Tankako 2

Welcome to the second renku at the Snail for 2013 – a Tankako led by Willie Sorlien!

http://www.renkureckoner.co.uk/ (see Tankako on the left for schema and notes)

Participants:

Willie
Mary
Sandra
Claire
Barbara

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338 Responses to Tankako 2

  1. William Sorlien says:

    I said I’d lead if there are no takers, though if you’re willing I’d gladly stand down to give another a chance!

  2. batsword says:

    I am still keen, and it would be good to work with Willie again.
    Will think on hokku on this misty, moisty morning….

    • William Sorlien says:

      Thanks for that, Barb. What a a short memory you have – or is it me? 😉

      My mail account changed its “look”, and with it any attention to my prompts or commands. Hmm, a signal of how the poem will go? Perhaps that’s a good thing. Losing threads of correspondence, a bad thing. Have you see my “note” from day before last?

  3. John Carley says:

    Right guys let’s do it. I’ll take strand one and Wilie strand two.

    Let’s keep an eye on the sabaki role in the same way that we notice what the particular shape and disposition of this Tankako means for the way a poem unrolls. I can understand why people are a bit wary of ‘poem leader’ (it does after all translate as Gedicht Führer in German) on the grounds that (a) it takes a lot of knowledge and (b) ditto brass neck. But really it’s more like being the office cleaner. Above all what we need to happen is for everyone to feel free to pitch in with opinions and observations. At any time. And in either strand. Though in order to keep things manageable I’d suggest that actual verse contribution is limited to the nominated writing teams.

    Call for hokku –

    The Tankako is relatively conservative. So the expectation is that the hokku would be of the current season, and possibly even of the style that codes augury or salutation.

    And let’s see if we can hit, and sustain, a rapid turn-around time. 24 hours is optimal. To do so *might* involve a higher than usual amount of revision at the end but (a) that hasn’ been my experience so far and (b) it’s not necessarily a bad thing anyway.

    Boom (that was the cannon going off)
    J

  4. William Sorlien says:

    joggers in the park
    heedless of the misty rain
    tall buildings

    veils of late frost
    surround the bodger’s hovel
    misshaped flowers

  5. William Sorlien says:

    joggers in the park
    heedless of the misty rain
    tall buildings

    veils of late frost
    all round the bodger’s hovel
    misshaped flowers

  6. batsword says:

    g’day all,

    some offers:

    new coolness
    a welcoming smile
    at the pumpkin stall

    early to rise
    our refreshing stroll
    on fallen leaves

    from the summit
    a landscape of colour
    ever-changing

    ~

  7. Claire says:

    good day all, ¨let’s go :

    first sightseing
    a dreamcatcher flies his kite
    overhead
    (Indian dreamcatcher)

    Mount Fuji avalanche
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    first day of spring
    drop by drop the hooch
    down their throats

  8. William Sorlien says:

    Thanks for these, Barbara and Claire. Let’s allow a half day for others to respond. Beyond that, it’s vamonos!, on to the next.

    “office cleaner”? I feel a subtle irony.

  9. Claire says:

    shorter

    Mount Fuji last frost
    in the mist
    a painter’s hat

  10. Mary White says:

    Hi Willie and others!

    so settled—
    a heron and a cormorant
    each on their own rock

  11. Mary white says:

    I saw them on the rocks at the shore near my house. I think heron is spring kigo. I am about to try my first Haiga painting at Experience Japan event in Dublin. Feel a nervous anticipation about that!

  12. William Sorlien says:

    Good morning, all! Or, simply, “greetings to all” as our respective time zones might allow, separated some how, though with a single purpose.

    Mount Fuji
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    I was taken by this image the first time I read it. “Mist”, a default kigo for autumn, providing just a glimpse of the solitary individual high up the mountain, spoken in a simple, conversational tone placing the reader below as though he/she were not alone. I want to scale this height together with my companions, impelled to discover the mystery that inspires the artist. And I’ve tried to write verses about hats myself, but not with such success! 🙂

    One caveat may exist, however, and that could be the use of a pronoun, Mount Fuji, in the first folio of Jo. After all, that “instigator” next door deems the Tankako a conservative piece. Well then, I’ll lay that obstinate bit of ruling on his stingy plate, assuming an objection to our effort by offering a bone that edits line 1 to the use of “mountain” with no more than two descriptive syllable counts preceding or aft. Or something like that. That should keep the old dog at bay for now.

    Until that time arrives, however, Claire, would you agree to this reading, sans the avalanche? I wouldn’t want anyone to be injured by the snow, not this early in our progression. We might take our chances later. 😉

    So then, onward with all good wishes for a safe journey, to wakiku!

  13. Claire says:

    Thanks for the like, and yes, Willy, you are quite right. “Avalanche” or “last frost” would rather belong to the link and shift process. And, well-considered, an avalanche (even if kigo) isn’t so much of an augury-salutation at-as the beginning point of a whole stanza. As for the hat, it’s well known… it’s the eternal g’day wishing good… Thanks again! So, I can’t help than agree§

  14. Mary White says:

    Mount Fuji
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    in a sudden swirl
    leaves form a golden pattern

    in a sudden swirl
    leaves form a golden palette

  15. John Carley says:

    Hi all, the following from the putative Renku Handbook – a section on jo-ha-kyu:

    (pasted)
    The initial movement of a poem is jo […] There are restrictions on choice of topic which complement the tonal constraints. Heavy or unfortunate subjects are avoided. In the Edo period this included all mention of death, war, illness, impermanence, religion and sex, not forgetting […] all person and place names.

    A reference to a person or a place points the reader away from the immediate poem. In the preface the intention is to keep the readers’ response within the range of sentiments evoked directly by the poet. Tu Fu, James Dean, Stonehenge and Area 51 are volatile quantities, the associations they elicit unpredictable. […]

    In theory the first verse, the hokku, is exempt from constraint. However, given the tenor of the rest of the preface and the tendency to code the hokku for greeting or augury, very harsh treatments at the head of the poem are rare. […]
    (ends)

    The draft as submitted is not a harsh or unpleasant treatement. As it is the hokku it breaches no convention by naming ‘Fuji’. In Japanese poetics it is both ‘utamakura’ and ‘haikmakura’ – a place considered suitable for composition in both highbrow and middlebrow writing. The things it evokes are familiar to any literate person in English too. So it is not ‘foreign’ in the way that my referring to ‘Rivington Pike’ would be. So on that score, so wishing, it could easily stand as submitted and not cause an eyelash, let alone an eyebrow, to be raised by Johnny Renkujapsoc Wallah. It is what a multiculturalist would call ‘tankakosher’.

    Personally I’m not a great one for formal season word lists but others are of a different opinion, and I’m pretty sure Willie has it right that mist is a full-on recurrent autumn ref in x number of poems. By the same token I’m pretty sure that ‘haze’ is ‘spring’ so, were it the team’s intention to start with ‘spring’ one could consider simply swapping like for like.

    In fact the only thing I’d be obsessing about know would be the worrying fact that I really *want* to see an em-dash after that ‘Fuji’. So much so that’d I’d even be prepared to tolerate the bothersome North American trait of attaching the damn thing to the last character of the word instead of leaving a space first like wot us civilised folk do.

    🙂 J

    • William Sorlien says:

      I like the space, too. The point of either, I assume, to differentiate hokku from its tsukeku and so on. Done!

  16. Claire says:

    sheeps along the way
    to the river

    the lights of bumper cars
    at the fun fair

    and, then, a break
    they play pinball

    • sandra says:

      Hi Claire,

      The wakiku should be in the same season as the hokku – the two parts can be thought of as forming a whole, something like a tanka.

      BTW, the plural of sheep is sheep. English is a bit crazy like that. 🙂

  17. William Sorlien says:

    Mount Fuji —
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    cloak a tin-roof hut

    Reading the schema link provided at the top of this page, I’ll formulate a riff on the moon in due time since it is an option available to us. I must consider our close of this page on the fourth verse as well. I know we’re up to it!

  18. sandra says:

    Sorry I’m joining this a little late (thanks for the prompt, Ash), good hokku.

    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    fresh straw for the scarecrow
    and a new flock of sparrows

    a goldfinch works its way
    across the sunflower’s face

    from the corner of my eye
    goldfinches in the dry grass

    • sandra says:

      Hi Willie,

      You’ll notice I haven’t attempted moon – it just seems a bit early! And a 3-line verse may be more “honourable”. Hmm, will ponder and may come back with some 2-line moon. Not sure, though.

      • William Sorlien says:

        Me neither!

        on the scrap heap
        a cast-off kitchen sink —
        shadows on the moon

    • ashleycapes says:

      My pleasure, sorry I was a bit slow!

      Love the goldfinches in the grass too

  19. Claire says:

    Would like to realize John’s comments. It’s for me : “utamakura, haikumakura, tankakosher,Johnny Renkujapsoc Wallah. I’m very far away. Just wondering, however, could the mist circling Mount Fuji be a hard treatment… Then, the use of an em-dash to avoid the too literate? Hum, the Edo Period, have much to do there…

  20. Mary White says:

    I am confused. Are we following traditional kigo? Mist is spring, fog is autumn, frost is winter ??

    • William Sorlien says:

      That’s a good question, Mary. As for my understanding, I was a bit foggy for a time. I’d found this from Renku Home, The Five Hundred Essential Japanese Season Words:

      haze (kasumi, all spring). For spring mist, use ‘spring mist’. (‘Mist’ alone is autumn.)

      I’m glad you asked. As for my offer of ‘frost’, I’ve meant to imply an “early frost” by describing it as ‘thin veils’. Call it artistic license. 😉

  21. Claire says:

    down the trail to the river
    sheep footprints

    Thanks Sandra, yes, an uccountable!

  22. batsword says:

    Mount Fuji
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter/Claire au

    cut-paddy fields
    reflect a sinking sun

    mackerel clouds captured
    in rich tonal striations

    chilly but refreshing
    we finally arrive

    an ever-changing landscape
    of vibrant colours

  23. Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    cloak a tin-roof hut

    How interesting a contrast with the poem next door. Set in Spring, “The shift to the high register imagery” remains tightly linked between their hokku and wakiku. The pair above take the opposite tack, from the grandeur of a most famous image to a simple mountain hut. Yet while their poem enjoys the liveliness of Spring, Tankako 2 offers the waning Ying energy of Autumn. Interesting indeed.

    We move to Daisan and the “obligatory” Moon. Mary, Sandra and Barb, we have room to grow here. Thanks everyone for your kind indulgence.

    • sandra says:

      Hi Willie,

      I have a hesitation re the wakiku – “thin veils” seems to me to be very close to “mist” (and you have “cloaks” in there too which seems over-egging it). Wonder if you would consider a slight reworking:

      a thin frost cloaks
      the tin-roof hut

      Just a suggestion.

  24. Mary white says:

    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    cloak a tin-roof hut

    a full moon
    shining in the mirror
    silver speckled

  25. Mary white says:

    a thin frost cloaks
    the tin-roof hut

    A bit short?

  26. batsword says:

    I agree with Sandra, and like Mary’s:

    a thin frost cloaks
    the tin-roof hut

  27. batsword says:

    I’ll make some daisan offers:

    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    a thin frost cloaks
    the tin-roof hut ?

    moonshadows bounce
    between tall pines/b

    stray cats on the prowl
    by the light of the moon/b

    her welcoming smile displays
    glints of gold/b

  28. Thanks for the discussion, people. My initial post this morning (re: thin veils of frost) immediately preceded the rush hour, so I was barely able to make the point of counter-intuitive thinking between the two poems, let alone my dissatisfaction with “cloak”, having considered shroud, cloud, coat, paint and the kitchen sink. You’d think an online thesaurus would be infallible. Think again. Thought it better to keep my mouth shut. (Not as easy as it sounds!)

    Realizing we’re on a 24 hour turnaround I knew we might sort it out later. (elsewhere, we’ve just sorted out a triparshva from two years ago, but that would be a step too far). Speed is of the essence, yet hindsight can be our friend. But, as long as we’re on the subject, I’d prefer a greater length for the *original* submission, my concern to create a “standard” for meter throughout, though this cadence seems striking enough with it’s mono-syllabic construction. It was only coincidence to achieve a close link, as it may be, which seemed appropriate to the tankako form described to us. (take breath here)

    Hmmm. I’ve spent the weekend with editorial matters so have more time to think, though I think I need to step away for awhile to clear the cobwebs. This does not mean I avoid attentiveness to your concerns. Quite the contrary. It’s good to have so many thinking caps on! Now, just how do you turn the thing on?? 😉

  29. Oh, and a note on chronology. We have mist (all season) and thin frost (early here, mid season elsewhere) so we might want to be aware of our moon offerings place in season (I have a fascination with the “next moon”, after the month of harvest).

    This daisan-moon verse could be a difficult test for some, though I know this team is up to the task. At least we needn’t limit ourselves to either people or landscape scenes.

    Speaking of which, of interest also to our composition, I’ve found an older renga list of topics. Seems we already have

    rising things (mist)
    falling things (frost)
    dwelling/residence (hut)
    mountain
    sights (Mt Fuji)
    human life (the painter)

    Wow.

  30. sandra says:

    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    a thin layer of frost
    cloaks the tin-roof hut (??)

    coming inside
    with every armful of firewood
    a big yellow moon

    peeling eggs
    at the sink, my eyes
    on the moon

    poaching eggs
    on the outdoor fire,
    a rising moon

  31. sandra says:

    Okay, a couple of those may be “no season”, or “eggs” may resolutely be spring, don’t know.

    just in time
    for the pumpkin harvest,
    a big orange moon

  32. batsword says:

    oh silly me! 3 lines of course …

    ~~~
    melodious music
    and dinner for two
    in the moonlight/b

    suddenly, moon shadows
    bouncing
    between tall pines/b

    noisy stray cats
    on the prowl
    by the light of the moon/b

    • Claire says:

      Just ideas as i woke up…

      thin veils of frost
      cloak a tin-roof hut
      (i like the plural by opposition to the previous singulars, better poetry too)

      a full moon
      shining in the mirror
      silver speckled

      they come inside
      each armful of firewood
      a yellow moon

      moon shadows
      their sudden bounces
      between tall pines

  33. Hi all,

    Still noggin on:

    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    all round the tin-roof hut

    Is it possible to self-plagiarize? Maybe. a view above with the adverb ’round’. Might meet the meter criteria, and a little less uppity.

