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A PLATE BETWEEN US
Lynne Rees, Wales (lynne)
Jim Wilson, USA (dharmajim)
Moira Richards, South Africa (moi)
Karen Cesar, USA (karen)
Raihana Dewji, USA (sbasil)
CW Hawes, USA (chris)
Kala Ramesh, India (kala)
Josh Wikoff, USA (lemonkind)
Norman Darlington, Ireland - sabaki (norman)
with a hokku by Matsuo Basho (tr. Darlington):
hiyahiya to kabe wo fumaete hirune kana
Side 1
how cool the feeling
of a wall against the feet —
siesta —basho
sunlight squeezes through
the shuttered window —lynne
as she takes her walk
the purling of a brook
over rocks —dharmajim
* * *
Side 2
yes, the earth moved
for me too, lil' darlin' —moi
on clear winter nights
I still listen for
your footsteps —karen
oh, gone Samarra's dome
its minarets! —sbasil
* * *
Side 3
news at six
another sluggish day
on Wall Street —chris
fog travels among
the speeding vehicles —kala
tarot cards
spread by gypsy girls
under a full moon —karen
* * *
Side 4
we pile the bones
on a plate between us —lemonkind
apple blossom
and the softening
of tractor ruts —lynne
silkworms dream
of spinning to the stars —norman
Composed 5 June to 3 July 2007.
BLUE PETER CONSIDERS
Dick Pettit
Diane Webb
Frances Attard
Frank Williams
Two blue moons
in the drifting skylight
of drunken dreams dp
Persephone's stone statue
breathes in deeply dw
eavesdropping
in the underground
a whispered conversation fa
the lip reader shares
all the latest gossip fw
forecast is
for heavy snow, deepening
into night dp
Blue Peter considers
tortoise hibernation dw
as the leaves fall
the forest slips into
a natural limbo fw
on the verge
neither can say a word dp
coming to his sense
he takes their keys
out of the bowl fw
his rejected plea
S W A L K fa
fresh cut roses
scattered on the grass
who will gather? dw
at dusk waves gently lap
an empty shoreline fw
This junicho renku was begun on the night of 31 May 2007, the second full (blue) moon in the month. Blue Peter is a BBC TV children's programme. We wrote this by the revolving sabakimethod. The player whose verse is chosen chooses the next from the usually three verses offered by each of other three players. The discards are kept for possible further use.
JUNETEENTH
Suhni Bell
Cindy Tebo
slowly unraveling all the red tape
retirement dinner 'water available upon request'
once a year the koi pond refilled with luck
tiger lilies in the spot where the dog used to sleep
autumn breeze shadows scatter to the wind
maracas from a shake or two of seed packets
'our song' my middle-aged heart skips a beat
graduation under green leaves the fallen ones
tomorrow 12-steps retraced
sketch of a rapist like the one from my childhood
peeping tom her man in the moon
panicattack spacesaround metighten
booby trap after the mastectomy mom names her prosthetic
summer drawl of the phoebe before summer begins
juneteenth the white neighbor's flapping confederate flag*
sunrise along the rosa parks highway
birthday wish i could earn frequent flyer miles for going crazy
jagged memories of haystack rock
progressive lenses the optometrist's illegible prescription
dad's journal the slants of his letters have changed
cicada chorus then the crickets cicada chorus then the crickets
head injury the stars become pinwheels of pain
wake-up call stirring insomnia in my coffee
shades of depression surround Abercrombie's tree**
mulberry abstracts your barefeet
wallpaper moods
where the lines have parted
i seem to be missing the director's cut
cell phone diagnosis there's one test we haven't done yet
new vet a quack in the frog pond
a twilight soup of hot flashes and mosquitoes
school cafeteria fruit flies
army recruiters those smiling faces stalking my son
lost in cyberspace multilingual directions
stock jock predictions it's suit and tie weather again
closer than today yesterday's Alzheimer
rebuilding the meadow towers of purple milkweed
*Juneteenth [June 19th] is the oldest known celebration commemorating the ending of slavery in the United States. The Confederate flag has been described as a shameful reminder of slavery and segregation.
*In Reference to a work by Gertrude Abercrombie entitled, "Charlie Parker's Favorite Painting."
