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The Renku Sessions: Tan-Renga Week 9

renku_300

Hello, everyone. We will be focusing on tan-renga for the remainder of the year. While I’m not certain how deeply rooted in its history this may be, I’m going to urge you to think of tan-renga in two ways. One way is to think of it as the shortest of all renga/renku forms. This would encourage variety in the linking styles and perhaps some great leaps. The other way is to think of it as collaborative waka/tanka, which might support closer linking, bordering upon narrative.

 

It was a busy week for The Haiku Foundation’s website. Consequently, we were pushed off the home page a little earlier than usual. All the same, we produced 63 offers for our next opening verse, from 15 poets.

This week I am combining my short list and finalists:

 

 

please
auto correct me
if I’m wrong

Michael Henry Lee

 

We haven’t done much with humor, so far in these tan-renga sessions. This verse suggests the influence of technology on our daily communications.

 

 

 

edge of winter…
the warm glow
of your Tiffany lamp

Marion Clarke

 

With this opener, we can go easily toward either the shortest renga or the collaborative tanka options.

 

 

 

crisp leaves
this desire to run
and jump

Marion Clarke

 

The possibilities of either extending or curbing this urge seem fruitful.

 

 

 

spirits
still sweep
this Normandy beach

Tracy Davidson

 

The structure of this verse, like an incoming wave, invites a complementary structure in its cap; perhaps a retreating wave.

 

 

 

 

black hole
no light escapes
the hoarder’s window

Laurie Greer

 

The “nothing because of everything” of this image presents a bit of a challenge about what to add. I would find that challenge enticing.

 

 

 

first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light

Peter Mauk

 

This verse would seem to favor the shortest renku approach. A strongly seasonal image, with a vivid sense of place, it should be capped with a complimentary seasonal image. The earthiness of this verse, also something we haven’t worked with much in these sessions, is a common element in tan-renga and other forms of Japanese capping verses.

 

 

 

All of the above verses seem promising and I make a selection, somewhat arbitrarily, to focus on the following:

 

 

first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light

Peter Mauk

 

 

 

THIS WEEK

Please make up to five offers of capping verses for Peter Mauk’s opener. A capping verse will be selected next week and the resulting tan-renga will be added to The Haiku Foundation archives. You may also offer capping verses for any of the other finalists for practice.

Enter your offers in the comments section, below, before midnight (Eastern US time) on Monday, December 5th. On Thursday, December 8th, I will select the capping verse and comment on the process.

 

Thank you, all, once again,
John

 

 

The Haiku Foundation reminds you that participation in our offerings assumes respectful and appropriate behavior from all parties. Please see our Code of Conduct policy: https://thehaikufoundation.org/about-thf/policies/#code-of-conduct

This Post Has 59 Comments

  1. Congratulations, Peter, on the selection! Thank you, John, for your guidance!

    first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    Peter Mauk

    nascent summer
    inches onto the dew

    ***

    a heated argument
    while sealing the coffin

    ***

    a barnyard fowl
    picking grains

    ***

    lamb and lentil
    stewing in the kitchen

    ***

    sipping hot
    filter coffee in bed

    ***

    My offers of capping verses for the other finalists:

    please
    auto correct me
    if I’m wrong

    Michael Henry Lee

    to Czechoslovakia
    i didn’t say i’d go

    ***

    the yoga teacher
    set aside my mat

    —–

    edge of winter…
    the warm glow
    of your Tiffany lamp

    Marion Clarke

    under the sheets
    in the dusk mist

    ***

    the year of her birth
    in fine print

    —-

    crisp leaves
    this desire to run
    and jump

    Marion Clarke

    i brew my tea
    for double the time

    ***

    the tyres crush
    each one

    —-

    spirits
    still sweep
    this Normandy beach

    Tracy Davidson

    the lone ship
    exits

    —-

    black hole
    no light escapes
    the hoarder’s window

    Laurie Greer

    an ants trail
    under the canopy

  2. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    Peter Mauk

    we take one last slow walk
    before the vet arrives

  3. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light
    ———Peter Mauk
    .

    a mallard stands on one foot
    then the other
    .

    the temple’s granite steps
    coated with black ice
    .

    the bituminous scent
    of the afterlife

  4. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light
    *
    Peter Mauk
    *
    shoring fresh fragments
    against the ruins
    *
    a brief nod to the centenary of Eliot’s “The Waste Land”