    A full moon
    shining in the mirror
    silver speckled

    I’m leaning to this at the moment, but I have reservations about the last line. Should we return to an “uppity tone”? “speckled with silver”? A shaving mirror for hikers, or an old dresser? I have toured a few abandoned houses in my day.

    Aggh, have to prepare for the commute. I should return later. And my hair is a mess!

    • sandra says:

      speckled with silver,
      a full moon shining
      in the mirror

      a full moon
      in the silver-speckled
      mirror

      in the mirror
      a full moon
      speckled with silver

      Is “shining” redundant?

  34. Claire says:

    noggin… I’m not the least of a noggin (ma cabêche)
    That seems rather good :

    Mount Fuji —
    through the mist round there
    the hat of the painter (its reads very well with three assonances)

    Still noggin, though, two “round” too, : round plus the hat …around…

    i okk!

  35. John Carley says:

    Older renga lists of topics… I have it on good authority that that the forlorn little things are still in use. Got it – Tadashi Kondo, with Bill, on http://www.2hweb.net/haikai/renku/Link_Shift.html
    I think it’s time for Willie to pronounce the immortal phrase: “Yer gonna need a bigga list.” 🙂 J

  36. You’re right about that. This sucker has only eighteen categories – guess we’ll have to write rubbish for the final six!

    But it is a “renga” list. Reminds me of the time Hortensia came on a comment board to chastise us for having four (or was it five?) references to animals. In a junicho. I replied with something like “Aw, gee, ma, we were just havin’ fun.” We began writing together some time after that.

  37. Sorry, but I just received some good news in the mail. Had to read it twice more.

    And sorry for the bad hair day. The elegantly coiffed Sandra may have provided the answer:

    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    all round a tin-roof hut

    in a (some – thing) mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    Claire, Willie, Mary

    All verses are provisional and subject to later edits, of course. I prefer the protracted vowel sound at end, line 3, with assonance to end, Line 1. Mary, do you have some adjective to lengthen Line 1? Sorry I asked the origin of your mirror. A spoiler question. Something conveying a tactile sense?

    Rough hewn; hand made …?

    And don’t think it untoward to continue the “close” linking (though we do have three visual images). in the same instance Sandra caught out the disingenuous “cloak” I realize the need to remain “conservative” in accordance with the Tankako description. Verse 4 may very well become our true breakaway. Which in turn may best include a strong human presence.

    Go ahead … don’t wait for me.

  38. Mary White says:

    in a walnut/cheval mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver.

    Walnut brings in an earth element. .

    the full length cheval mirror to me something a bit bigger to hold the beautiful reflection of the moon.

    i’m happy my verse is under consideration.

  39. sandra says:

    I like cheval, could be cheval glass

    in a looking glass
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    in a cheval glass
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    And thanks for the coiff compliment Willie – hairdressers always look at me a little oddly when I say I don’t need any “product”, thanks, when it comes to the drying off after a cut. Don’t use mousse, gel or spray.

    I wondered if the good news in the mail was the Einbond results, but maybe too much to hope for 🙂

  40. sandra says:

    I’ll get some offers for the next position in now, have a pretty full day tomorrow so will be behind everyone else, I think.

    thin veils of frost
    all round a tin-roof hut

    in a (some – thing) mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    poking her tongue out
    she picks up each agate

    a single backwards glance
    and our first-born is gone

    the baby’s amber necklace
    snug against his throat

    (there’s some kind of fad here to have babies wear amber necklaces, supposed to stop the pain when they teeth or somesuch)

  41. You’d probably realize I’ve never used “cheval” in a sentence only by glancing in my office. Post-modern clutter would be more like it. I do have an old barrister’s bookcase with swinging glass doors that belonged to my grandmother, Inga. Have a guess at her origins.

    I wonder if we could retain ‘mirror’ in that line, if only to retain the cadence established? Hoping to introduce the tactile, I was worried ’bout the three visual images. Thoughts? Let’s keep that on the backburner for now and continue to move on to close Jo In the meantime. Thank you Mary for the introspective ”mirror’. I love how it closes in from our broader scenes before.

    Ahh – another blizzard on the way. In April no less. Global warming seems to be tweaking the jet stream up here. Although our next verse is non-season. And no mention of a morning commute for the next day or so. That’s for me. 🙂

    Wrapping up this first page’s progression, overt sensory experience might best be avoided entirely, though I believe we do need human presence at the forefront. Ja, you betcha!

  42. John Carley says:

    How very interesting: I was wondering why on earth Sandra (who very nearly speaks English) would suggest ‘cheval glass’ for ‘cheval mirror’ only to find that the former returns five times as many hits on google as the latter. I don’t think I’ve seen ‘cheval glass’ in any British context other than a historic setting, or an attempt by some car-boot salesman to get a few more quid out of unwary by claiming that his ‘cheval glass’ is clearly not a ‘cheval mirror’ because it is made from 300 year old MDF! 🙂 J

  43. Mary white says:

    I prefer cheval mirror. Glass and veil are a bit close.

  44. batsword says:

    in a cheval mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    wisdom and maturity
    ooze from her wrinkles/b

    ah, rejuvenation again
    after her morning swim/b

    running in circles
    she chases the crazy dogs/b

  45. Claire says:

    Hello, and some other offers :

    heating-up their cups of tea
    words and hands

    his morning coffe
    cheeks roll Krisprolls chunks

    at the birthday party
    Laurel and Hardy chew the screen

  46. Claire says:

    Krisprolls chunks roll in the cheeks
    morning coffee

    steps on the lake
    the audience at bay

  47. Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    all round a tin-roof hut

    in a cherval mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    It seems V4 is our breakout verse as well as the final note to our preface. Why this verse, and what’s the link here? How come frogs are being born with three legs in our local wetlands?

    The first question’s answer is – I don’t care. It just sounds *right*. Sans the article the cadence feels a perfect fit while baby named is more intimate somehow. Changing gender designation softens the reading, at least to me. (I secretly wish for a grand daughter some day)

    Barb, if you’re willing, would you lead us into our second page? Continuance of *people* scenes may be the right fit. Or maybe not. We leave it in your capable hands.

    The frogs? Some say it’s an abundance of estrogen in the environment. Maybe that’s preferable to that *macho* assemblage next door. 🙂

    • Lorin Ford says:

      baby’s amber necklace
      snug against her throat

      Nice! I don’t know about NZ, but have seen many photos of Tibetan babies with amber necklaces around their throats, over the years. Big chunky beads.

      – Lorin

  48. batsword says:

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat
    ~
    the medico laughs
    and quickly writes
    another script/b

    in front of cameras
    chased from
    the shopping centre/b

    after the next day
    immobilised by his threats
    in the lobby/b

    under covers
    ignoring the shock and awe
    of rockets/b

  49. Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    all round a tin-roof hut

    n a cherval mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    ***

    chased
    by the cameras
    in front of all (the/these) shoppers

    Claire, Willie, Mary, Sandra, Barb

    I wonder if Barb has been watching American “reality” TV? My pirated cable was just shut down – now we need some digital contraption – inescapable.

    What think you of this format, Barb? Need we a ruling on it’s “shape”? Hmm …

    Think on that a spell. Our Schematic calls for wi/su season next. Looking down the rows of both we have some interesting options, My sense says summer though I could be wrong. Degachi. I’m putting on dark sunglasses.

  50. John Carley says:

    Top quality first four. That falling cadence on the last line of #4 really delivers the pause. 🙂 J

  51. batsword says:

    No American reality tv for me, just the news clips…

    maybe this:

    chased by
    cameras in front
    of terrified shoppers

    ???

  52. ahhh … my mistake. Although American news media *is* strictly for entertainment and distraction (I do so enjoy a ripping yarn to aid me in my “slumber”!). So, not Honey-boo-boo, but rather, Godzilla …. in my defense, there isn’t a great amount of difference.

    Which now makes it clear to me the delicious ambiguity of the original submission. Paparazzi or up-to-the-minute coverage – and just where did those hyphens come from?! In retrospect I think I prefer *not* knowing. A bit like the true nature of our CPI statistics, ignorance can be bliss. Of course, the real, glaring question may be, “Does ‘terror’ threaten the existence of the back of our first folio”? News at eleven.

  53. Claire says:

    I suck in the song of a skylark
    in a summer grove

    I stop in by river creek
    a nap at the fountainhead

  54. Off to dinner with the kids so here’s one from me plus possible suggestions for maeku, including ‘time of day’:

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    chased away
    by cameras
    in front of (la-dee; noon-time?) shoppers (provisional)

    koi rise from the shadows
    to gulp at hot air

    or

    from the shadows
    koi rise to gulp at hot air

  55. sandra says:

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    chased away
    on camera
    in front of startled shoppers

    loose change in one pocket,
    sun-warmed tomato in the other

    catching up on family news
    across the row of raspberries

    left-over zucchini salad
    a scent of mint among the desks

  56. Mary White says:

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    chased away
    on camera
    in front of startled shoppers

    gmo – everything in the shop
    written by man

    still thinking about that one!

  57. Mary White says:

    gmo – saving my seeds
    in little secret pockets

  58. Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    all round a tin-roof hut

    in a cherval mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    ****

    chased away
    on camera
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from shade
    to gulp at heated air

    Claire, Willie, Mary, Sandra, Barbara, Willie

    Hello everyone,

    Some interesting offers, all, sparking lots of memories and responses. Thinking it best to stick to script I have gone with my own offer, however, maintaining the “urgency” of maeku and if only as a steamy set up for a pending “summoning love” verse. I have chosen to reserve the evocative “shadow”, inserting ‘shade’ instead. And, perhaps we were due something void of human interaction.

    I hope I’m correct in seeking our best advantage. Our entire text remains provisional, of course, (despite my incessant tinkering) until such time as we review.

    On to our second summer verse, and a first call for love. We continue degachi, if you please. Off we go!

  59. Hmm – trying for a bit more congruency, definition and “pivot”:

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    ****

    chased away
    on camera
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from quiet shade
    to gulp the heated air

  60. Claire says:

    Moulin Rouge chore lady
    to lover’s cooings
    succombs on a summer night

    (below the) mosquito net
    a Maiko spills love kanji
    on her beau’s pillow

    • sandra says:

      under the mosquito net
      a maiko spills love kanji
      on her beau’s pillow

      Hi Claire,
      This is lovely, very erotic too. I don’t think you need a capital on maiko (trainee geisha) and have suggested “under” rather than “below”, which gives the impression that the mosquito net is suspended above her, rather than enveloping her.

      I will submit some verses too, but I don’t know that I can do better than this.

      • Claire says:

        Thank you, Sandra. Yours has “le petit plus that tells all and makes all the difference. And, yes, you’re right with “under”.

        Is next verse, ns/lv,

        The koi is an interessing transition.

  61. sandra says:

    chased away
    on camera
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from quiet shade
    to gulp the heated air

    the sound of the fan
    as it clicks this way, then that
    across our twined legs

    always thought
    I’d fall for a pair of blue eyes …
    and yet here you are

    so many years now
    but oh! how I remember
    that first glance

  62. batsword says:

    Willie, I thought we were to avoid rising.

    some offers:

    koi rise from quiet shade
    to gulp the heated air

    both star struck
    under swaying palms…
    no need for words

    outside the library
    she offers him
    chocolate ice-cream

    under the fan
    a lovers’ couch, and
    that hungry look …

  63. I most likely confused the issue trotting out that renga list of topics. Here’s the section we refer to:
    “natural phenomena–‘falling’ e.g. rain frost, snow and hail or ‘rising’ e.g. mist, smoke”

    and the article I drew it from if you’re interested:
    http://simplyhaiku.com/SHv2n3/renku/minase_sangin.html

    Oh, I almost forgot. Some other options for your verse in more a “traditional” phrasing; a nagging concern over pinpointing your intentions correctly and maintaining congruity of verse structure – at least until we hit the front of the second folio! 🙂

    chased away
    by the cameras
    in front of startled shoppers

    running away
    from the cameras
    n front of startled shoppers

    • Lorin Ford says:

      chased away
      by the cameras
      in front of startled shoppers

      running away
      from the cameras
      in front of startled shoppers

      chased away
      on camera
      in front of startled shoppers

      chased by
      cameras in front
      of terrified shoppers

      in front of cameras
      chased from
      the shopping centre

      I’m not getting whether ‘cameras’ in this scenario are CCTV cameras, paparazzi cameras, TV cameras or whether part of a film is being shot in in a shopping centre.

      In connection with the baby’s amber necklace, the possibilities re link that occurs to me is that someone has been shoplifting or someone has snatched a baby, therefore CCTV cameras seem the likely sort. But CCTV doesn’t ‘chase’, so it could be paparazzi, TV or film cameras. “In front of cameras..” suggests a staged thing, which makes it more likely film cameras. But it’s not clear to me that this is what’s intended.

      Some possibilities, Barbara and Willie, for you to riff off if you choose … hopefully not to add to the confusion

      baby’s amber necklace
      snug against her throat

      to catch a thief
      CCTV footage
      on the evening news

      another snatcher
      fleeing the shopping centre
      on CCTV

      a yummy mummy
      pursues the paparazzi // TV cameras
      for her chance at fame

      the paparazzi
      this yummy mummie’s
      one chance of fame

      at the crime scene
      a TV news chopper
      first to give chase

      – Lorin

      • Hi Lorin,

        I immediately saw it as paparazzi, Barb wrote it as a news story (crime-related?). It’s rather ambiguous, perhaps rightly so. Just trying on some formats so as not to squash Barb’s intent while avoiding an unusual rendering at this early stage in our development.

  64. the sound of the fan
    as it clicks this way, then that
    across our twined legs / Sandra

    I’ve only a few minutes ’til I rush off. A bit prematurely, perhaps, I’ll post this for consideration. In light of our current metrical structure, it seems, descriptively, rather full on, though I think I prefer it for introducing an auditory sense while leaving much to the imagination!. 😮

    I might finish early today, unless my betters see fit to milk the day along. See you then!

  65. batsword says:

    Yes, Willie, that’s why I mentioned it. ie the koi and the elevating topic…

    I like Sandra’s verse above.

  66. Or maybe not! See you, i.e.. Had to crash, changing morning start times and locations. It’s OK, I know the metropolitan area like the back of my, uhh … whatchamacallit.

