The Renku Sessions: Tan-Renga Week 9
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
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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
first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light
Peter Mauk
we take one last slow walk
before the vet arrives
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
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”
first first
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light
— Peter Mauk
.
cold fingers
hold a bowl of tea
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
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
first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light
Peter Mauk
those election promises
of transparency
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
first first
steam on the manure pile
rises in the morning light
–Peter Mauk
the sparrow begins
to sing in joy
*
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
last calendar sheet
flood disaster struck
crisp leaves
this desire to run
and jump
– Marion Clarke
a cannabis investment
going up in smoke
spirits
still sweep
this Normandy beach
– Tracy Davidson
wave after wave
climbing the cliffs
black hole
no light escapes
the hoarder’s window
– Laurie Greer
the gravity of an
elephant in the room
mole hills appear
across the field
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
.
wild horses
still wild…
Congratulations Peter for a
humorous and descriptive poem!
Congratulations to finalists and short list poets. Thanks John–very helpful feedback.
*My apologies, John:
Would you accept the revision above to the poem #2, below:
“disappearing behind the weeping willow “
first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light
Peter Mauk
above
the redwoods
first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light
Peter Mauk
*Revision:
above
the Redwoods
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
please
auto correct me
Id I’m wrong
Michael Henry Lee
…
“looks good”
no knead to correct
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
edge of winter…
the warm glow
of your Tiffany lamp
Marion Clarke
hot cocoa and marshmallows
before bed
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
crisp leaves
this desire to run
and jump
Marion Clarke
takes precedence
crunch!
…
whoosh…
freedom!
crisp leaves
this desire to run
and jump
Marion Clarke
the hurdles much higher
after the sermon
edge of winter…
the warm glow
of your Tiffany lamp
Marion Clarke
the auctioneer
rubs his hands
spirits
still sweep
this Normandy beach
Tracy Davidson
the ghost of a chance
in a rubber dinghy
first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light
– Peter Mauk
yet again a husband
makes a mess of things
spirits
still sweep
this Normandy beach
Tracy Davidson
soft tunes of the
swing bands
black hole
no light escapes
the hoarder’s window
Laurie Greer
….
much too much
loss
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)
.
first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light – Peter Mauk
.
on our way to school we pause
to warm our chilblains
spirits
still sweep
this Normandy beach – Tracy Davidson
.
yesterday’s poppies
mark the tideline
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
keep going, she ..
december girl
the scent of hoof oil
from the stable
pass on this one- not seasonal.
first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light
*
Peter Mauk
*
the windfall means we
keep the back 40
**
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
potato pickers enjoying
the fruits of their labor
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
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
**
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
Congratulations Peter! What a visual!
how to put a lid on
this mess
first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light – Peter Mauk
.
inside the milking shed
the sweet scent of milk
.
Congratulations to Peter Mauk, and what an impressive array of capping verses, Richard Straw! 🙂
Yes indeed, Lorin – a great selection!
marion
first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light
*
Peter Mauk
*
hootenany tunes still fresh
in our minds
*
first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light
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
first frost
steam on the manure pile
rises in morning light
the thirty seventh view
of Hokusai’s Mt Fuji
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!
Congratulations, Peter.
John said – ‘a vivid sense of place’
yes, and aroma 🙂
Brings back memories of when I worked in a flat racing yard.
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
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