DARK EARTH
Patricia Prime
Andre Surridge
stepping stones
the river changes
its melody
half-way across
pausing to watch minnows
basking in sunlight
close to the surface
in shallow water
fluid notes
from a kowhai
tui song
mountain stillness
leaves fall on boulders
and on water
as we climb the track
towards the summit
as you wait for me
the glimmer of sunlight
on a mushroom
at the top
cool air and clear views
for miles around
taking it all in
with a deeper breath
dark earth
the heavy scent
of humus
crackling of a fire
to boil the billy
for tea
you like your's strong and sweet,
my preference is for black
autumn evening
the Norfolk pines
always green
heading home
a hint of mist
in the air
the rush of our feet
brushing through ferns
MORNING TRAIN
Patricia Prime
Andre Surridge
running late
to catch the morning train
worried it won’t stop
told you so, his words
at the shuttered window
moving carriage
her eyes tracking
back and forth
along a stationary line
of motorway traffic
on the horizon
shifting shapes
become other things –
patterns that tend to lead us
into daytime reveries
if he won lotto
he’d definitely buy
a yacht
sail off into the blue
no matter what she said
he is back there
on old man on the wharf
in another time
dreaming of his days at sea
and of the girl’s fine blue eyes
those eyes
so deep a blue that a man
might drown in them
rolling down his cheeks
tears he quickly wipes away
NIGHT PLAGUE: ZOMBIE HORRORS
Lewis Sanders
Carl Brennan
Night plague
flesh eaters walk
in the old graveyard
Unconsecrated claret
luring the thirsty homeless
Strange night lights
stranger shadows shuffling
in the night
Rafters creak
only storm winds shaking
the hanged man
The antique farmhouse
cobwebs trembling everywhere
Scratching at casements
the countryside's mystery
pleads for admittance
In the village
running men with shotguns
Regular guys
shout the usual expletives –
bars closing early
A woman screams
a child cries for his mother
night fog
Her last cigarette smolders
a perfume in bloodstained grass
In the field
where pumpkins grow
shuffling zombie feet
A rustic's severed head kicked
& kicked down a moonless gorge
Taste for raw game
the dead woman kneels over
the dead man
My god enthroned
in my guts demanding
more than prayers
Spreading the horror
the once alive policeman
The disinterred Many
littering every highway
stop signs ignored
Old woman at the window
here and there screams in the city
Rain changing to hail
vague out-of-towners shambling
through a crossfire
Army posts overrun
there is talk
of using nukes
Our sage president resigns
Wall Street goes ballistic
The crisis spreads
from Europe
sudden blackouts
Newspapers readily torn
bandage the infected bite
Seeking shelter
in Notre Dame de Paris
Death clawing at the doors
Just the latest uprising
of hungry beggars –
gargoyles remain calm
From across the Channel
London in flames
Shakespeare's Histories
a north wind disintegrates
charred pages
Debris littered streets
a lost dog shivering
Untold carnage
a vagrant lycanthrope
nearly fainting
Sudden moon
illuminates the
strange body
One ragged thing, then others
Each shadow sensing your fear
Survivors wait
to be rescued
here and there a scream
Wave after wave of rawboned stiffs
taking no prisoners
Running up the stairs
fleeing the onslaught
of the hungry dead
Poor rabid beasts
seeing nothing but prey
Welcome to my castle
Glaring red eyes
from the midnight mist
Minor carnivores en masse
inherit this earth
graves in broad daylight
SKULL VALLEY
Zack Lyon
Richard Tice
dusty butterfly
goes its own way
a sign shows the green valley . . .
cliffs rising from deep snow
still no bus—
snow deepens
on the scowling gargoyle
deep spring: easily passing
the temple’s fierce guardians
empty field
where the shrine once stood:
I enter the ancient portal
globe lights of the squid boats
strung throughout the black ocean
far from home:
beyond the snowfield,
the Milky Way
student buses—an old man
pruning the campus cherries
cherry harvest over—
all of the starlings
fat and sassy
among the cement houses
red peppers dry on black tarps
street vendor selling
deep-fried sweet potato sticks
and kumquats
after the snowstorm—
apricot branches covered with blossoms
sweep of tundra
Mount Denali
behind the veil
in and out of sleep—
my mother’s whisper
so much has changed:
childhood home for sale again
by another owner
cliff-dwelling wall—
thumbprint in the mortar
a few seconds
of a cat’s night passage
trapped in fresh concrete
not quite ripe—
moon among the apricots
picking mistletoe
in the scrub oaks—no one
under it anywhere
Stonehenge—
after the tourists, grazing sheep
THE UNMADE BED
David Giacalone
CarrieAnn Thunell
bus station hobo—
four plastic seats
and a tabloid pillow
on each dawn-frosted bench—
a full sleeping bag
a young cop rousts
the trestle couple—
cooing pigeons
in my pupils—
the mattress
in the storefront window
snores from the dumpster
at Executive Suites
dreaming of Dickens
on an empty belly—
one more vagabond
CALM MORN, WARM BED
CarrieAnn Thunell
Steven Thunell
snow morning
waking to the warmth
of his skin
tight stitches of the quilt—
my wife in my arms
the radio plays
Bach flute sonatas
a sparrow joins in
snow melt
from direct sun—
her mouth on mine