    Speaking of which, don’t you like all that’s unspoken in this verse? I hope so, ’cause *I’ve* never, ever linked a murky koi pond to a sexual liaison. There was that time at Phalen Lake … the wife and I drove past again the other day. Currently, a foot of ice on it!

    A trick to transfer mood so well. Better yet, skill and practice. I’ve trimmed a word or two –

    the sound of the fan
    a click this way, then that
    our legs entwined

    and a *rising* cadence at the end. (Some verses “up our sleeve”, to boot.) Might need a punctuation mark after L2.

    Our first love sequence/pairing, we proceed quickly to “end of love”, non-season. In only the first stage of our development, something humorous, perhaps? It’s your call, everyone.

    I sure will be glad when the ice is out on the lake again …. 😉

  67. Mary white says:

    the sound of the fan
    a click this way, then that
    our legs entwined

    drunk dialling
    number no longer in use

  68. Claire says:

    days in, days out
    Buddha’s blissful retentive hand, but…

  69. Claire says:

    days in, days out, the hand of Buddha
    blissful, retentive, but…

  70. Stop the presses!

    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    all round a tin-roof hut

    in a cherval mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    ****

    chased away
    by the cameras
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from quiet shade
    to gulp the heated air

    the sound of the fan
    it clicks this way, then that —
    our legs entwined

    drunk dialing the number
    no longer in use

    Claire, Willie, Mary, Sandra, Barbara, Willie, Sandra, Mary,

    Good one, Mary! As good a summation as could be found. A finality, yet open-ended for two subsequent non-season verse, then, on to an (uplifting?) blossom offer.

    Claire, do you feel up to taking the hot seat on this position? A scribe on impermanence, perhaps? You needn’t if you don’t want to. You certainly could have fun with it if you like.

    I’ve inserted an em dash in the verse before last to see how it looks. What ya’ll think ’bout that?

  71. sandra says:

    Hi Willie,

    Like the em dash! Like Mary’s verse! Like exclamation marks (screamers in the trade)!!

    Note the spelling of cheval (no “r”).

    Cheers.

  72. Claire says:

    Hi there,

    against the tide
    pages of squibbling, squibbling
    the flow of the river

    day in, day out
    the tale of the soothsayer
    whittles the river

    zazen on the river bank
    at the scribe goatee
    a bubble of sweat

  73. Claire says:

    Hi there,

    zazen on the river bank
    at the scribe goatee
    a bubble of sweat

    day in, day out
    the tale of the soothsayer
    Whittles the river
    (away)

    against the tide
    pages of squiggling, squiggling
    the flow of the river

  74. Claire says:

    Sorry, it’s the second kaishi,!

  75. Mornin’ Claire,

    I’m laughing now – write on any subject you like! 🙂

    # 9 non-season

  76. Claire says:

    a day at the mine
    the local signpost tells us
    to stand away

    Hyde Park Corner
    the soothsayer tells us
    the forgotten tale

    tip of the scribe gottea
    the blank page
    of the non-season words

    Well,I’m pretty sorry, hope it’s non-season, this time!

  77. Bang on, Claire!

    the sound of the fan
    it clicks this way, then that –
    our legs entwined

    drunk dialing the number
    no longer in service

    on Hyde Park Corner
    the soothsayer tells us
    the forgotten tale

    Wonderful meter and anticipation. Well done. I’ve added “on” to L1 to avoid a cutting sense. Mary and all, would you accept the tweak to maeku, the impersonally American “service”? No need to answer directly.

    Shall we go competitive again? We have a third person singular to lead us away. Or, avoiding direct “people” reference (or other recognizable locales) we could go elsewhere, non-season, and let me see, spring blossom to follow. Many roads diverging …

    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyde_Park_Corner

  78. drunk dialing the number
    no longer in service

    on Hyde Park Corner
    the soothsayer tells us
    he forgotten tale

    the hour quite late
    a labyrinth of brick paved streets

  79. batsword says:

    a message in a bottle
    washes up between rocks

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

  80. Claire says:

    a message in a bottle
    washes up between rocks

    Barbara, why not, “bottled message”?
    Anyway, a good link!

  81. drunk dialing the number
    no longer in service

    on Hyde Park Corner
    the soothsayer tells us
    a forgotten tale

    so late the hour,
    this labyrinth of twisting streets

    I thought to go with the closer linkage here. By pure dumb luck, there is alliteration, as well as mimicking a more classical register of tone – a reference to “time of day” also. I was a little uncertain of the form at first, though Claire claims to have caught on to the “mystery” aspect.

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    I love this image! There is a question with ‘quilts’ itself though- could this be construed as a winter verse? That being the case, I’d hold this verse “up our sleeve” for the upcoming winter passage in the second folio.

    Barb deservedly gains the first blossom position if she wants it. An uplifting tone may appeal here so close to the close of the section.

    The old renga list of topics reveals, insects, night and shining things are available.
    Feeling picked on, Barb? 🙂

  82. batsword says:

    I remember
    that house with the blue
    hyacinths on the sill

    stymied at the junction
    each petal’d plum tree
    looks the same!

    almond blossom flurries…
    a young prince finds
    the perfect fit

    • experimenting …

      through flurries of (plum) petals,
      I remember
      the blue house on the hill

      hyacinths might be out since we look for a woody plant with blossom.
      That house, through the flurry of petals … the intention gave me an idea. Simply reeks of <i.impermanance, doesn’t it? And a fine set-up for our conclusion to page 2. I don’t know … What is the team’s input. please?

      • Rather hurried this morning – we had another 8 inches of snow overnight! I had to dig out once again. And they call this Spring?!

        So, to be clear, I was looking for our team’s responses to Barbara’s offers, not just any of my erratic musings! 🙂

  83. sandra says:

    chased away
    by the cameras
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from quiet shade
    to gulp the heated air

    the sound of the fan
    it clicks this way, then that –
    our legs entwined

    drunk dialing the number
    no longer in service

    on Hyde Park Corner
    a soothsayer tells us
    the forgotten tale

    the hour quite late
    a labyrinth of brick paved streets

    through flurries of (plum) petals,
    I remember
    the blue house on the hill

    My question is this … is this section doing enough to warrant its “ha” designation? Up until the “drunk dialling” verse I would say so, but my feeling is that the tension/theatrics/high-wire stuff drops off after that point. The poem becomes rather vague and romantic in tone – a soothsayer, a forgotten tale, a late hour, a labyrinth, flurries of petals and a memory.

    I’d like to see this verse, if not one of the others as well, jazzed up a bit before we turn to the mellow kyu section.

    My opinion only, so feel free to ignore. However, there may be an issue of “forgotten tale” and “I remember” being a bit echo-ey.

    I like the flurries of plum petals very much.

    • Thanks Sandra,

      All opinions are most welcome here. How else does one learn?

      Yesterday, I began some sleepy tinkering and realized a feeling of some sort of reoccurrence so stopped forthwith:

      on Hyde Park Corner
      a soothsayer tells us
      the forgotten tale

      so late the hour,
      this labyrinth of twisting streets (provisional)

      through flurries of (plum) petals,
      I remember
      the blue house on the hill

      I really liked Barb’s finely stitched quilts but had a concern about coding a wintry season in the reading. A labyrinth of twisting streets seemed a bit more “sinister” than romantic in tone in my view, though I’d hoped it allowed a set-up for our first spring blossom, arriving at some respite from a daunting journey, perhaps.

      Barb’s ‘blue hyacinths’ were great but a conservative structure like Tankako, as I understand it, might involve a woody (deciduous?) growth source. Nor do *I* want to fall back on wholesale rewriting of an offer – rather rude and heartless, don’t you think?
      A practice I’ve been all too guilty of in the past.

      We *are* in the first section of Ha, so the intensity might gather and congeal in the second half, if you will. Overall, the dynamic structure might rise and fall throughout the poem until we see fit to rein in the tension in Kyu.

      I’ve been considering “status” linkage, too, not necessarily the topic but the register of the, umm, dialogue, without creating a stilted reading that interrupts a smooth flow between *all* the verses.

      Let’s review the offerings:

      I remember
      that house with the blue
      hyacinths on the sill

      stymied at the junction
      each petal’d plum tree
      looks the same!

      almond blossom flurries…
      a young prince finds
      the perfect fit

      Unfortunately, ‘remember’ and ‘junction’ may recall ‘forgotten’ and ‘corner’.

      I find ‘flurries of (plum) petals’ and ‘that house’ to be most appealing phrases, the former to match our topic position and the latter for tweaking my curiosity.
      House, an example of ashirai, reveals no protagonist in the story, possibly advantageous since this would be our fifth person verse in a row, and there is suitable separation from the ‘hut’ verse in Jo.

      Oops! The dogs are asking to be taken out. I need a breath of fresh air myself. I’ll return soon enough.

      • sandra says:

        Thanks for the considered reply Willie. I always know I am in safe hands with you, so don’t mind my nerves getting the better of me. I could worry at the Olympics and win a gold, no question. 🙂

  84. sandra says:

    flurries of plum petals
    and a monk striking a pose
    for an iPad photo

    But I’m sure Barbara will excel at this – her verses always surprise me! 🙂

  85. batsword says:

    I don’t think we can have a camera here again.

    Um, would this serve:

    through flurries of plum petals,
    I recognise that blue house
    on the hill

  86. Claire says:

    It seems difficult to change things ina right positive way, … doesn’t it? or?

    tells the tale
    of the House of Usher (Poes’ House of Usher) (then, next Barbara has to change her …house…)

    Or, next one could be with Poe’s “Golden Bug” (sp short) ..? (keeping, anyway, the flurries with their impermanence

  87. Claire says:

    so, then, back to non-season : Poe”s House of Usher (just a thought, though)

    Hyde Park Corner
    a sootsayer tells the tale
    of the House of Usher

  88. I see I’ve mistakenly implied some restraints on your offers, Barb – some subsequent, explanatory notes to be found in replies above.

    To reiterate, our utmost concern is to avoid recall to uchikoshi, then secondly maintaining a certain tone and tension to this side, the first of Ha. They may be equally important concerns, for that matter.

    Paraphrasing from your texts, “flurries of blossom/petals” is mutually appealing to our team respondents. I think it safe to say we gain from another visual reference, also, having, at the least, sound and time-of-day preceding.

    Personally, to cull more information from your offers, I find the “house” useful for not directly implying any actual persons. “Blue” and the “hill” were just my fitful tinkerings, and not meant to oppose what you mean to convey.

    Before we move on, I would propose a structure to include –

    flurries of plum petals
    (da-da-dee-da)
    the house (on the hill)

    – options listed in parentheses are more for matters of prosody and metrical flow, nor are the lines restricted to the order presented. I’ve included “plum” to coincide with the early season of this three-verse tier and to meet our “spring blossom” obligations.

    “On the hill”? A personal observation would be it lifts us from the dangerous streets, assuming a suitable conclusion to the side to follow. But don’t mind me.

    Let’s go degachi to the next verse and see what our distinguished panel decides, since we seem to be in agreement that all verses are provisional, open to interpretation due the advantage of hindsight. Please provide maeku and uchikoshi with your offerings, please.

    I can’t wait to see what we garner! 🙂

  89. sandra says:

    flurries of plum petals
    plopping softly against
    the windows

    sneaking in
    under every umbrella
    flurries of plum petals

    (see, now I’ve got the yips about “on the hill” and “Mt Fuji – I love linked verse and I hate linked verse; I always get wobbly somewhere in the middle …) And apologies to Barbara for making this verse position long-winded with my questions.

  90. sandra says:

    so late the hour,
    this labyrinth of twisting streets

    flurries of plum petals
    (da-da-dee-da)
    the house (on the hill)

    arranging forsythia
    in a green glass vase

    an elderly bachelor pins
    fresh oak leaves to his lapel

    cupping a baby bird
    in both my trembling hands

  91. batsword says:

    I wondered about the hill too, and now I also question house as we already have hut…
    Here’s another option:

    so late the hour,
    this labyrinth of twisting streets

    at the junction
    flurries of plum petals
    disguise the signpost

    hello world! each and
    every insect rejoices

  92. Claire says:

    Just a bit more enthusiastic:

    flurries of plum petals
    plopping piling up against
    the windows)

  93. Mary White says:

    flurries of plum petals
    plopping piling up against
    the windows

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    keeping it soft

  94. Claire says:

    A very soothing spring verse,

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

  95. Wow – such considered comments, all. I am fortunate to be in such company.

    First let me respond to Mary’s tsukeku – Exquisite!

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    This is linking in classic style, blossom to butterfly, befitting the tankako format we’re using. This conclusion provides a calming effect by the use of wonderfully understated phrasing, setting up our next section, allowing it to “take off” if you will, the bonus being the apposition of the tactile sense of commonplace, muslin curtains to those silky, falling petals. Mary, this reminds me of me Da’ and his affectation for insisting on purchasing percale sheets. Funny …

    So then, the preceding leap-over verse and its forebears began a slight tension (foreboding?) of those “twisting streets”, subsequently corresponding to blossom somehow –

    drunk dialing the number
    no longer in service

    on Hyde Park Corner
    the soothsayer tells us
    a forgotten tale

    so late the hour,
    this labyrinth of twisting streets

    In essence, we have a “renku wave”, building higher yet not allowed to “crash”, controlled by Mary’s gentle response. So, how to treat the elusive blossom itself?

    As I understand historical renga/renku precedent, our Mount, hill, hut and house have more than enough separation to suit even the meanest “expert” critique. “Corner” and “junction”, on the other hand, seem closely related as well as being in close proximity. Of course, I am aware of the difference due to my travels over the last year. Barb, you must live in a semi-rural region? I can dig it – s’where I want to be some day. I’ll go one further and quote from that ’79 Coppola film; “those wide open spaces put the *zap* on his head”!

    From foreboding to gentility; would the best link be a question or, perhaps more succinctly, a coded reference of the transient nature of our existence?

    just visible
    through flurries of plum petals
    a house on the hill

    Crude, perhaps, but I do hope you get the point of what I’ve drawn from Barb’s existing framework. Allow me to print the draft I have of the entire poem in reply so we might judge how it progresses. One thing I’ve noted is the particular absence of extraneous articles through out.

