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IN THE EARLY HOURS
Frank Williams
David Bingham
sudden gust
blossoms cascade
into pink patterns
an old man returns
the blackbird’s call
as usual
a throng of voices
at the early bingo
***
second time round
she marries her first love
where they lay
crushed daisies in a patch
of flattened grass
hidden from view
a litter of fox cubs
***
along the headland
in crashing waves
sea and moonlight merge
first chill night
we light a coal fire
in the early hours
a baker stacks his oven
with loaf tins
***
on the way home she buys
vodka and a newspaper
without a break
the whoosh of traffic
along the motorway
around the neon light
snowflakes swirl like moths
A Shisan renku onducted via email:
Started: 17 June 2010
Finished: 21 July 2010
UNTITLED
Valeria Simonova-Cecon
John Carley
dandelion seeds
drift across my pond –
utter silence
dreams of levitation
over distant hills
the metro station
vomiting
a blanket of faces
her patchwork pieces
somehow fit together
composed on The Renku Group June 4th - June 8th 2010
IN LATE AUTUMN
tia (wildflower)
richard witherspoon (old tree)
in the late autumn
some journeys end early
sky, gray and cloudy
in front of a "spirit-house"
what blows rain from the river?
athwart karma's wheel
questions pose w/o answers:
a maze of mirrors
thunder lightning – so scary
soul into an unknown world
passing through the sky,
leaving the earth behind – just
footprints in the sand
even free floating the void
beyond the roaring of falls
which one is better
operating in tandem
being, not being?
autumn turned to winter, still
two sharing, a dear loved one
a winter-storm free
really buff until last year:
son dernier cri
nut scrambling squirrels
a smothering snow fallen
being death-mindful
between tomorrow, the next
life – which will come first?
dawn's frost awaiting melting
life, death shining so divine
flow like a river
tomorrow, a mystery,
the present, a gift
along a seam of space-time:
capable of intention
only today left
some tomorrows never come –
returning stardust
new year comes, still so icy
cold wind howling in the night
trembling frozen tree
stardust scattered by the wind
don't know where it went
closest, biggest moon tonight
smallest jasmine most fragrant
tomorrow coming
moon halo dissipating –
letting-go lesson
yesterday, gone with the wind
carries far away stardust
welcome, new morning
bringing beautiful sun beams
oooh, wonderful world!
slowly, the moon eats itself
jasmine overpowering
this seam in time-space:
living to die? dream to live!
the nature of things
flickering stars in the sky
dream: life becomes wonderful
death, the peak of life
enjoy life, die gracefully –
everlasting journey
crackling lightning alive, yeah
the sky – truly magical!
once two paths cross: they
(even free-floating a void)
stay crossed forever
another journey ended
even the sky is crying
a free-falling leaf
blown by the wind, not knowing
where it might touch land
coolness in the misty air
the ashy odor of smog
circling the drain
dreams afloat in the evening
fight, or not, the undertow
misty moonlight looks gloomy
it's weeping behind the clouds
it comes, and it goes
the sun will shine tomorrow
still the world will turn
unknown quality of x
whispering into a mouth
sky reflecting sea
separation brings sorrow
sea reflecting sky
stranded deep in the forest,
where deer and antelope play
under naked branches
uncover the mystery
the tomorrow’s life
outside, it's a sweaty cold –
shadowy reflections
winter clarity –
not every wall its small hole:
escapee nightmare
the year of the ox creeps in
lion dances, fireworks
cold outside, inside
hope hugs can make you warm, dear
sent through the chilled air
causation? correlation?
