type of tefna (“omen”) in which the ripples in sand or dust, or some other soft powdery substance, look like words and suggest messages to the viewer.

renapiraan (noun) – In Whispering Sands use, means “doodlebug,” “oracle beetle,” or “insect which writes omens in dust.” A common species has gold wing covers.

Current Mood: busy

Piraan
– a Whispering Sands khazal

The dust of the desert lies smooth and dry,
Combed by the patiently murmuring wind.

If I could, I would brush away the grains of your days
And level my memory with a sweep of my flattened hand.

What is it in me that seeks your presence
As rainwater runs down to fill an empy well?

What is it in you that craves my fulfillment
As dune grass searches through sand for a drop of dew?

I do not know the answers to these questions that lie between us,
but my mind scrapes at them like fingernails over an itching sunburn.

The dust of the desert is silent except for the sound of wings,
Colorless but for a glint of gold dancing against the duff.

When I turn to see what the oracle beetle has written,
I find it tracing the elegant syllables of your name.

* * *

Current Mood: busy

Piraan
– a Whispering Sands khazal

The dust of the desert lies smooth and dry,
Combed by the patiently murmuring wind.

If I could, I would brush away the grains of your days
And level my memory with a sweep of my flattened hand.

What is it in me that seeks your presence
As rainwater runs down to fill an empy well?

What is it in you that craves my fulfillment
As dune grass searches through sand for a drop of dew?

I do not know the answers to these questions that lie between us,
but my mind scrapes at them like fingernails over an itching sunburn.

The dust of the desert is silent except for the sound of wings,
Colorless but for a glint of gold dancing against the duff.

When I turn to see what the oracle beetle has written,
I find it tracing the elegant syllables of your name.

* * *

Current Mood: busy

Piraan
– a Whispering Sands khazal

The dust of the desert lies smooth and dry,
Combed by the patiently murmuring wind.

If I could, I would brush away the grains of your days
And level my memory with a sweep of my flattened hand.

What is it in me that seeks your presence
As rainwater runs down to fill an empy well?

What is it in you that craves my fulfillment
As dune grass searches through sand for a drop of dew?

I do not know the answers to these questions that lie between us,
but my mind scrapes at them like fingernails over an itching sunburn.

The dust of the desert is silent except for the sound of wings,
Colorless but for a glint of gold dancing against the duff.

When I turn to see what the oracle beetle has written,
I find it tracing the elegant syllables of your name.

* * *

Current Mood: busy

This piece originally appeared in the late, lamented Eggplant Library -- a webzine collecting excerpts of books that don't wholly exist. I had cause to share this with someone today, so I figured I might as well share with everyone. This comes from my main fantasy world, Hallelaine, and the Whispering Sands desert; the foreign language is Seshaa.

Omens Read from a Horse’s Mane:
A Collection of Khazals and Commentaries
by Atiyya binte Hameed

Havataan:
Khazalim va Khoteshim
eylu Atiyya binte Hameed

As with many poems known to originate with Mujeed ibn Ahad, this one traditionally appears attributed to Pakiimey the Bone Horse. Mujeed often claimed friendship with this most honored spirit of death. Certainly we have accounts, predating the life of Mujeed, that the Bone Horse appreciates fine verse. However, this particular poem attempts to throw its source even further afield, as the title mentions yet another mythic figure. Close examination of the imagery reveals nothing inconsistent with either an equine or aerial perspective; note especially the conclusion with its reference to the Bone Horse’s legendary selectivity regarding riders. The audience is therefore invited to draw their own conclusions as to the authorship of this poem, mortal or immortal.

Wind Woman Writes My Poetry

The wind is my muse. She
Writes in my mane when I run.

She touches my tail with ribbons
Of words trailing behind me.

In my forelock, the breeze
Braids fine metaphors.

When I prance, poetry
Falls from my fetlocks.

Even the sea-sweat on my sides
Makes meaningful lines there.

Always and always, her voice turns
The white shells of my ears toward her.

Ah, everyone wants to ride me!
But I only want to ride her.

-339-

Current Mood: busy

Omens Read from a Horse’s Mane:
A Collection of Khazals and Commentaries
by Atiyya binte Hameed

Havataan:
Khazalim va Khoteshim
eylu Atiyya binte Hameed

Wind Woman Writes My Poetry

Current Mood: busy

Omens Read from a Horse’s Mane:
A Collection of Khazals and Commentaries
by Atiyya binte Hameed

Havataan:
Khazalim va Khoteshim
eylu Atiyya binte Hameed

Wind Woman Writes My Poetry

Current Mood: busy

Omens Read from a Horse’s Mane:
A Collection of Khazals and Commentaries
by Atiyya binte Hameed

Havataan:
Khazalim va Khoteshim
eylu Atiyya binte Hameed

Wind Woman Writes My Poetry

Current Mood: busy

Here's a thoughtful article about diversity in F&SF, with attention to Spanish and African-American branches. Recommended reading is included. I've read Dark Matter, by the way, and will heartily add my recommendation to that one.

Current Mood: busy

Current Mood: busy

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1	2	3	4	5	6	7
8	9	10	11	12	13	14
15	16	17	18	19	20	21
22	23	24	25	26	27	28
29	30

The Wordsmith's Forge

The Writing & Other Projects of Elizabeth Barrette

Poem: "The Beauties of the Desert"

Best Enemies

Poem: "Pranks and Shenanigans"

Poem: "Pranks and Shenanigans"

Poem: "Pranks and Shenanigans"

Poem: "Pranks and Shenanigans"

Dancing to the Sound of Shattered Stereotypes

Dancing to the Sound of Shattered Stereotypes

Dancing to the Sound of Shattered Stereotypes

Dancing to the Sound of Shattered Stereotypes

Poem: "Piraan"

Poem: "Piraan"

Poem: "Piraan"

Poem: "Piraan"

Omens Read from a Horse's Mane

Omens Read from a Horse's Mane

Omens Read from a Horse's Mane

Omens Read from a Horse's Mane

Diversity in Speculative Fiction

Diversity in Speculative Fiction

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