    As verses are provisional until such time we perform our final proof, I move we proceed, poste haste, to our second folio. It’s time to really cut loose! 😉

    • Mount Fuji –
      through the mist up there
      the hat of the painter

      thin veils of frost
      all round a tin-roof hut

      in a cheval mirror
      the full moon
      speckled with silver

      baby’s amber necklace
      snug against her throat

      ****

      chased away
      by the cameras
      in front of startled shoppers

      koi rise from shade
      to gulp the heated air

      the sound of the fan
      it clicks this way, then that –
      our legs entwined

      drunk dialing the number
      no longer in service

      on Hyde Park Corner
      the soothsayer tells us
      a forgotten tale

      so late the hour,
      this labyrinth of twisting streets

      just visible
      through flurries of plum petals
      a house on the hill

      white muslin curtains
      set loose a butterfly

      Claire, Willie, Mary, Sandra, Barbara, Willie, Sandra, Mary, Claire, Willie, Barbara, Mary

      • Two notes –

        1) edit:

        so late the hour,
        this *web* of twisting streets

        “labyrinth” seemed a bit wordy in light of the whole design. In my view “web” evokes the adage “the webs we weave” in conjunction with that soothsayer’s tale.

        2) … and now I see it:

        Mount Fuji –
        through the mist up there
        the hat of the painter

        just visible
        through flurries of plum petals
        a house on the hill

        As was pointed out, these are very similar. The question is, does separation of ten verses save the day? In theory, it should. Artistically?

        through flurries of plum petals
        a house on the hill

        Less pointedly, given Barb’s parameters these two lines, taken alone, downplay the possible ramifications of recall. The thing to consider might be the “feeling” presented by maeku and our subsequent closure:

        so late the hour,
        this web of twisting streets

        (blank – blank?)
        through flurries of plum petals
        a house on the hill

        white muslin curtains
        set loose a butterfly

        However, Heaven forbid any fretfulness over structure should stop our momentum now! I think I’ll walk away to partake of the day for awhile. I’m confident our company will find an answer.

        Our schema denotes a final spring verse to open the side followed by a string of non-season including our second pair of love verses. Enjoy!

      • an attempt at intervention –

        so late the hour,
        this web of twisting streets

        nearing an outpost
        flurries of plum petals
        by a house on a hill

        white muslin curtains
        set loose a butterfly

  96. Claire says:

    crossroads ( crossroad to crossroad)
    through flurries of plum petals
    a house on the hill

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    his clogs and watering can
    the gardener’s
    mystic looks

    gurgling water
    to and fro the gardener
    in his paddy field

  97. sandra says:

    Love Mary’s verse – and here for your amusement is the opposite experience.

    We’ve had torrential rain for the past two days, a real drought breaker that has, of course, caused flash flooding, landslides, etc. Between 8pm Friday and 8pm Sunday we’ve had 218.8mm of rain! At my place we had water lapping towards the front door on a couple of occasions (the rain really came down hard for extended periods) but by good luck and a bit of management we kept it at bay.

    Last night at about 8, there was a huge thunderstorm – lightning, booms of thunder that sounded like the world was about to end and rain, rain, rain. So my husband and I were busy doing what we could to keep the water out and on one journey to fetch something else or turn another light on, my teenage son said, “there’s a monarch butterfly in the house”. I finished my errand, came back and said, “where?”.

    It was easy enough to catch so must have been a recent hatch – can’t say I’d noticed a chrysalis anywhere. I carried the butterfly carefully outside, considered all the rain and wondered, what do butterflies do at night? Anyway, there is a large ball of tillandsia hanging from the verandah ceiling so I put it into that and it seemed okay about it, probably happier when the outside lights were off again.

    It seemed very surreal at the time – thunder, lightning downpour outside, butterfly inside!

  98. batsword says:

    stay safe and dry, Sandra. All sunshine here…

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    game cancelled
    for surprisingly, snow
    still lingers

    into the sunshine
    a fledgling discovers
    the world

    muddy footprints
    from dirt rain
    in the foyer

  99. sandra says:

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    from tree to tree
    green leaves
    burst their buds

    every day a few more,
    fresh leaves
    on the potted maple

    easing the milk flow
    my infant’s hand
    meets mine

    rushed feeding
    the sound of my infant’s belch
    at the poetry reading

  100. Mary White says:

    Hey Is this a spring verse? I love

    easing the milk flow
    my infant’s hand
    meets mine

    For me it recalls sleepy feeds in the quiet of the night. That wonderful intimacy.

    • sandra says:

      Thanks Mary, the quietness and the closeness was exactly it.

      Spring? Well, I was kind of hoping that baby anything had the cloak of spring thrown over it. 🙂

  101. chased away
    by the cameras
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from shade
    to gulp the heated air

    the sound of the fan
    it clicks this way, then that –
    our legs entwined

    drunk dialing the number
    no longer in service

    on Hyde Park Corner
    the soothsayer tells us
    a forgotten tale

    so late the hour,
    this web of twisting streets

    nearer the outpost
    flurries of plum petals
    by a house on a hill

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    ****

    gurgling water
    to and fro, the farmer
    in his paddy field / claire

    every day a few more,
    fresh leaves
    on the potted maple / sandra

    Hi all,

    Posting the current draft of side 2 for review, with two new candidates beneath.

    Looking ahead – a run of non-season with a love-pairing somewhere in the set. Oh, this is interesting; we could choose autumn or winter, either with moon, to conclude the side.

    The above candidates are set aside for their qualities of length, timing and for closely resembling verses with kireiji. Check my spelling. Both might fall in the category of “late spring”.

    I’m off to a new location in town. I seem to be designated “cleaner”, finishing jobs that have fallen behind. Nice work if you can get it. Just cleaned out the Ute of two feet of snow – more on the way!

    • sandra says:

      I like Claire’s “gurgling water” – if you think there’s enough separation from koi (not only with water, but also the Asia-ness of the image), let’s go with that. Mine seems rather pedestrian alongside the effortless use of sound.

      I might even suggest an alternative to mine, if you like:

      every day a few more,
      fresh leaves
      on the bonsai maple

      I didn’t have a bonsai in mind when I wrote it, although see that could be the case from “potted” (I have “patio” maples).

      • I think Claire’s verse might do, Sandra. Five spaces may be adequate, though I hadn’t noticed any tremors from a distant echo – torinne, if I’m correct. Also, an Edo period reference in verse before last. If no one noticed, that’s good. A change of scene in what was becoming almost a narrative, I was attempting to quiet the first line. Seems water is a *hit*on our erstwhile renga list, too. 🙂

  102. Claire says:

    he is bewitched
    her rosy-white complexion

    a wet kiss down her neck
    let’s go to the hut, she says

    on the weeping willow bench
    always necking, those two!

  103. Claire says:

    a kiss down her neck
    let’s creep into the hut, she says

  104. Hi all,

    Sandra has graciously recommended Claire’s verse to our first of side 3 as well as lending her fine instinct to the cause. (notes above)

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    ****

    gurgling water
    to and fro, the farmer
    in his paddy field / Claire

    If we are to follow our schema to the letter a love pair would appear here next in a string of three non-season slots. Or maybe four if we choose to go with winter as our next season. What the heck, I’m still working on my grammar lessons. 🙂

    With eight spaces all told to intensify our offers. more tangential and daring verse may be in the offing. These might include allusion to more troublesome events – war, sickness, etc. The previous side’s momentum reminds me somehow of the kasen Withering Gusts, aside from its numerous Edo period cultural references, as outlined in Haruo Shirane’s Traces of Dreams.

    Thus far it appears our linkage has been inclined to content, kokorozuke, and that’s not a bad thing. Perhaps a thrust towards linking by “mood or tone” might enliven our poem even more. Overall, I’m quite pleased with the rapid response and camaraderie of our composition.

    Shall we continue degachi then? Onward! Or in my case – mush!

  105. Claire says:

    Just the same for me/// The patio maple embodies pretty well the arts and the continuity of the hokku! …

  106. John Carley says:

    Looking good guys. Over on the other side we’re at pretty much the identical stage too. I wonder – does it feel rushed working at this pace. Or does it keep the buzz up? Later on I’d really like to pick your brains ‘cos I’m trying to get some thoughts down on the whole subject – pace of composition, ‘leadership’, turns vs head to head etc. 😉 J

  107. sandra says:

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    ****

    gurgling water
    to and fro, the farmer
    in his paddy field

    oh, how he loves to set
    her diamond earrings asway!

    love? don’t make me laugh,
    it’s nothing more than lust

    love? don’t make me laugh,
    we both know it’s pure lust

    licking his way
    from toe to top

  108. Claire says:

    a plus for this one, simple and enjoyable,

    oh, how he loves to set
    her diamond earrings asway

  109. batsword says:

    gurgling water
    to and fro, the farmer
    in his paddy field

    more rice for the maiden
    who brings happiness

    a deep bow
    for the perfect catch!

    the women pack their ports
    and head across the ditch

    a new adjustment to the sounds
    from the bathroom

    • Curious – what are ports?

    • white muslin curtains
      set loose a butterfly

      ****

      gurgling water
      to and fro, the farmer
      in his paddy field

      the women pack their ports
      and head across the ditch

      Some intuitive sense tells me this is the verse. I propose we follow it with this draft:

      Banksy’s Graffito
      makes a mockery of
      the whole affair

      This line-upm would move Love, uh, well, next. We could follow with a winter pair, or, end-of-love winter, or …

      Your thoughts, opinions, further submissions, all welcome.

    • Claire says:

      women pack (their) portmanteaux
      and head across the ditch

      it’s historical… (here, it is: yesterday the assembly was flooded with protesters)-
      Barbara’s haiku also has that peculiarity to be written out of the context, I can’t help thinking at one of Hiroshige ukiyo-e, the mules and men with their packs in the mountain snow – It has the same weight and lightness.
      As for portemanteau(x)!: the original is “porte-manteau(x)” :
      “porte” from the verb “porter”: to hang: “from what it hangs”, and a manteau is your coat: two diffferent words & registers linked, so there is a dash in between the words – the x is the plural mark. Sorry for the exlanations)

      • Thanks, Claire. Same sex marriage is “on the table” in governmental legislatures across the land here in the U.S. The subject’s even come up between construction workers chatting and gossiping as they do.

        Your inference to Hiroshige is encouraging, too. The reader *is* part of the renku poetry.

  110. sandra says:

    So what are ports?

    Portmanteaus? USB ports? um …. not sure how to comment on either verse until I understand the first one ….

  111. batsword says:

    pack your ports is aussie for pack your suitcase or portmanteau

    perhaps it should be in italics or quotation marks pack their “ports”

    the ditch is aussie slang for the Tasman sea to, between Ausgtralia and New Zealand
    Many Kiwis also cross the Tasman to Australia.

    just this week NZ, the first country to do so in hte Asia Pacific Region, has passed legislation for same sex marriage which is proving to be a bonus for the tourist and travel businesses. Many couples from Australia are crossing the ditch to get hitched!!!! So, this was my love topical interest link.

    I believe France has now passed similar legislation.

  112. sandra says:

    Would “portmanteaux” or “portmanteaus” be better? Bags? Valises?

    Can’t honestly say I’ve heard “ports” used like this before. Sorry, Barbara, but that bit of slang isn’t one that’s made it across the ditch (I didn’t query “the ditch” cause I knew what that was!! 🙂 ).

  113. The one syllable “bags” could make a good substitution surely, but meaning no offense, off the top of my head I’d have to say, “Sod the meaning entirely.” Or, more gently put by someone we hold dear, “Yeah – if it feels right it *is* right. If the colour and cadence move the piece forwards then the logic is irrelevant.”

    Now that I *have* offended everyone here, I’d ask you bear with me for a moment more:
    go to – http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2005/aug/05/israel.artsnews – and read the last paragraph. The moral of this story is that my response was totally intuitive. I hadn’t known a portmandoo from some gerbil glass! Interesting to search the subject and find this news story.

    I propose Mary and Claire would pursue a link to this trio, below, offering as many responses of person, place or thing as they come up with, no idea or implication being *wrong*. All verses remain provisional and open to team input and suggestion, after all.

    gurgling water
    to and fro, the farmer
    in his paddy field

    the women pack their ports
    and head across the ditch

    Banksy’s graffito
    makes a mockery of
    the whole affair

    “I’ve got an idea formin’ in me head”>/I>; it involves verses in hand.

    So, we remain non-season – Go!

  114. Claire says:

    impermanence
    the lungs of the earth ablaze
    at bay, our youth

    (Brazil’s Rainforest, our lungs…)

  115. Claire says:

    solar Winds
    are-we going to get tanned
    the colour of Mars?

  116. I should have said “two lines, non-season“. Sorry to confuse things –

    I haven’t quite figured out how to disperse 24 verse evenly between 5 participants yet, Sandra. 🙂
    I wouldn’t forbid you anything, kiddo, especially not the use of your discerning eye in reviewing our next selections.

    Hmm, might have to forego more colour, Claire, since we have two already I think …

  117. Claire says:

    do we go Mars? Solar winds
    our tanned impermanence

  118. Mary White says:

    their helium giggles
    watching Big Bang theory

  119. A clue as to what I had in mind for the third page:

    gurgling water
    to and fro, the farmer
    in his paddy field

    the women pack their ports
    and head across the ditch

    Banksy’s graffito
    makes a mockery of
    the whole affair

    (Mars; solar wind; big bang; what all
    place two lines in this slot)

    the cold moon
    (easing; staunching; hinders) the milk flow
    my infant’s hand meets mine / sandra

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts / barb

    non-season long

    non-season short

    An exercise in intervention if you’re willing. Come to think of it, we may want to avoid another pro-noun after the Banksy verse.

  120. Claire says:

    they merge to the food truck
    a scent of organic beefburger
    (the new way of life : food truck & organic)

  121. batsword says:

    Willie, we have had a baby here before but guess you think it’s far enough back?
    And, I think we are to avoid anymore rising things….

    • Trying to be helpful, I caught that quick response “rising” suggestion after I posted; close to those koi obviously, but easy to adjust. Still, not a choice until the offers are all in. Keep them coming!

      “Baby”, a vernacular, idiomatic usage, to “infant”; such a great verse to go to waste, and in this heightened context, *plus* the response with “quilts”. Killer stuff IMHO. I think we’re OK unless any hackles are duly raised. What say you, my fine renju?