  5. first first
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light
    — Peter Mauk
    .
    cold fingers
    hold a bowl of tea

  6. first first
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light
    — Peter Mauk
    the fox will eat
    well tonight
    .
    the morning newspaper
    full of bad news

  7. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    Peter Mauk

    a mare whinnies
    amid the scent of hay

    the buddha
    waving hello

    a poultice for
    the farmer’s wound

    placing the winter
    potatoes inside

  8. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    Peter Mauk

    those election promises
    of transparency

  9. This one is just for fun:

    first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    Peter Mauk

    fragrance
    of pumpkin spice

    Sarah Metzler

  10. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    Peter Mauk

    if ever i needed
    a selfie stick

    just comparing
    apples to apples

    one more chance
    to shit shower and shave

    so please take
    your shoes off at the door

    following in
    my father’s footsteps

  11. crisp leaves
    this desire to run
    and jump

    – Marion Clarke

    a cannabis investment
    going up in smoke

  12. spirits
    still sweep
    this Normandy beach

    – Tracy Davidson

    wave after wave
    climbing the cliffs

  13. black hole
    no light escapes
    the hoarder’s window

    – Laurie Greer

    the gravity of an
    elephant in the room

  14. Thank you to everyone for your kind comments. It is a pleasure to play here and take part in this community.

    .

    please
    auto correct me
    if I’m wrong – Michael Henry Lee

    view from the small big small
    end of the telescope

    .

    spirits
    still sweep
    this Normandy beach – Tracy Davidson

    low tide
    angel tarries tallies

    .

    black hole
    no light escapes
    the hoarder’s window – Laurie Greer

    looking out and
    around everything I need

    .

  15. Congratulations Peter for a
    humorous and descriptive poem!
    Congratulations to finalists and short list poets. Thanks John–very helpful feedback.

    1. *My apologies, John:
      Would you accept the revision above to the poem #2, below:
      “disappearing behind the weeping willow “

      1. first frost
        steam on the manure pile
        rises in morning light
        Peter Mauk

        above
        the redwoods

    2. first frost
      steam on the manure pile
      rises in morning light
      Peter Mauk
      *Revision:

      above
      the Redwoods

  16. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light
    Peter Mauk

    a parting gift
    from ole’ nellie

    disappearing behind
    the weeping willow

    a lone dandelion
    sprouts from the muck
    ….

    another reason
    to appreciate the horse

    looking for
    earth worms for the garden

  17. please
    auto correct me
    Id I’m wrong
    Michael Henry Lee

    “looks good”
    no knead to correct

  18. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    – Peter Mauk

    how crows know
    just when to caw

    we surrender to the cloud
    of unknowing

    a period of high pressure
    forecast before Christmas

  19. edge of winter…
    the warm glow
    of your Tiffany lamp
    Marion Clarke

    hot cocoa and marshmallows
    before bed

  20. black hole
    no light escapes
    the hoarder’s window

    Laurie Greer

    the best china
    we never set out

    please
    auto correct me
    if I’m wrong

    Michael Henry Lee

    Alexa confirms
    my bottom’s not fat

  21. crisp leaves
    this desire to run
    and jump

    Marion Clarke

    takes precedence
    crunch!

    whoosh…
    freedom!

  22. crisp leaves
    this desire to run
    and jump

    Marion Clarke

    the hurdles much higher
    after the sermon

  23. edge of winter…
    the warm glow
    of your Tiffany lamp

    Marion Clarke

    the auctioneer
    rubs his hands

  24. spirits
    still sweep
    this Normandy beach

    Tracy Davidson

    the ghost of a chance
    in a rubber dinghy

  25. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    – Peter Mauk

    yet again a husband
    makes a mess of things

  26. spirits
    still sweep
    this Normandy beach
    Tracy Davidson

    soft tunes of the
    swing bands

  27. black hole
    no light escapes
    the hoarder’s window
    Laurie Greer
    ….
    much too much
    loss

  28. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    – Peter Mauk
    .
    this rural scene best viewed
    from a good distance
    .
    ” . . . rural scene, a sweet
    especial rural scene ” ( by Gerald Manly Hopkins)
    .
    her Ladyship sips her tea
    in the flower garden ( flower garden (hanazono, all autumn). from 500 Essential Season Words)
    .