dawn streaks his tousled hair—
cold coffee on the bed stand
snow out of clouds
water within ice
this love
WALKING BUDDHA
Francis Attard
Dick Pettit
Walking Buddha with the right foot forward where my journey ends
In my beginning Whitsun bells
Under the stars light years away light years in between
A life given to pleasure leaves no fine momories
Waning moon its emptying profile praying mantis
A live earwig struggles in the bottom of the bucket
Edge to a quest on a wild-goose chase not a wink of sleep
Home on the range and bivouac in the canyon
Vagrant's wartime tales celebrates his birthday in the pub
A youthful audience fascinated and appalled
New grammar grafts on a game of chess & talk of Greenpeace
Few in the club tonight heads are intimate
Wrapped up in elections name-calling headlines & cartoons
They must toe the line wherever we move it to
Back to front in the fountain waters reads PEACE
RAW hands and faces marching into the wind
Santa's cheeks flushed steading the mind ballooned with spirits
Uncle Jim's jokes keep the party up all night
Silent on the shelf laughing clown with its back to Darkness at Noon
Before you're hung relieve yourself
Right weight, second helping of gooseberry pie good for the stomach
Conversation sinks to schools and children's prowess
Long time to elapse before the cicada's song each year's turnout
The concert in her home-town becomes a fiesta
Diaries furnish points to ponder & mention in letters home
Without a shirt my PC keeps me warm
Pilgrim's back watched the day's common prayer at the Wailing Wall
A bright moon, and quiet in Bethlehem tonight
Freshly-baked bread breakfast makes me new friends away from friends
The morning keeps fine we do the walk to the shore
Tax assessor hears of one silver coin found inside a fish
A golden handshake water rates go up
A nod is as good as a wink, winnowing song heard somewhere
The blackbird's call's intrusive time for a coffee
Kind eyes a shaved head among the cherry blossom
Looking out for the one not yet welcomed
2006
Francis Attard
Dick Pettit
Two thousand & six - my first Euro note used for a bookmark
Should I send off for the Back the Badger newsletter?
Scratch three and win a glittering chance in our new promotion!
Extra luggage weight jade Hotei for a gift
The security guys gather round, laugh and hand it back
A mysterious bag its moon & flowers
A new sculpture going up in the square represents eternity
Chalk cliffs rising osprey climbs a wave
Two friends newly kitted-out, striding the springy turf
Hung in the museum entitled Gazebo
Anything can be a work of art if you call it so
Stars dissolve in haze snowdrops droop in a vase
Sunny leaves hide the school party in the sunken lane
One side of Galileo's moon in orbit round the Earth
A gold sovereign wafts behind the prices on the business news
Ghost in a suit of armour shadow falls weightless at dusk
I turn slowly still nothing there in the curving street
The quiet of epitaphs adds history to a graveyard
Crime series burial in confident hope of the life eternal
A rider on a black horse a balance in one hand
No resolutions! let's zap someone... pour encourager
Four seasons in all time & change
A special song for the choir's fiftieth year with original numbers
Much scattered in books dog-eared pages
A hint there a longer reference here we track them down
Tunnel's end in sight light-drenched
"Nice to see you leave the bottle here and go right in."
Pale & pickled a van Gogh moon
A long fork stabs down into the jar at the last onion
Bribe a silk tie with its blue penguin print
Pretty, wind-scarfed the sports-car driver with urchin for guide
Jack next to the Queen rest of the hand hidden
The tea and biscuits are all finished but no-one's leaving
Next day's agenda in mind & a surprise for Friday
They do the flower-piece with buckets coming in to deck the hall
Pots of copper & bronze intensify the colours
THE MOWER'S BLADES
Jill Arthey
Sarah Barker
Margaret Dowdeswell
Sue Dunne
Alec Finlay
Linda France (Master)
Malcolm Green
Beth Knowles
Alicia Lester
Ros Normandale
Carole Reeves
Tom Richardson
Christine Taylor
Pink campion trembles
under the weight
of the hungry bee
the mower's blades hum
speckling the washing green
I fear seeing
your bright edge
through glass
in my child's eye
the fox walks on two legs
haggis, mashed tatties and neeps
but my fingers
still frozen
a sliver of bone
beneath hard earth
look how the flycatcher
always returns
to the same perch
we never say goodbye
just in case
strapped in tight
until the safety instructions
are understood
what will he think?
the car stinks of fish
a brain the size
of Europe
she takes holidays there
leave your boots by the door
I'm dancing in the mud
different pines
shed their cones
at different times
harvest is gravity
what must be
gulls skirl and screech
their letters
across the sky
not a word of Mandarin
but she knows Chinese
to and fro
to and fro
the weft grows
we brush our teeth
in the freshet
clotted pastures
pale clouds –
Primula veris
a scent catches
fills us up.
www.renga-platform.co.uk
a nijuuin renga for Midsummer's Day at Garden Station, Langley, 21 June 2006
Copyright © by Designated Authors in 2007.
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