      We *could* seek an expert opinion, too. I say, you there my fine fellow, could you tear yourself away from the Sunshine for a moment?

  122. Claire says:

    The original draft was

    they merge to the food truck
    the midday scent of organic butter beefburger (too long, I had to cut it)

    i wanted the “merge” to avoid being static again & to enter a “scent”, hum, what about it??? Now, I like Sandra’s idea of blogging the food truck, too :

    they merge to the food truck
    a guy in tie-dye pants blogs it

    right now, half past six am (i don’t mind of any offer… Willy, please, choose what you seems adequate in the whole lot…)

    Sorry, what is IMHO?…

  123. sandra says:

    Hi Claire,

    “they merge to” isn’t quite English … perhaps you mean “they converge on”??

  124. Claire says:

    Hi Sandra,

    Yes, I meant, to converge… A bit long,

    their converging paths
    the latest in retro food truck

    they are queuing to a food truck
    a tie-dye pants blogger (…)

    they queue to a food truck
    a guy in tie-dye pants blogs it

    But then, I’m just realizing, what about the Bansky’s graffito??

  125. Claire says:

    they move forward to..

  126. converging on the lunch truck
    the scent of shawrma beef

    Thanks for letting the dust settle, Claire. The particular beef I proffer is an Middle Eastern “take out”, if you will. An interesting turn representing love to international tensions in a region of diverse interests. I wonder if scent is strong enough a word, for that matter. Rhythmically pleasing, however, the whole set, i.e. Let’s see what happens if we combine another, evolving vignette:

    gurgling water
    to and fro, the farmer
    in his paddy field

    the women pack their ports
    and head across the ditch

    Banksy’s graffito
    makes a mockery of
    the whole affair

    converging on the lunch truck
    the scent of shawrma beef

    cold moon
    sapping the milk’s flow
    the infant’s hand in mine

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    Comments, if any, if you please.

  127. Claire says:

    converging on the lunch truck
    the scent of shawrma beef

    As far as I can see, that’s ok for me, Willy.. cooking that beef (with onions and the sort) appears to be a whole day time so the scent, … why not the aroma (here, we would say, “fumet”) should be pervasively. “converging around” (if one can say so) + aroma and this ku ends to be finely tied together,

    converging on the lunch truck
    the aroma of shawarma beef

    converging can be related to beef and to people at the time .
    Beef, milk, quilts, here is a pretty feminine part of the renku. Apart from that, porte-manteayx are pegs here, and not packs, once again, it’a amusing to see how words change their meanings in what’s now becoming a ” global language”!)

  128. Right, Claire, thanks for that – I’m catching a whiff of my feminine side, and lovin’ every minute of it. 😉

    One day until my weekend, and two verses non-season until we close this side. In the balance of offers Mary and Sandra lag behind a little so I’d ask if they would take the last pair between them.

    Competitive, collaborative, by turns – the tone of the side’s movement has converged from sardonic, to serious, to down right mysterious. We could be justified with a verse absent of people to follow somewhere before we finish the poem in Spring.

    Hmm, “pines” are non-committal, season wise anyway. I *did* once know a blue spruce that took a maternal attitude toward my garden …

  129. Mary White says:

    Sorry Willie, I can’t see which verse is the maeku for offers? The quilts?

  130. Here ya go –

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s hand in mine

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

  131. sandra says:

    cold moon
    sapping the milk’s flow
    the infant’s hand in mine

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    while all day a bird
    opens the library door
    with a swoosh

    disappointingly
    the pianist’s fingers
    short and fat

    searching for a word
    that fits all the clues …
    Nagasaki

    (in fact, we could do what we want with the last line – God/god, genocide, diabetes; or something lighter – wheelbarrow, breakfast, donkey, jazz, curglaff (a real word that means: The shock felt in bathing when one first plunges into the cold water), you gotta love it!

  132. Mary White says:

    Thanks Willie

    just how old
    are the empty maggot husks
    under the wafers?

  133. cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s hand in mine

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    disappointingly
    the pianist’s fingers
    short and fat

    I worked through the offers to arrive at this. However, do we commit a faux pas with “hand” in the verse before last? if we deal strictly with context, I think not. The movement feels right, quelling the dramatic moon to work toward a more quiet pause at the end of Ha, especially effective in a limited framework of eight stanzas to the side. A compelling example of “scent” linking, too, tangential yet somehow logically (intuitively?) correct and the curt summation of L3 decisively setting up the finale. In the end the meter was what won out though I could be *way* off the mark. Assuming this is our choice, as a response our next stanza might avoid “content” linking entirely so as not to spoil the effect. Not exactly an easy task, but one I think we’re up to.

    I liked the “searching for a word” idea, too, though to me it smacked somewhat of narrative despite the ingenious “Nagasaki” at its end – how, I wondered, would we arrive at a summation in so short a framework? I think this is a fine stand-alone ‘ku.

    Mary, daunting as I make it sound, if you’d like to take a run at our conclusion to Ha, feel free. Certainly our team would offer support, or we might provide assistance with offers of our own. in the end a decision by committee could prove to be key for this difficult transition.

    “Curglaff”? Until today, the whole freakin’ season has been “curglaff”. Right now? We’re headed to 70 degrees plus, Fahrenheit. Oh, be still my trembling heart!

    • So, realizing I’d gone mad, I borrowed some saving suggestions from the chap next door –

      cold moon
      sapping my milk’s flow
      the infant’s hand in mine

      records remain secreted
      in finely stitched quilts

      disappointingly
      the pianist’s fingers
      short and fat

      infant’s breath (in/and/on/with) mine

      the pianist’s arches, broad and flat

      the pianist’s nostrils, somewhat flat (flared nostrils was always taken as a sign of ‘breeding’ over here!).

      🙂 J

  134. Just for grins and giggles –

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s hand in mine

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    disappointingly
    the pianist’s fingers
    short and fat

    —-

    a monk defrocked
    pissing on the Buddha

    an extra special trip
    to buy more pants

    they say the giant pine
    lives for a thousand years

  135. sandra says:

    Just as I was dropping off to sleep last night, I realised what I’d done with hand/fingers, apologised mentally and thought, Willie will be kind and just ignore it, whew. So you can imagine my surprise this morning!

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s hand in mine

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    trembling
    on the pianist’s back
    a long hair

    (a true story from the first classical recital I attended)

    disappointingly
    the cellist’s knees
    knobbly

    lady cellist? should we avoid body parts altogether?

    too many ways / so many ways
    to bring the planet
    to a halt

    arranging
    the bookshelf
    by colour

  136. “Should we avoid body parts all together?”

    No, I don’t think so, this being a perfect metaphor amidst other interpretations.

    We had a suggestion –

    cold moon
    sapping my milk flow
    the infant’s breath on mine

    Previously I had some doubt about placement of the possessive “my” and “mine” in the verse. But it’s the endearingly tactile “breath” that resolves the question in my mind, the first person presence less strident, and well, the scene classically oriented.

    Move to a subject of similar high status –

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    then on to the common rebuttal-

    Disappointedly
    the pianist’s fingers
    short and fat

    The next stanza might easily be almost a throwaway line, calming, in preparation for the quick close of Jo. Leastways, that’s my take on it. 🙂

  137. batsword says:

    disappointingly
    the pianist’s fingers
    short and fat/s ns

    it’s goat, she said,
    eat it!

    a crotchet or a minim
    makes no difference

    here comes another day
    of sticky date pudding

  138. Claire says:

    a Wind chime echoes
    the rustle of the wind

  139. Claire says:

    a wind chime echoes
    the cork of a bottle

  140. sandra says:

    Um, I believe this position belongs to Mary …
    “Mary, daunting as I make it sound, if you’d like to take a run at our conclusion to Ha, feel free.”

  141. Mary White says:

    Hi Just arrived.

    birdsong hooked
    into the long slow riff

    I was listening to David Sylvian yesterday and the birdsong outside really added to it.

  142. Claire says:

    Just a so good link… and soothing shift after all our turnabouts!

  143. Aw shoot – non-season in this position. It’s spring in the upper Midwest US, belatedly, and I’m hearing birdsong in the oddest places. Quite welcome, actually.

    I like the feel of that, Mar’; perhaps a different take on it, some odd juxtaposing, two syllables, like a creaky wheel or something? Good choice sans any people.

  144. Mary White says:

    the peal of the kettle
    hooked into a slow riff

  145. Mary white says:

    Will offer more later this evening. Bit busy.

  146. Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    all round a tin-roof hut

    in a cheval mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    ****

    chased away
    by the cameras
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from shadow
    to gulp at heated air

    the sound of the fan
    it clicks this way, then that –
    our legs entwined

    drunk dialing the number –
    no longer in service

    on Hyde Park Corner
    the soothsayer tells us
    a forgotten tale

    so late the hour
    this tangle of twisting streets

    nearer the outpost
    flurries of plum petals blur
    a house on a hill

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    ****

    gurgling water
    to and fro, the peasant
    in his paddy field

    the women pack their ports
    and head across the ditch

    Banksy’s graffito
    makes a mockery of
    the whole affair

    converging on the lunch truck
    a whiff of shawrma beef

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s breath on mine

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    disappointingly
    the pianist’s fingers
    short and fat

    wind in a bottle
    hooked into a slow riff

    Sometime today between sanding plaster compound and eating the dust I thought of this.
    “whooooo”. (That was me blowing my nose.)

    Whether or not Mary gives the thumbs-up on this variation on her theme we still have an excellent core verse to work with.

    So, moving forward, what’s next? if I’ve learned anything these past weeks, it’s to write with honesty. And if honesty prevails, so shall our poem.

    We all know the drill; we move rapidly and unambiguously to a quick close. Well, a little allusive ambiguity might do, but avoiding ostentation or confusing verbiage. Simple, aye? Not as easy as it looks on paper though ours is an all-star team.

    I’ve copied the draft of the text above with some minor suggested edits. A fool’s errand, probably, because they are only suggestions, but if we ignore the distraction the poem laid out in it’s entirety may prove useful to check against verse structure, cadences, topics, etc. Certainly we’ll have time to review in committee but for now expediency seems to have proven key to our success.

    Shall we remain competitive then? Right. Off we go, two verses non-season, two verses spring, blossom and ageku!

    Our

  147. sandra says:

    disappointingly
    the pianist’s fingers
    short and fat

    wind in a bottle
    hooked into a slow riff

    changing gears
    for the last corner before home
    deciding to double-clutch

    the closer to home we get
    the more empty the land
    seems to become

    lining up the books
    by colour
    instead of height

  148. Claire says:

    in the waxed dresser
    nana’ s long-timed dentures
    chipped

    for his sake
    a pen, pusher tries to rub out
    the past times colors

  149. Mary White says:

    Thats grand Willie. Claire and I are old pals. A duet!

    a wind chime echoes
    the cork of a bottle
    +
    birdsong hooked
    into the long slow riff
    =
    wind in a bottle
    hooked into a slow riff

    in the waxed dresser
    Nana’s time worn dentures
    chipped

    A wee tweak Claire?

  150. batsword says:

    wind in a bottle
    hooked into a slow riff

    smoke gets in your eyes
    when dancing cheek to
    cheek at the Lido

  151. batsword says:

    wind in a bottle
    hooked into a slow riff

    down the hatch…
    fresh orange juice
    with a dash of vodka

  152. batsword says:

    wind in a bottle
    hooked into a slow riff

    the best malt ever
    was demolished
    at the wake

  153. Claire says:

    Yes, Willy, you are right, time worn is much better to explain those dentures were chipped! It’s a true story, by the way!
    Yes, Mary, our ideas have mixed : nnothing can stop the wind!

  154. wind in a bottle
    hooked to a long, slow riff

    the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake

    Lol! A couple of tweaks by me – if you agree with these, then once more – Go!

  155. batsword says:

    yes, that sounds good:)

  156. sandra says:

    wind in a bottle
    hooked to a long, slow riff

    the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake

    clearing out her dresser
    the smell of face powder

    a pair of bone cufflinks
    in his carved box

    one new suit and two old
    on the rail in his manrobe

  157. Mary White says:

    laid out in the dress
    bought for the christening

    This happened when my mother in law died a week before my daughter’s christening.

  158. Claire says:

    Sorry, i can’t realize where we are now! Is-it that?

    wind in a bottle
    hooked to a long, slow riff

    the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake

    time worn
    Nana’s dentures chipped

    there is a slow evening waltz
    above the roofs

    but they rejoice
    t’was Paul Revere’s ride

  159. sandra says:

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty!

  160. sandra says:

    in amongst everything
    the smell of golf balls

  161. wind in a bottle
    hooked to a long, slow riff

    the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty!

    #23, spring blossom – Go!

  162. Claire says:

    Wow! Great, all those offers!

    Are-we due to finish the lot to-day???

  163. Claire says:

    Trying to concentrate : its Mayday, here – a 1974 film on the 3rd while i’m trying…
    La gifle (the slap..) (Lino Ventura – Isabelle Adjani – Annie Girardeau / a Claude Pinoteau film)
    My cavalier King Charles is having his treat of the day eating all the biscottes…

  164. Mary White says:

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty!

    flipped this way
    and that the crab apple
    blossom

    promising
    jelly quivering
    crab apple blossom

  165. Claire says:

    clusters
    of purple vines of China
    the window wide open

    in the background
    a camellia-printed print
    her first role-play

    in the background
    a tulip-printed fabric
    her first role-play, there

  166. batsword says:

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty!

    swaying branches
    spring dust from wattles
    covers concrete steps

  167. batsword says:

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty!

    freedom, time now
    for raking up our fallen
    camellia blooms

  168. batsword says:

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty!

    filled with joy
    thespians mingle between
    forsythia hedges

  169. John Carley says:

    Damn. My team are only at #20. I should really invent some sort of ‘rule’ that throws the cat amongst the pigeons, wallaby to the bandicoots, or whatever, in order to run some intereference here.

    Did I neglect to say that every Tankako has to have at least one verse in which the letter X is followed by a caesura? Or should the be a ‘seizure’ 🙂 J

  170. I think Claire is on to something.

    “child/children”, “blossom backdrop” , “play-acting” … what does that remind me of? Barb caught on with her “thespians”. 😉

    As for all the genus names of flowers, I’m currently at a loss. May Day in these northern temperate climes and up to nine inches of snow forecast in the next twenty-four hours. I think this position calls for the hardier, fruit bearing cherry with attendant blossom.