  29. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light – Peter Mauk
    .
    on our way to school we pause
    to warm our chilblains

  30. spirits
    still sweep
    this Normandy beach – Tracy Davidson
    .
    yesterday’s poppies
    mark the tideline

  31. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light
    Peter Mauk

    sipping oolong tea
    from my mother’s cup

    counting dust motes
    in the sunbeams

    the gentle lowing
    of a cow nudging her calf

    mushrooms growing
    behind the sweetgum tree

    wrapping the quilt
    around her shoulders

  32. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light
    *
    Peter Mauk
    *
    the windfall means we
    keep the back 40
    **

  33. Well done, Peter. Thanks for giving mine a mention, John.

    A few for consideration based on memories of my uncle’s farm…

    first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    on the way to mass
    a lamb born too soon

    jumping from haybales
    in Uncle Pat’s barn

    the warm rasp
    of the newborn calf’s tongue

    always just a little nervous
    of my uncle’s racehorse

    Ned the donkey
    keeps the racehorse company

  34. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    Peter Mauk

    may this prayer
    reach you

    sticky toffee pudding
    in my feed

    picking out
    the pumpkin seeds

    the tick tick tick
    of a gas burner

    your breath
    in my ear

    Sarah E. Metzler

  35. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light
    *
    Peter Mauk
    *
    some of us not so fresh
    from a little roll in the hay
    **

  36. breathing in the earthy smell
    of Mom’s Christmas cooking

    if only one could bottle
    the smell of roasting beef

    the warm stickiness
    of Christmas pudding

  37. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light – Peter Mauk
    .
    inside the milking shed
    the sweet scent of milk
    .

  38. Congratulations to Peter Mauk, and what an impressive array of capping verses, Richard Straw! 🙂

  39. first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light
    *
    Peter Mauk
    *
    hootenany tunes still fresh
    in our minds
    *

    1. Sorry for the “false start.” Let’s try this:

      first frost
      steam on the manure pile
      rises in morning light

      a scat singing farmer
      and his pitchfork microphone

      1. first frost
        steam on the manure pile
        rises in morning light

        the thirty seventh view
        of Hokusai’s Mt Fuji

        1. Final Submission:

          first frost
          steam on the manure pile
          rises in morning light

          thoughts of Hokusai
          and Fuji come to mind

          As a newcomer, I apologize for not doing more proofing /editing BEFORE posting!

  40. Congratulations, Peter.

    John said – ‘a vivid sense of place’
    yes, and aroma 🙂

    Brings back memories of when I worked in a flat racing yard.

  41. Congratulations, Peter! A great verse to link with.
    And thanks, again, John, for the mention and commentaries

    first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light
    *
    Peter Mauk
    *
    the baby croons
    a lip-smacked syllable
    **
    of if it needs to be seasonal:

    the baby croons
    a few cold syllables

  42. Congratulations to Peter Mauk on a fine opening verse. And thanks, John, for your selections and guidance.

    first frost
    steam on the manure pile
    rises in morning light

    Peter Mauk
    *
    cows need milking
    despite a funeral
    *
    barn cats live and
    die without names
    *
    crows inspect
    the corn stubble
    *
    tractor parts left
    on a workbench
    *
    the silo’s shadow
    falls on the house

    +++

    Also, congratulations to the other short-listed finalists:

    please
    auto correct me
    if I’m wrong

    Michael Henry Lee
    *
    saying confession
    on the prayer app
    *
    a robot on the
    witness stand

    +++

    edge of winter…
    the warm glow
    of your Tiffany lamp

    Marion Clarke
    *
    spending a night
    with Edith Wharton
    *
    grandmother’s books
    line the top shelf

    +++

    crisp leaves
    this desire to run
    and jump

    Marion Clarke
    *
    squirrel chases squirrel
    round tree after tree
    *
    a child on crutches
    sways back and forth

    +++

    spirits
    still sweep
    this Normandy beach

    Tracy Davidson
    *
    the ebb and
    the flow
    *
    the living and
    the dead

    +++

    black hole
    no light escapes
    the hoarder’s window

    Laurie Greer
    *
    a coffin riddled
    with worms
    *
    a ghost appears
    wrapped in chains

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