this meeting of two rivers
sliver of a moon
she hangs on – he hangs, too
with the earth turning
winter slowly fades away
new hope in coming spring
solitary tree
balancing in harmony
its roots and branches
breaking glass after glass;
fogbound even oceans list
building nests to size
it's hard to bend an old tree –
training until death
big old tree, still standing strong
live and let live, the best way
the thrill of freedom:
a rolling stone with little moss
or a gust of wind
clouds passing against the sky;
an intricate spider web
through empty branches
a storm stumbles down a mountain –
its moon escaping
awakening sleepy souls:
smells of fresh green leaves & grass
birds’ joyful singing –
showing its bluest color
sky sweeps clouds away
a hint of gathering heat –
equal day & night, tadpoles
shade: leaves newly green
rising setting sun in flames
stops me from breathing
in the air, mixed fragrances
blooming colorful flowers
each sentient being
all awakened by the warmth,
hibernation ends
blue/black envelope of night
a smile deep in the shadows –
drowns me in orange
a wave of bougainvillea
come over a wall
golden crescent moon alone
stars hiding behind the clouds
sunflowers on the fields,
following the sun all day
sadness drifts away
rolling clouds sweep overhead
grasses stretching horizons
scattering feathers
through a grove, streaking foxes –
distant muffled shot
angry sky, thunder, lightning,
it's raining, the whole night through
morning, no rainbow –
misty mood rolls back and forth
sunshine's still missing
rolling blanket of darkness
grey hills framing greyer hills
magenta lotus
even light up a pond in
the broadest daylight!
muddy water grown
yet blossoming so brightly
dancing in the wind
with petals all falling down
seeding starts inside
already on their journeys:
shimmering heat, cats in love
inner lotus
more beautiful than its petals:
first time lesson? not!
down seeds fall through to the mud
young lotus approach the sun
at stand-still, summer
leaves once green now orange-red
autumn: all hellos
through double-plated storm glass
singing, the last cicada!
Haiga by Mary Davila
INTERSECTING GRACES
Nancy Lazar
Stacey Dye
Last night I slept by myself
under an open window.
You would have scolded me
but my head was finally clear,
and the morning cough I woke with
was delicious.
At dusk, daytime's songbirds
go silent into the dark.
Mournful wails of night birds
saturate the air.
Their cries energize me,
I rise.
I hardly slept the first night
in our home on the hill.
As the hours passed I listened
to the wail of the train whistle.
Now I never hear that moan
calling me to come out.
I know of a stream that runs
cool and fast,
cradled in a cleave where two
hillsides once converged.
Rocks baptized by the current,
cleanse the water of our sins.
In my haste out the back door
I stepped on a caterpillar.
He must have traveled far
to end up half-squashed.
Eager to go on
he lifted his other half.
Ragged, she stands out
in the city's morning rush,
longing to scrape together
enough for a cup of coffee.
She finds small victories
at the bottom of her purse.
Collaborative Linked Sijo
PHOTO from www.graphicdesignfestival.nl
A FINGER BEHIND THE CODE
Jacques Verhoeven
Silva Ley
Clear leaden type
a finger behind the code
flood of tezabytes
unravelling, arranging
in our Public Space
a string of fragments
filmpictures, shockbooks
early risen, late to sleep
world a flat hard disk
images before knowing
the keyboard touched
logistic of seconds
screen of dismantling
oceans in the game
waves of greeting icons
exploding stars
a tide line of mile-stones
earth gives itself names
labels of temptations
manuals in grooves
posters to the point
judgements are stalked
brains masterminded
snippets of lamentations
a lack of happy news
along left or right
encyclopaedic signals
once curved in trees
multiply and multitask
profit unlimited
webcams fly along
Google hours tick away
stomachs are grunting
the resolute ledlight screen
chickenwing-meal, well done
books brushed aside
- dictatorship of love-
smoothed dogs ears
life under lock and key
a special dry - clean
unlimited storage
the eyes need window cleaners
to dream in d.v.d.
illusions on line
candidates for tattoos
- logic is our tool-
through ranges of experiments
science & arts
designers embrace both
looking for connections
the atlas folded out
strips move and circle
all digital wings
shows of animations
symmetric figures roll
tingling radar sounds
mirrors behind the mountains
technicians interfere
diaries move on screens
change is the only method
material of planets
searching for cosmic crumbles
the careless mind
thoughts computerised
the process is the product
restless hours
now hug to awakening
a passage of foam
skycatchers run wild
clouds grow, evaporate
day dreams wander
designs drift away
spinning moonlight
trillions of flashes in the air
angels or searching-orders?
universal shopping
madness of cross choices
without traffic- jams
sail trip in coiling water
strangers are different friends
crisis managers
luck is the new money
for what, for now
fundamental fear collapsed
hands for wellness white and black
inkblots whiped out
to days divided issues
pimp yous senses here
graphic investigations
decoding human patterns
Written during DECODING, name of Graphic Design Festival Breda, Netherlands, May 2010.