    Ahh, the fleeting carelessness of youth …

  171. batsword says:

    freedom, time now
    to embrace the joy
    of cherry blossoms

  172. batsword says:

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty!

    freedom … time now
    to embrace the joy
    from cherry blossoms

  173. Mary White says:

    I not sure but should this verse not be a blossom verse and not a flower verse?

  174. Mary White says:

    I mean should it be a blossom verse and not another bloom like daffodil, rose etc?

  175. the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake / barbara

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty! / sandra

    the littlest child
    against backdrops of blossom
    acts out her play / claire

    saving our seeds
    in little secret pockets / mary

    A tentative layout of Jo for your perusal. “Tentative” for the concern, not least of which, involves capturing the intent of Claire’s initial offer, and, the progression of verses herein in the confinement of only four spaces – I wonder if the two pair of stanzas, fine in their own right, come off as hastily cobbled together. I may be putting the cart before the horse, however, so I’ll keep quiet now to let you decide and offer comments.

    • Mary White says:

      I think it’s a very good ‘fast finish’ and very happy if my verse is used for the ageku.

      Sent from my iPhone

  176. Claire says:

    So, Willy : as far I can read here, the content as a whole seems pretty interesting : the whole poem from the Mount Fuji is being illustrated -on all sorts of roads, our ramblings…- to tighten (is-it right to say “tighten?) to seeds, as if we were entering it as individual characters (at the same time, ithis coulp open a new draft of stanzas, if not another whole poem).
    Concerning my two stanzas’s being drafted in a single one such as you did… Hum, what about it, Willy, shouldn’t-it be yours? It ‘s nice, however, to have a come down on act playing as the poem keeps its Japanese illustrious beginning… As if the loop was looped…
    So, I wouldn’t mind if this stanza was yours.. It’s up to you to decide… When I said “her first role-play, I wasn’t thinking back to the child, or, was-it so in some unknown place?
    So, that should be good to have your name on it, too.

  177. sandra says:

    Ummm …..

    little/littlest/little …. playing skittles with these last verses Willie? 🙂

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty!

    acting out her play
    against a backdrop of blossoms
    the adopted child

    saving this year’s seeds (last year’s)
    in our secret pockets

    Just some ideas

    • Yes, the ‘little’ problem. It does wonders for Mary’s verse and it’s scansion (have to refer to my “scansion for dummies” link ’til I get the designations right. Thank our public schools) but I’ve been unsure of how to bring Claire’s intent to the surface. It bugs me.

      From her offers I drew a small child play acting some imaginary scene, but putting it to paper without overwhelming the regular proportions of meter (metre?) without sinking the ship has been frightful. I had to walk away. And I’ve just used “without” twice in a sentence.

      I’ll be back in a moment …

  178. batsword says:

    We already have the word secreted earlier, and also little.

  179. batsword says:

    some thoughts, trying to avoid “the” again, and the use of two possessives, and getting rid of “secret”:

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty!

    precocious children
    role-playing against
    backdrops of blossom

    saving our seeds
    in individual pockets

  180. … to note “the adopted child” fulfills the rhythmical quota, if there were one, and better evokes that solitary figure in the garden (now I’m interpreting ;p). I just wouldn’t want to “murder” her with descriptive overkill. Ooh. 😮

    So, who is the audience the little child plays for?

  181. Sorry, ya’ll, I thought I had a day off. Where were we? Oh, yeah …

    the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake / barbara

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty! / sandra

    in the background
    cherry blossom fabric
    her first role-play / claire

    saving our seeds
    in individual pockets / mary

    I think we’re obliged to (cherry) blossom, having had plum earlier, nor does the schema allow for flowers. A manageable syllable count in in the raw draft above, but what’s your take on the story there? Maybe the problem is I’ve had distractions all day. I like the idea of an “adopted child”, amusing herself all alone in an imaginary world. That was close to the first implication I gathered.

    I might as well address it now, but I literally hadn’t noticed any reversion issues with “secret” in ageku due in part to the length of separation between its precursor and especially not in light of ageku’s powers of summation. Mary’s original is commendable in that regard, though we could sort that out in time. It’s the penultimate verse I can’t wrap my head around. I sure could use some help with your takes on it.

  182. Claire says:

    And, why not keep nana as we are nearing true characters? It would suit well Mary”s following “our”

    Nana
    against a backdrop of blossoms
    acts out her play

    Good balance — As it’s a blossom verse, the blossoms should stay in-between, …it seems so, or…?.. Hum!
    Just as I feel it, the content of this stanza is enough, is-it, is-it not?!? I dunno!
    (She is just part of the hokku… the hut, the setting?)

  183. sandra says:

    acting out her play
    amid blossoms
    the adopted child

    never forgetting
    she’s adopted
    even at blossom time

    we have infant and baby (both mine, ha!) and now child. This second suggestion removes that explicit reading of small child.

    never forgetting
    she’s orphaned
    even at blossom time

    even amid the blossoms
    the hurt
    of being orphaned

    which is taking us into different territory, but still …

    • Mary White says:

      Claire, a suggested tweak- could you child be an ‘only’ child? I like the feel of only child – pathos. An adopted child can have sibs.

      Sent from my iPhone

  184. Mary White says:

    carefully saving our seeds
    in calico pockets

  185. Claire says:

    a cherry blossom curtain (if theater)…

  186. Claire says:

    Yes, a single one… I’m in doubts, now!!!
    A classroom on a stage…

  187. Claire says:

    The calico pockets… Organic and secret!

  188. Mary White says:

    I love your verse in progress Claire. Brings happy memories of Granny’s old curtains used to rig up an impromptu stage, or hospital cubical or ship’s sail.

  189. batsword says:

    I’m not keen on any more babies or small children

  190. Hi all, the strangest weather patterns here. Ice and snow took out telephone lines and playing havoc with internet service – tomorrow, approaching 70 degrees!

    Seems we’ve all become full of doubt about our progression. Such a shame. So let’s start over.
    Degachi for blossom, then.

  191. sandra says:

    It would be nice if you entered one too, Willie.

  192. Claire says:

    kamisusou!
    from dawn to dusk blooming
    from dawn to dusk withering

    a sudden heat wave
    the sky is shimmering
    with cherry blossoms

    a stroke of heat
    the cherry petals scatter
    the ground all over

    the treacherous heat!
    cherry petals blow across
    the ground

    the swift ascent
    of wild roses
    it ‘s a blow of heat

    swiftly ascending
    the wild roses
    in a blow of heat

  193. Claire says:

    Sorry! The Japanese language and i!

    kasumisou!
    from dawn to dusk blooming
    from dawn to dusk withering

  194. batsword says:

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty!

    bowing with joy
    thespians mingle between
    the cherry blossom

    our seeds kept safe
    in calico pockets

  195. Mary White says:

    That’s lovely too.

  196. And how do you like that –

    the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty

    kasumisou!
    from dawn to dusk blooming
    from dawn to dusk withering

    our seeds kept safe
    in calico pockets

    I *like* it!

  197. Mary White says:

    Kasumisou —Gypsophila—-Innocent heart

  198. Oops! just found it, too. Not a punk rock band. 🙂

    Great phrasing and allusion (not just baby’s breath). Should we tinker a bit?

  199. Mary White says:

    delightful and elegant

  200. Claire says:

    sorry again, who can suppress this post?!
    (dicentra spectabilis vivid pink/white blossom is a heart… Kasumi because it doesn’t bloom with too warm , not too hot or too cold temlperatures.
    Doesn’t suit?

    • To our sorrow, not. 😦

      We’re following the tradition indicated by the tankako’s creator, as are our dueling neighbors.

      “Dead on the money” is idiomatic slang, referring to being totally accurate, like “hitting a bullseye”! As is your verse, whatever the blossom, “tightening the focus” so eloquently. 🙂

  201. Claire says:

    Is’nt-it accurate, too…

    Paris in tow
    The PCF Mayday lily
    with a red scarf

    (to-days demonstration, PCF is the communist party -)

    the old prunus
    dark-rose blooming but its spines
    lurking out

    shaking a duster
    the obese lady
    her tulip printed apron

  202. Claire says:

    shaking a duster
    an overmuch lady
    tulip-printed-aproned

    ! (doesn’t seem much accurate).. to be aproned…?
    Who, who?

  203. Claire says:

    a last one:

    the Park Avenue
    window sits on the park’s
    willow fluffs

  204. sandra says:

    I very much like Willie’s small edit of the dawn to dusk verse. It feels very right in the overall context of our long poem as we’ve had classical references sprinkled throughout. One of the short-hands for cherry blossom in Japanese verse in its impermanence – just like human life – so celebrate it while it’s here!

    I think it’s a lovely end to our poem:

    the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty

    cherry blossom!
    from dawn to dusk blooming
    from dawn to dusk withering

    our seeds kept safe
    in calico pockets

    Now, then, sabaki, down to the hard part …. I always find it helpful at this stage to print out the entire poem as we have it and work on a hard copy. So that’s what I’m doing now …

  205. batsword says:

    I, too, prefer the cherry blossom!/from dawn to dusk blooming/fom dawn to dusk withering
    Perhaps take off one of the exclamation marks?

  206. Let’s cross post then – you never know what you’ll get.

    Tanako 2 rough draft

    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    all round a tin-roof hut

    in a cheval mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    ****

    chased away
    by the cameras
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from shadow
    to gulp at heated air

    the sound of the fan
    it clicks this way, then that –
    our legs entwined

    drunk dialing the number
    no longer in service

    on Hyde Park Corner
    the soothsayer tells us
    a forgotten tale

    so late the hour
    this tangle of twisting streets

    nearer the outpost
    flurries of plum petals blur
    a house on a hill

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    ****

    gurgling water
    to and fro, a peasant
    in his paddy field

    the women pack their ports
    and head across the ditch

    Banksy’s graffito
    makes a mockery of
    the whole affair

    converging on the lunch truck
    a whiff of shawrma beef

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s breath on mine

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    disappointingly
    the pianist’s fingers
    short and fat

    wind in a bottle
    hooked to a long, slow riff

    ****

    the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty

    cherry blossom!
    from dawn to dusk blooming
    from dawn to dusk withering

    our seeds kept safe
    in calico pockets

    Claire, Willie, Mary, Sandra,

    Barbara, Willie, Sandra, Mary, Claire, Willie, Barbara, Mary,

    Claire, Barbara, Willie, Claire, Sandra, Barbara, Sandra, Mary

    Barbara, Sandra, Claire, Mary

  207. John Carley says:

    A request –

    Hi everybody, I am currently trying to draft some chapters for a putative paper version of the Renku Reckoner website. One thing that needs addressing is the variety of ways in which the composition of a poem may be conducted.

    I would be very grateful indeed for any and all feedback of whatever sort on this general issue. Either posted here in the tankako 2 strand. Over in the takako 1 strand, or direct to my mail box via johncarely at virginmedia dot com

    I’m not asking for highly structured essays or the like, just a sketched indication of the kind of things that pop up when presented with the prospect of composing a this or that poem.

    Is it better to work in small numbers and just bounce verses back and forth freestyle?
    Is it good to have a sabaki?
    If so, is direction desirable?
    If so, is editing acceptable?
    What does it take to lead a poem?
    What would it take for *you* to feel comfortable doing ditto?

    These are indicative only – absolutely anything is good feedback
    One specific does come to mind: this poem, and the other over on tankako 1, has been one of a five or six recently that have deliberately attempted a fast turnaround between verses. How does that feel? Does it have any material impact on how things turn out?

    For context: the first time I participated in a formalish renku I was absolutely scandalized at the sheer brass neck of the person pushing, shoving, and shunting the work of others around. Please don’t feel obliged to be polite to people who put themselves up as ‘poem leaders’. They both deserve and need criticism. 😉 J

  208. Mary white says:

    Will do that. I will look back at the poems I have led and see what worked well and where difficulties arose. That will be an interesting exercise for me.

  209. sandra says:

    Hi all, here are some suggestions/queries:

    Suggested title: The Painter’s Hat

    v1:
    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the painter’s hat

    v5/6: It could be that one needs a change in pacing/tone; side by side they seem to flatten one another.

    v6: gulping at heated air
    koi rise from shadow

    v8: no dash at the end of the first line. (the verse above it has one) … does dialling have a double l? (probably not in america, but would you trust a country to define spelling that opts for “plow”?)

    v9/10/11 I’m happy to accept the sabaki’s ruling that this trio doesn’t sit too tightly together (ie, the third verse doesn’t shift enough). We’ve got corner/streets/outpost/house …. forgotten/tangle/blur …

    v14 Doubtful about “ports” for 2 reasons: 1) It may not be understood by readers, hang most of us didn’t understand it, being pretty much specialised local dialect 2) It’s a “love” verse but if you can’t understand it, how will you know that the poem is conforming?

    the women pack their veils (or some other bride-y thing, confetti)
    and head across the ditch

    v15 I wonder about this as a “love” verse too. Banksy is rather a political figure so “affair” in connection with his name would perhaps be read as something of that ilk?

    v17
    cold moon
    sapping my milk
    the infant’s eyes on mine

    Partly because I wondered about “wind in a bottle” (v20) clashing with breath … but then do “eyes” and “fingers” (v19) create a problem? But also because “my milk’s flow” seemed a bit awkward.

    v24 Love the verse but it just seems too redolent of v18

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    our seeds kept safe
    in calico pockets

    Yes, they are six verses apart, but gee, they’re similar – records/seeds; secreted/safe; stitched quilts/calico pockets.

    Look forward to other comments …

  210. I wasn’t sure we were on the same page –

    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    all round a tin-roof hut

    in a cheval mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    ****

    chased away
    by the cameras
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from shadow
    to gulp at heated air

    the sound of the fan
    it clicks this way, then that –
    our legs entwined

    drunk dialing the number
    no longer in service

    on Hyde Park Corner
    the soothsayer tells us
    a forgotten tale

    so late the hour
    this tangle of twisting streets

    nearer the outpost
    flurries of plum petals blur
    a house on a hill

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    ****

    gurgling water
    to and fro, a peasant
    in his paddy field

    the women pack their ports
    and head across the ditch

    Banksy’s graffito
    makes a mockery of
    the whole affair

    converging on the lunch truck
    a whiff of shawrma beef

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s breath on mine

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    disappointingly
    the pianist’s fingers
    short and fat

    wind in a bottle
    hooked to a long, slow riff

    ****

    the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty

    cherry blossom!
    from dawn to dusk blooming
    from dawn to dusk withering

    our seeds kept safe
    in calico pockets

    Darn. The posting box is a mere slit. I’ll have to post to see this.

