The Renku Sessions: Pilgrims' Stride 22
Welcome to The Renku Sessions. Renku is a participatory literary game, following a set of rules that are implemented by the leader of the session. If you would like to learn more about renku go here. And if you would like to see a sample of a complete renku go here.
I’m John Stevenson, and I will serve as your guide for this session, a thirty-six verse (kasen) renku. I have supplied the opening verse (hokku) and each week I will select an additional verse from among those submitted prior to the Tuesday deadline.
Our totals this time are twenty poets and fifty-six verse offerings. As I suspected, my access to the internet was intermittent at best while I was in Maine last week. The isolation was certainly helpful in our renku writing there, if not my following activity here. We completed two renku in two days and still had time for kayaking, some light hiking, and more good food than I normally see in a month.
My tentative plan, once we have completed our Kasen renku, is to write one more post as an overview contrasting the experience of creating a renku in this setting with live sessions. I’m guessing that this will produce some discussion and then, I hope, the sessions will resume with a new renku and a new guide.
Loved Scott Mason’s discretely disposed of party favors. Christopher Patchel’s knocked out / in the first round is a good idea for a topic we haven’t touched upon and I hope others will offer us a verse with a sports image sometime within the next few verses.
I made a choice between two “family” verses this time; from carol harrison and batsword. Either would work very well in this position. I suppose my reasons for choosing between them, to the degree that they amount to anything beyond instinct, have to do with saving pronouns for later use and a choice between the qualities of “lust” and “grudge,” either of which add something tangible. Pronouns and lust remain available for us in the next set of love verses.
Our twenty-second verse comes from batsword. I am imagining a couple of scenarios suggested by this verse, in conjunction with its predecessor. One deals with feuds between families/clans. The other involves internal strife that may divide a single family for year after year and be carried forward through generations beyond that of the originally offended parties. Such resentments can come to permeate the foods served at the family dinner table.
Here is the verse you must link to:
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century–batsword
The next verse, the twenty-third, is the first of two consecutive winter verses. Here are the formal requirements for verse twenty-three:
- Winter seasonal image (should include a winter word or phrase from our season word list)
- Written in three lines, without a cut
- Linking with the twenty-second verse, and only the twenty-second verse
- Shifting widely to a new topic and setting
Add your suggested three-line link below, in the Comments box. You have until midnight EST, Tuesday, August 5, 2014. You may submit as many verses as you like, but please use a new comment box for each one. I will announce my selection for the next link on Thursday, August 7 here on the blog, and provide information and instructions for submitting the next link.
What We’ll Be Looking For — Throughout the Session
There are many schematic outlines for a kasen renku. We will be using one set out by Professor Fukuda in his book Introduction to World-linking Renku. It will not be necessary for you to have a copy of this book since instructions will be offered before each verse is solicited.
It is a good idea for those participating in the composition of a renku to make use of the same list of season words. There are a number of these lists available and I intend no judgment of their relative value. For purposes of this session I am suggesting the use of The Five Hundred Essential Japanese Season Words.
Pilgrims’ Stride to Date
comparing maps
to the mountain pass–
pilgrims’ stride–John Stevenson
a sun-warmed stone bridge
over snowmelt–Billie Wilson
dampened soil
of seed trays
in the glasshouse–Margaret Beverland
grandmother’s silverware
polished every monday–Polona Oblak
a sonata
on the concert Steinway
played to the moon–Lorin Ford
dragonflies hover
by the swaying reeds–Karen Cesar
slight hum
of a drone
in fog–Alice Frampton
the atmosphere
thick with teenage pheromones–Norman Darlington
I stumble
trying to reply
“I plight thee my troth.”–Paul MacNeil
thinking of a red wig
during chemo–Asni Amin
the woodland
of silent stories
and shadow–Alan Summers
he makes a wish
to become real–Marion Clarke
each mirror reflects
only the cool moon
rising–kris moon
freshly-caught fish
sizzles in the pan–Aalix Roake
a wealthy prince
exiled in Nigeria
soliciting my help–Christopher Patchel
sugar plum fairy came
and hit the streets…–Jennifer Sutherland
a milky nimbus
at dusk
beneath the cherry tree–Scott Mason
pulling in spring clouds
with a telephoto lens–Dru Philippou
plain truth
of a skylark’s
song–Stella Pierides
our yoga instructor
tells us to breathe–Priscilla Van Valkenburgh
smoldering dung cakes
burning in the blackened pit
flavors the curry–Betty Shropshire
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century–batsword
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Much appreciated, everyone. Please come back tomorrow!
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
The old Lie:
Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori
– Wilfred Owen
http://www.oucs.ox.ac.uk/ww1lit/collections/item/3303
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
their great-grandchildren
turning the pages
of Wilfred Owen
– Lorin Ford
on a cold winter night
the echo of that slapshot
over the pond
after all
he fails to land
the triple axel
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
lightning splits
our old oak tree
straight down the middle
back out of time
Old Master’s Day
kerplops
crows encircle
their deceased in this
snowy wood
city sidewalk
my fear
of icicles
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
her elegant script
on the friendship quilt
everyone wanted
muted fallen leaves
loudly whisper siren songs
of bright wistfulness
g’day John,
Thank you for taking my verse.
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
under the sasanqua
holding our diplomas
champagne overflows
draping blankets
over the furniture
in Mother’s bedroom
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
at the trail head
two ski tracks
diverge
coyote dances
alone stumping
Indian summer
coyote dances
alone wanting
Indian summer
coyote dances
in harmony with
Indian summer
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
sparks ignite
as we gather around
the bonfire
scatter of flakes
harries the day
into marrow
whoops..we already have soil in verse 2..
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
whilst wrath
takes root
beneath cold ground
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
whilst wrath
takes root
beneath cold soil
( inspired by William Blake http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/175222 )
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
this evening
we thaw out
by the fireplace
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
-batsword
barefoot on black ice
my red-headed sister’s
only vow
-Patrick Sweeney
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
chilled to the bone
we maintain the silence
of Juliet’s tomb
– Lorin
Lorin
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
our dear departed
rest with alabaster angels
under winter stars
Lorin Ford
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
my companion cat
purring the edge off
winter solitude
Lorin ford
Whoops! Two links!
Sorry!
thousands of fans
huddle in blankets
at the stadium
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
Monday morning
quarterbacks with the
wisdom of hindsight
ancestral quilts
laid out on the beds
of guests
dodge ball
with a rival school
on frozen ground
The chill on my breast
from the teeth
nursing dissension
hanging mistletoe
using a shaky ladder
one round to go
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
a sigh in unison
breaks out as the first sun
rises over the Pacific
sleeping at my desk
as boredom surrenders to
the clear and cold truth
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
returning home
to withered mums
on the dining table
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
skiers traverse
the mogul field’s
short-radius turns
frost jitters
between the hedges
and corners the schist
frost glistening in
the night air as we watched boys
fight for the football
frost on the auto’s
windshield evoked memories
of birth and dying
all around
the Christmas Tree
Ode to Joy
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
–batsword
ignoring the risk
early-season skaters
on thin ice
left in winter snow
one hundred years
a misspent youth
the first snowfall
covering little by little
all the dirt
withered mums
wrestle alone
with ribbons
Thanksgiving
at least now let’s shake hands
with each other
the family’s grudge
celebrates a century
batsword
all around
the Christmas Tree
Ode of Joy