PLUCKING A NOTE
Helga Stania
Ramona Linke
blue dawn...
plucking a note
on the children's violin
barefoot
within the scent of mowed meadows
the buzzard feather
carrying home
a piece of sky
sintered – the flame red
of the bonsai bowl
released from ice
drunken of moon
my garden pond
wet on wet
shore leave to the Ahu Tongariki
Ceremonial –
anointing the baptizand
with chrism
to find new life
light years afar
a bright morn
waterproofing
the Harley’s saddle bags
Valentine's Day
no more doubt in the heart
our song
through Verona
at your hand
on the way to the bordell
quickly snort the coke
today a talking point
in the couple therapy: The night side
of womanhood
Selene's shape
surrounded by crow shades
evening twilight
listening to
the colored leaves
reindeer herds moving south
within a sea of tranquillity
storm tide
prayers commence
beyond the dike
winter solstice
a visit in the Nebra Ark
farewell –
i'm trying hard
to smile
two young palmate newts
in country dress at our door
the slope –
wild daffodills decorate
the wayside shrine
the old readers' café;
we fold paper cranes
WHERE WE COME FROM
Jackson Lewis
Carmella Braniger
Randy Brooks
Joseph Bein
a dozen
traffic lights
at dusk
inside the dojo
you fall into silence
cb
I hear
the rise and fall
of your dream
calm moonlight
across the yard
rb
moon face
outshines stars
through the telescope
you brought me
last summer
jl
this night
only a cricket
shares his song
no star
lends her voice
jb
waking from dream
to the melody
of morning
telescoped
from distant planets
cb
•
a new face
at the corner café
not sure yet
who deserves
her smile
rb
young man enters
with a swagger
and a grin
both worn
for protection
jl
the smell of coffee
without looking
at the menu
he orders
what she's having
jb
the door
slams shut
we fall into
a vacuum
of chatter
cb
on the treadmill
she sings a love song
to her iPod
the end
of my paperback
rb
grumpy train
crawls through
sound waves
crackling
from speakers
jl
I follow
with a grumbled curse
through the swinging door
too loud in here
to think
jb
• •
a spring
in her step
scatters squirrels
between two poles
the wire wavering
cb
any day now
the gray sky will be blue
the saxophone
on the street corner
tells me its true
rb
lost hitchhiker
on the corner
prays away
chanting
blues
jl
over the water
his song
takes me back
to where they say
I came from
jb
traffic jam
everyone stopped
over this thawed lake
red hawk carrying
a white dove
-cb
park lagoon
we hold hands
across the dam
a trickle of water
spilling over our toes
rb
from the horizon
a bird call
over the lake
swallows up
the day's last rays
jb & jl
• • •
new graffiti
on the water tower
proclaiming
her teenage lover’s
public vow
rb
old vows
never filled
fold his finger
over the trigger
and push
jl
trapped too long
in a picture frame
he cries
for mother
no answer
jb
outside
the static of sunshine
distracts
even the most studious
from logic
cb
sun worshipers
on the quad
a Frisbee soars
settles
on a beach towel
rb
sandy hands
held tight
I tell
my brother
about undertow
jl
moon rising
over crystal sea
its gravity
pulling you into
yourself
jb
through the open sun roof
more than a half moon
four months pregnant
dreaming my way
back to you
cb
small fingers open
to the possibility
of your embrace
I want to feel
so light again
rb
first day of school
batman backpack
nervously grips
pale little
shoulders
jl
all alone
at lunch
little boy laughs
today, his table
is a pirate ship
jb
from across the café
she's quietly watching
the play open out
aboard this ship
anything is possible
cb
thunder
a girl races
ahead of the kite
both feet off
the ground
rb
Millikin University, Spring 2010
THE KNIFE SLIPS LOOSE
natalie perfetti
carmella braniger
snow melts
blanket of starlings
gleaning barren cornfields
my womb empty
without you
when you’re hurt
mom, i want
to mother you
in the pinetree shade
patches of snow
cutting strawberries
over yogurt
the knife slips loose