  211. batsword says:

    Sandra brings up many accurate points of query. I agree with most of them.Looks like we have quite a bit more work still to do.

    I will change ports but it cannot be veils.
    Ageku: Perhaps we could use individual pockets? Still too close?
    V#9,10,11 do need some work. I couldn’t get a fluidity of thought from them.

    converging on the lunch truck
    spelling error: a whiff of shawrma beef Shawarma

    dialling here too:)

    Title Suggestions:

    Through The Mist
    The Painter’s Hat (if verse revised per Sandra’s suggestion)
    Thin Veils of Frost
    Rise From Shadow

    Will await to hear from Willie, where we go to now???

  212. #1 – I’d retain the hat of the painter for the higher register of tone its cadence.

    # 5, 6 – I have more of a problem with #5 – I did notice a little bump, too, but we needed to move on, of course. Transposing # 6’s lines sounds more choppy still. Lost the cadence. What to do? Nothing, perhaps, for the moment at least.

    # 8 – No dash here (originally a typo some number of posts back). Do you spell “dialing” with two L’s? How very odd. 😉

    # 9, 10, 11 – Good point about the “forgotten/tangle/blur”. Reading again – Eh … more of a bump that always nagged at me between 11 and 12 than any place else in the poem. Another quickie (11) to be dealt with later as you may recall, I hadn’t actually given the trio “approval”. In reality, I never was satisfied with “a house on a hill”, hoping we could attempt another take on that line. I added the verb “blur” to make the verse less static, though, in conjunction with “house”, it reads a bit clunky if I’m merely reading for critical analysis rather than enjoyment.

    You needn’t feel obliged to address me as sabaki. I’m just some schmuck doing a job no one else would. 🙂

    # 15, 16 – Non-conforming – that’s why I love this pair! Isn’t renku verse supposed to hold multiple implications, making the reader’s interpretation part of the composition process? We’ve *had* a conventional pair in the second sheet so why not be innovative for once, I say.

    Now, if you were to take each four verses as they occur, does not each quartet stand independently on its own power? Try reading the poem that way once. Or, just read each page independently. The movement within each grouping is superior to much that has gone before in our compositions, I believe. Which means, we’re getting *better*. The same goes for the majority of cadences we have established, the prosody over all – they make this sucka’ *move*. Granted, I speak for myself when I mention an overly critical eye. Honestly, how can I not? I do it all the time, to the point I have to walk away or become numb to the whole proceedings, losing sight of the “movement” entirely.

    If we were to change “the women” in any way I’d have them pack their bags. I’d instinctively understood ports’, however, through context and the sheer power of the verse. Though even ‘bags’ creates a drag on the original’s sound.

    # 17 – cold moon / sapping my milk’s flow / the infant’s eyes on mine. I think “eye’s” is perfectly acceptable. That’s all I’d change, otherwise, again we lose that rhythmical quality. Yes, it is rather awkward addressing a woman who is breastfeeding; I usually avoid it.

    Breath/ wind; eyes / fingers. Which are more congruous?

    #24 – I’ll reiterate and say, even more so, that I don’t notice any … regression to ‘quilts”. And after all, ageku’s function can be one of hearkening back in summation. A killer verse that, strengthened with the alliteration imposed by Barbara. Heck, have you wiki’d calico; textile?

    “These colorful, small-patterned printed fabrics gave rise to the use of the word calico to describe a cat coat color: “calico cat”. “ A wealth of pertinent information!

  213. batsword says:

    the women pack their gowns
    and head across the ditch
    ???
    If Banksy stays, then the g sounds are rather nice.

  214. batsword says:

    or

    women pack bridal gowns
    and head across the ditch

  215. Claire says:

    Reading and reading again, I’m not too keen on changing something at all! i I just like the cadence such as it is, each ku has its own rythm enabling people to have a different image, scene on stage… at each different stanza.
    I would keep the PORTS, pack + ports has a cadence of its own when reading and it has some curiosity, “what is-it about? (a link to the law? Why not, just for the present – yesterday, people moaned and demonstrated with the PCH on the Bastille, and others harshy complained opposed(again) tthe past : un papa et une maman!
    I wouldf keep Barbara’s wonderful image of maternity or saintity such as itb is, too except that, “sapping the flow of the my milk” would intensify, rendering it still more beautiful (but, well, that’s my own reading with my own accent), and it brings a rythm in the casdence with “the hat of the painter”.
    “Records” and “calico” are probably of the same texture when read but one is past and the other future, they are transitions in the whole text, or, wouldn’t the ageku be a bit more lively if beginnig with, “our calico pockets”?
    If negative there is, it should be the words we could judge out of context, of some too modern substance, let’s say, inbox, dialing, but “dialing refers well to the preceding link… And, these words are in the end, a way to situate the poem into the present time as a reference to its wrinting.

    so late a hour?
    stopped at the outpost:…, standing at the outpost? Just for some cadence inside a same ku, but, then, I’m not sure…

    Well, here’s is my feeling… …

    Thanks to Sandra to have deleted : the kamisusou is a dar yellow kamisu lily, and not all the pink heart I had thought first.

  216. sandra says:

    #1 – I’d retain the hat of the painter for the higher register of tone its cadence.
    You go for it Willie; I have to study up on “higher reigister of tone”. Really, I’m a very plain writer so tend to miss things like this.

    # 5
    the cameras
    chasing some celeb
    in front of startled shoppers

    the cameras
    chasing some B-lister
    in front of startled shoppers

    # 11 –
    flurries of plum petals
    blur the soldiers
    on their way home

    blurring the soldiers
    on their way home
    flurries of plum petals

    (factory workers, weekend soldiers, something gritty anyway)

    # 15, 16 – Non-conforming – that’s why I love this pair! Isn’t renku verse supposed to hold multiple implications, making the reader’s interpretation part of the composition process?

    Thanks for reminding me of that, and for the advice to read the verses as quartets.

    Okay, I give in on “ports”. 🙂

    # 17 – cold moon / sapping my milk’s flow / the infant’s eyes on mine.

    Okay.

    #24 – … And after all, ageku’s function can be one of hearkening back in summation.

    Yes, I had forgotten (if I ever knew) that the ageku can hearken back. I prefer “calico”, just relieves that sameness a bit.

    • Within yours, Sandra, for everyone to respond to:

      #1 – I’d retain the hat of the painter for the higher register of tone (and for) its cadence.
      “You go for it Willie; I have to study up on “higher reigister of tone”. Really, I’m a very plain writer so tend to miss things like this.”

      Oh, quit. You’d write circles around me. Umm – a more classical tone? Less abrupt? For its phonic qualities?

      Besides trying to appear sometimes as a mini-me of the man next door (what’s he doing over there?) I have to reveal that I’ve been a hobbyist musician most of my life, even getting paid once in a while. I’ve played in marching and jazz bands, fronted blues groups playing harp (harmonica) Chicago style, was even the token white boy in a soul/R&B/funk band for awhile. Maybe not so odd that I strive for musicality in linked verse. It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got swing!

      #5 – Shoot, I think we might have nailed it (struck it precisely) already. My OCD is a little shaken by the structure of its lines, is all. Barb would know.

      #11 –

      a journalistic rendition of barb’s offer – love that visual contrast – tsukeku links with its setting, and an emotional tenor that the “butterfly” may have lacked earlier. A step further into present participle – watcha think, mates?

      flurries of plum petals
      blurring the soldiers
      on their way home

      #15, 16 –

      Wanna arm wrestle?

      #17 –

      It’s not easy to find a good breastfeeding verse. Is she the mother or a nursemaid? Where is the father?

      cold moon / sapping my milk’s flow / the infant’s eyes on mine.

      The “eye’s” have it. I mean, for the refinement of emotional impact as well as the unique subject.

      I’m a man. I can only contend with one subject at a time. My wife said so. So then I’ll now proceed to the matter of “fingers” and uchikoshi.

      cold moon
      sapping my milk’s flow
      the infant’s eyes on mine

      records remain secreted
      in finely stitched quilts

      disappointingly
      the pianist’s fingers
      short and fat

      The pianist’s skills are inadequate to find the truth in the piece, to master it. So is an issue of kannonbiraki in renku, returning to the same topic in uchikoshi, the verse before last. Human body parts? Where’d I put that renga topics list? I see we have “alchoholic beverages” covered … “body”. There’s a tract on separation here somewhere, sarikirai. (sp)

      wind in a bottle
      hooked to a long, slow riff

      two verses removed from “the infant’s *breath* on mine”. This is a different circumstance, not created by humans. Bugger – we may have to go with “breath”.

      #24 –

      I read through again, and Gol’dang it, I still didn’t notice a connection between “records remain secreted” and “our seeds kept safe” until you pointed it out. If we had broken a rule, would only five verses separation be required in a 24 stanza Tankako? It seems mostly conjecture and interpretation at this point. I *do* believe Gol’dang should be spelled with a capital “G”.

      • Seriously, though, do *you* spell dialing with two “L’s”? Dialling … that’s not so odd.

        Also, two more tweaks were suggested:

        converging on the lunch truck
        a whiff of shawarma beef

        cold moon
        sapping my milk’s flow
        the infant’s breath with mine

        A preferred spelling of shawarma – it can be more than one kind of meat on a spit – an analogy for a diverse culture maybe?

        The preposition “with” seems less halting a word in the phrase’s momentum yet might describe a halting, tentative breath shared. Poor kid.

  217. Mary White says:

    Fro the title I go for ‘The Painters Hat’

    In Ireland we spell dialling with two L’s.

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    her Grandma’s gifts
    or
    heirloom patterns
    in finely stitched quilts

    I have strong feelings about my ageku as Monsanto are now lobbying to change EU law to outlaw the saving of Heirloom seeds.

    • Ex – Monsanto execs sit on the board of U.S. government agencies, making policy decisions that effect farmers across the land, and they’re not elected either. The Sign of the Horn!

  218. Lorin says:

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s breath on mine

    records remain secreted
    in finely stitched quilts

    Though I know what’s intended by ‘secreted’ (‘hidden away’) it seems an unfortunate word choice coming, as it does, immediately after a verse which has mammary glands secreting milk in it. It comes across as an unintended pun. (We all know that ‘to secrete’ has two meanings)

    records of all the birth dates
    in finely stitched quilts

    ?

    all the family records
    in finely stitched quilts
    ?

    Either would leave the ageku unhindered. Both are true to the quilting tradition.

    Another thing: “women pack their ports”. Though I guessed it was a shortened form of portmanteau (which I’m more familiar with in the context of ‘portmanteau words’ than anything else I’ve heard in my lifetime) I’m surprised to read that it’s an “aussie” usage. It’s not one I’ve ever come across. I suspect it’s actually a Cockney or Irish usage, that *might* have come to Australia in early settlement days. But it’s certainly not been common usage in my 65+ years as I’ve never heard it or even read it in Colonial literature. Maybe it’s preserved in small pockets, somewhere? ‘The Ditch’, on the other hand, is common slang usage for the Tasman Sea, on both sides of the Ditch …the Kiwis just pronounce it differently than we do 😉

    If something Australian was wanted:

    (the) women pack their knickers
    and head across the ditch

    Hey, when you pack your knickers & leave it’s serious. 🙂 But if that isn’t to Sir’s musical taste …and I’m aware that my expression often isn’t (tongue-poking-out smiley needed!) … then there’s ‘kits’, ‘bags’, ‘lippies’ (short for lipsticks) … ‘ports’ just sounds peculiar to me. Out on the Ditch, ya gotta know your port from your starboard, too.

    The tuppence worth of a sporadic observer. Will stop, now. I suspect I’m in danger of being strangled.

    – Lorin

  219. Right. Another draft to consider as well as comments and amicus curiae preceding:

    The Hat of the Painter / The Painter’s Hat

    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter / the painter’s hat

    Ultimately, this is Claire’s call / decision.

    thin veils of frost
    all round a tin-roof hut

    in a cheval mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    ****

    chased away
    by the cameras
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from shadow
    to gulp at heated air

    the sound of the fan
    it clicks this way, then that –
    our legs entwined

    drunk dialling the number
    no longer in service

    on Hyde Park Corner
    the soothsayer tells us
    a forgotten tale

    so late the hour
    this tangle of twisting streets

    flurries of plum petals
    blurring the soldiers
    on their way home

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    ****

    gurgling water
    to and fro, a peasant
    in his paddy field

    the women pack their (ports?)
    and head across the ditch

    This is Barb’s call, of course.

    Banksy’s graffito
    makes a mockery of
    the whole affair

    converging on the lunch truck
    a whiff of shawarma beef

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s breath with mine

    heirloom patterns
    in finely stitched quilts

    disappointingly
    the pianist’s fingers
    short and fat

    wind in a bottle
    hooked to a long, slow riff

    ****

    the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty

    cherry blossom!
    from dawn to dusk blooming
    from dawn to dusk withering

    our seeds kept safe
    in calico pockets

    Claire, Willie, Mary, Sandra,

    Barbara, Willie, Sandra, Mary, Claire, Willie, Barbara, Mary,

    Claire, Barbara, Willie, Claire, Sandra, Barbara, Sandra, Mary

    Barbara, Sandra, Claire, Mary

    Here’s hoping I haven’t missed anything. 🙂

  220. Claire says:

    Lorin’s knickers have some humour to add to the text, a bit of senryu not to neglect here… Plus it lengthens the affirmative, and the ick sounds is a bit more to the previous gurgling.

    (The hat of the paintern – nothing compulsory, though, just seems to be the best when reading with a hat around the scene).

    An emoticone! As i’m always posting in the slit of the box, i never have them..

    • Lorin says:

      Hi Claire,
      ‘the hat of the painter’ … it sticks out as odd usage, imo, especially in a hokku. It’s not that it’s incorrect, it’s that it’s laboured in English. What it reminds me of more than anything is French lessons for beginners, eg : ” la plume de ma tante”

      Your hokku is excellent with ‘the painter’s hat’ imo. It quite clearly shows both Mt Fuji with a cap of snow along with a human painter’s hat. I can easily visualise the sort of hat/cap you mean. And I think ‘The Painter’s Hat’ would make an excellent title for the poem.

      – Lorin

  221. Lorin says:

    oooh, I didn’t realise that the whole thing would appear. I thought it would only be the url! So that those who were curious could click it but those who weren’t could ignore. 😦

    Sorry, all.

    – Lorin

  222. batsword says:

    such intricate patterns
    in finely stitched quilts

    or

    heirloom patterns
    in finely stitched quilts

    Revisions here:

    gay women pack their gowns
    and head across the ditch

    Banksy’s graffito
    makes a mockery of
    the whole affair

    I like the g sounds.But guess it could be bags, cases, ports.

    Seem to be issues with most of my verses.
    Ports, definetly used but not common all over Australia, most certainly for people of a certain age in Queensland. I first heard it in Canberra 40 years ago! I think most people could guess what ports are. We don’t always understand every word used in renku. A reader has to think more and engage with the thrust of link and shift.

    The Painter’s Hat as title seems right for me.

  223. Finally able to verbalize the effect “the hat of the painter” has – that anticipatory feel. The “painter’s hat” has a finality that slows the impetus forward, at least to my ear, as though by focusing on one object we don’t enjoy the scenery. A little thing, I know. It relates to the metrical feet, scansion, within that line directly, somewhat clipped as it becomes. That’s what I’m assuming.

    I also relate the “laboured English” that Lorin describes to old time usage as might have been used a century ago or more ago, which offers credence to my claim of a “classical tone” when spoken or read today. Yup. uh-huh.

    • I’m from the “Show Me” state, certainly, but that’s a bit more than I’d like to witness. 😉 I much preferred the shrewd indirectness of the original.

    • Lorin says:

      No, I don’t ascribe ‘laboured English’ to ‘old-time usage’ or nuances of the ‘classical’ at all. To clarify: the ‘of the…’ form of the possessive has its uses (rites of spring, turn of the key, poem of the week, soup of the day) but like ‘the dog of the man’, ‘the toe of the woman’,’ the poem of the poet’, ‘the pen of my aunt’, I find ‘the hat of the painter’ a laborious, even mistaken usage (in English), which, if it had been used by anyone whose first language was English, I would consider both affected and pretentious, unless used satirically. Tone and voice is as important as ‘music’ in poetry, imo.

      – Lorin

  224. sandra says:

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s breath on mine

    “with mine” doesn’t sound quite right but everything else I think of would need a fourth line!

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s pulse with mine

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s giggle

    my son, now a teenager, was laughing from the moment he was born … but I am also playing into Rosemary’s Baby here.

  225. sandra says:

    Re #5 & 6 – they read on, so it sounds like the koi are being chased away … still have an itch about this pair …

    chased away
    by the cameras
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from shadow
    to gulp at heated air

  226. Mary White says:

    Mount Fuji
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter / the old painter’s hat ?

  227. Claire says:

    Laboured English… I can’t help remembering Oscar Wilde”s flower seller, the high-pitched accent and to some extent (only, such as I can hear her, Mrs Margaret Thatcher)… … That’s to say, a bit authoritative and explanative (…). It was just the movement of the hat wishing good day, you know, the hat and its symbols here (past Pagnol’s films). With the hat of the painter: the accent is on the hat whereas with “the painter’s hat”, the accent is on the painter… as it seems i’m feeling a difference between the two, altough… i’m not a native English speaker, so I just can’t really feel rightaway as you do…
    (rites of spring, turn of the key, poem of the week, soup of the day) but like ‘the dog of the man’, ‘the toe of the woman’,’ the poem of the poet’, ‘the pen of my aunt : here, it’s a bit different! to avoid some gazouillis or zazouillis such as the keyz’s turn, the day’z soup, the man’z dog, the spring’z rites…
    I had another offer with “the painter’s hat” which appeared non-finished, though! So, i’m glad you talked about it. Another point to think about. And, just as well, i’m always wondering if the possessive can be used in haiku.

    So, you are all judges!…

    • John Carley says:

      That’s a very interesting distinction you draw between uses and forms of the possessive in English, Claire. I don’t think it’s helpful for me to an express an opinion, but my attention was also caught by your last question.

      I’m guessing you mean the apostrophe + s possessive form in haiku. Looked at from the historical perspective: if the apostrophe + s form in English is percieved as a lower register than the word order + of form, then it is arguably *more* indicated in haiku. One feature of the genre was (and is?) its willingness to adopt plebean diction. Very crudely put, and in Japanese at least, there is a dichotomy of waka/tanka = high, and haikai/haiku = low. In linked verse this also manifested as ushin renga = high, haikai no renga (renku) = low.

      However that last observation doesn’t settle the hat question because Basho purposefully mixed high and low diction. And, in his style, the hokku was a place where we might expect higher rather than lower diction! 🙂

      .

      • Part of my argument for “the hat of the painter” lies in its affect on the prose-like ‘register” of the entire preface, as well as the unhindered advance of flow forward. More like brushes on a cymbal than a rim-shot off a snare drum..

      • Claire says:

        It’s somewhat not easy to realize which form is the oldest. That should be haikai, but, waka is the “song of Japan and tanka an old form of haiku. I’m glad now to realize that “traditionnal” just means “comic” and comic is traditionnal, I was wondering when you asked Ashley the before the last verse spring blossom, posting surreal, ethereal haiku. Traditionnal until now meant for me a classical writing in tone and substance, with no possessive (low register) at all. Comic substance though is not really a spreaded form in haiku!

  228. Lorin says:

    Coming back fresh, I can see the comic aspect of ‘the hat of the painter’, and that might be a good thing in a poem (haikai after all) in which not a lot of humour is apparent.

    Mount Fuji
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    John’s mention of register is a clue. There is a difference between ‘high register’ and what we might call ‘mock high register’ or ‘elevated register’, which is often used for satirical purposes (see Australian: ‘to take the piss.’) The effect is similar to that of bathos. Here, the attempt is made to elevate the hat to the status of the venerable mountain, and there’s humour in that.

    On reflection, I see that Barbara’s ‘pack their ports’ does something similar, though here it’s all in the contrast between the rather toffy ‘ports’ and the down & dirty, low register of ‘the Ditch’ as a term for the Tasman Sea.

    gurgling water
    to and fro, a peasant
    in his paddy field

    the women pack their (ports?)
    and head across the ditch

    The juxtaposition of Barbara’s verse with the previous is another instance of the comic, and fits beautifully. Might I suggest a capital D for Ditch? Both to show that it’s not just any old ditch between paddocks or paddies that’s meant and to bring out the contrast between the shortened ‘fancy term’ (ports/ portmanteau) and the challenging (to sailors, that is…’gurgling water’ indeed) sea fluffed off as the Ditch?

    the women pack their ports
    and head across the Ditch
    ?

    Elevating the relatively mundane hat in the hokku, reducing the vast and treacherous Tasman in the local lingo in Barbara’s verse… it’s interesting how both of these ku play with register.

    – Lorin

  229. batsword says:

    cannot have “gay women” because it’s too much like “merry” I suppose…
    one could use the “L” word of course…

    lesbians pack their ports
    and leap across the Ditch

    or

    the women pack their ports
    and head across The Ditch

    or

    the women pack their gowns
    and head across the ditch

    Banksy’s graffito
    makes a mockery of
    the whole affair

  230. sandra says:

    If we’re using “gay” in its hijacked usage is there a problem with merry? (Yes, I’m bitter, my second name has been appropriated to mean something else entirely!)

    • Hi all,

      Running gaily (not) for the last 48 hours. All worked out now.

      I appreciate the reserve shown merely changing to “gowns’. Basho and Co. made subtle, witty references to homosexuality, too, in a strictly conservative era and culture .

      You could elaborate the “g” sound and have them “grab their gowns”, Barb. That would make your intention clear in an appealing, sophisticated manner. I would find the humour more in the predicament they face, less than any perceived disrespect to a lifestyle.

      • Reading Lorin’s comment again I think “grab their gowns” set against “and head across the ditch” reinforces her point, as well as John’s example, of levels and contrasts of “register”. I hadn’t thought of it that way before.

      • John Carley says:

        That’s not how you spell ‘Mary’, Sandra 🙂 J

    • Lorin says:

      “All things fall and are built again
      And those who build them again are gay”

      WB Yeats, from ‘Lapis Lazuli’

      …which I had the misfortune to be teaching to a year 11 class in the ’80s, and not in a genteel Ladies College. The poem, a great one, has been ruined, Sandra Gaye. 😦

      http://charlesmatthews.blogspot.com.au/2010/02/poem-of-day-william-butler-yeats.html

      – Lorin

      • Claire says:

        Isn’t-it great that humans who endure so much through said wars and others… non-qualified as such (the Mango building, just to name one) go on seing Lapis Lazzuli in their dreams, and even on the road , snow and cherry-trees , longevity. And, yes, this is just human, but how can one foresee such a blessed future when writing not such a happy poem at the turn of the first war? Isn’t-it keeping oneself alive? But, tosome extent, Yeats, in hiqs poem is not the war itself, just somebody who watches. Worse is Baudelaire who doesn’t even complain of his own fall in the spleen (his spleen’s poems…) in which he revels giooing deeper and deeper and being himself the broken bell… Is-there some hope left. Probably not until death grbs him for good, although just like some good introduction, it enables him to develop the theme, and it’s terribly dark and beautiful, the rhymes go deep into your soul!…
        La Cloche fêlée (the broken bell) http://www.poetry-archive.com/b/baudelaire_charles.html‎

        II est amer et doux, pendant les nuits d’hiver,
        D’écouter, près du feu qui palpite et qui fume,
        Les souvenirs lointains lentement s’élever
        Au bruit des carillons qui chantent dans la brume.

        Bienheureuse la cloche au gosier vigoureux
        Qui, malgré sa vieillesse, alerte et bien portante,
        Jette fidèlement son cri religieux,
        Ainsi qu’un vieux soldat qui veille sous la tente!

        Moi, mon âme est fêlée, et lorsqu’en ses ennuis
        Elle veut de ses chants peupler l’air froid des nuits,
        II arrive souvent que sa voix affaiblie

        Semble le râle épais d’un blessé qu’on oublie
        Au bord d’un lac de sang, sous un grand tas de morts
        Et qui meurt, sans bouger, dans d’immenses efforts.

      • sandra says:

        How did you know that my mum and dad spelled it with an “e'” on the end? Spooky, possums 🙂

  231. sandra says:

    Okay, I’m happy with “the hat of the painter” …

  232. Mary White says:

    I was thinking about the hat last night when I couldn’t sleep!? I am awake sine 3 and its nearly time to go to work. Happy Birthday Mary! Anyway – I like the disembodied hat. Its gently surreal and that works for me.

  233. sandra says:

    Are we there yet …?

  234. i don’t know for sure – Claire ascertained her hokku. The other alternatives are below.

    Mount Fuji –
    through the mist up there
    the hat of the painter

    thin veils of frost
    all round a tin-roof hut

    in a cheval mirror
    the full moon
    speckled with silver

    baby’s amber necklace
    snug against her throat

    ****

    chased away
    by the cameras
    in front of startled shoppers

    koi rise from shadow
    to gulp at heated air

    the sound of the fan
    it clicks this way, then that –
    our legs entwined

    drunk dialing the number
    no longer in service

    on Hyde Park Corner
    the soothsayer tells us
    a forgotten tale

    so late the hour
    this tangle of twisting streets

    flurries of plum petals
    blurring the soldiers
    on their way home

    white muslin curtains
    set loose a butterfly

    ****

    gurgling water
    to and fro, a peasant
    in his paddy field

    the women pack their ports / grab their gowns
    and head across the ditch

    Banksy’s graffito
    makes a mockery of
    the whole affair

    converging on the lunch truck
    a whiff of shawrma beef

    cold moon
    sapping my milk’s flow
    the infant’s breath with mine

    records remain secreted / heirloom patterns
    in finely stitched quilts

    disappointingly
    the pianist’s fingers
    short and fat

    wind in a bottle
    hooked to a long, slow riff

    ****

    the best malt
    there ever was
    demolished at the wake

    a merry little jig
    the inbox empty

    cherry blossom!
    from dawn to dusk blooming
    from dawn to dusk withering

    our seeds kept safe
    in calico pockets

  235. oops – should be “shawarma”

  236. sandra says:

    Could the dash at the end of the “entwined legs” verse match the one at the end of the hokku please?

    I thought we had agreed to “dialling”?

    I’d like to suggest “marching towards home as the final line of the plum blossom verse.

    Otherwise all good (go, Barbara). This has worked well, thanks Willie, Claire and Mary … and Lorin for timely comments.

  237. batsword says:

    my verses, thus:

    flurries of plum petals
    blurring the soldiers
    on their way home

    (I don’t think we should have another verb ending in ing, ie marching)

    or

    flurries of plum petals
    blur marching soldiers
    on their way home
    ~
    the women grab their gowns
    and head across the ditch
    ~
    heirloom patterns
    in finely stitched quilts
    ~
    I’m ok with the title The Hat Of The :Painter

    Thanks all. This should be it now.???

  238. Claire says:

    flurries of plum petals —
    on to the outpost
    marching soldiers blurred

    heirloom patterns
    in finely stitched quilts

  239. Claire says:

    Happy birthday, Mary!

  240. Mary white says:

    Thanks. It struck me this week that I know Willie, Claire and Barbara from The Renku Group. Hello to Sandra just as we say goodbye!

  241. And a Happy Mother’s Day (U.S.) to all!

    Dialling, yes. my copy oversight. And thanks, Barbara. Considering,

    flurries of plum petals
    blur the soldiers
    marching towards home

    This is an interesting position in the first sheet, how it tempers the movement to the “butterfly’s ” close. I’ll leave it to you then, to return later, as we’re celebrating our Mum’s!

  242. John Carley says:

    The Book of Renku

    Free of charge to anyone interested in poetry. Download the pdf now from here: http://www.renkureckoner.co.uk/ Please repost this message and link on any relevant poetry forum or newsgroup. Thanks. J

  243. Pingback: News (one long post) | breath, a collection of haiku

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