your name
on the tip of my tongue
with a word
you redraw the lines
between us
raindrops fill puddles
in the parking lot
wolf moon
all night long
i howl for you
memory flooding
the flannel bed sheets
a log falls forward
sparks on the hearth
i roll over ashamed
i didn’t hate you
in my dream
two stars
sky me
bright lights
hungry
for my gaze
naked
we turn our backs
to the bedroom windows
to the night city
lights
wide awake
incense smoke streams
into my eyes
a vision of our bodies
coiled and spiraling
saturday morning
footsteps on the carpet
pretending i didn’t wake you
i gather bowl and spoon
to read cixous
reaching
for a reflection
in these still waters
the way you look at me
when we're alone in a room
two-mile run
i ignore the icy water
in the fridge
for the lukewarm cup
you set out for me
all night your chest
rising falling again
we dream to sleep
wishing away
the coming of morning
mother’s day
i take the tie from my hair
twisting a handful of flowers
into a bouquet
for you
the tender gesture
of each peony blossom
rippling open in the wind
the way your dark hair dances
down your back disappears
AS IF LADEN WITH RUBIES
Frank Williams
Doreen King
low vivid sun...
crows & horses graze
the same frosted field
a snowstorm makes
the house and meadow one
on the kitchen wall
a pendulum clock
striking midday
for the gifted fielder
a straight forward catch
***
moonbeams silver
the waterlogged
panorama
maple tree branches
as if laden with rubies
all the pruning done
I go for forty winks
in my garden shed
an expensive locket offered
from his blistered hand
so many doubts
rush her mind
as he mumbles, ‘I do’
another perfect landing
from a black cat
noon and the whole sun
is splashed
in the shallow pool
by moonlight the ball
rolls into the 18th hole
a stray dog
leaves the gravel path
and follows her home
your display cabinet
filled with knick-knacks
violet candle,
my small comfort
lit this evening
sat on a bench
a lost teddy bear
***
during the weekend
the old tower crashes
to the ground
a foal frolics
between sniper positions
overnight the orchard
explodes with a myriad
of white blossom
after the downpour
something new sprouts up
A Winter Nijuin Renku composed via snail-mail
Started: 14 March 2010
Finished: 28 July 2010
THE POEM ALSO SEARCHES FOR THIS PLACE
Laynie Browne: 34, Marjorie Buettner: 21, 29; Paul Celan: title; T.S. Elliot: 5, 12;
James Joyce: 15, 18, 28; KGO Radio: 27; Lori Lubeski: 7; Lorine Niedecker: 11, 16;
Jane Reichhold: 1, 6, 9, 13, 17, 23, 33; Werner Reichhold: 3, 8, 10, 20, 25, 31, 32, 36;
Camellia Roy: 4; William Shakespeare: 24; Leslie Scalapino: 26; Murasaki Shikibu: 30;
Virginia Woolf: 2, 19, 35;
1
The New Year
arrives in London safe
in the unknown
pondering the near future
cold enters the room at dusk
2
Each time the door opens I’m interrupted. The bird chorus is over only one bird now sings close to the bedroom window
the tiger leapt
and the swallow dipped
its wings in the dark
3
Carving out of one root
a pattern of river and rice
I meditate
about access given
to a room of knives
4
Writing can move out into the dead zone between any two people and test what is there
5
Rhapsody on a Windy Night
The street-lamp said, “Regard that woman
Who hesitates toward you in the light of the door
Which opens on her like a grin.
You see the border of her dress
Is torn and stained with sand,
And you see the corner of her eye
Twists like a crooked pin.”
6
A labyrinth as the rynth of labium – the way to the very beginning of ourselves as our mothers. One face before me began being two. The centeredness of a shred of desire – to become. Landing on the earthly plane – red, wet, and gasping for the blessed pain of air
7
Voices still hoarse
from treasured (pale)
rides on the skin
8
Come river-wide
conversation
come sash-cord
inspecting
9
Tears knowing one’s kids are already in the new Millennium. Suddenly distances take on additional dimension
10
traveling
lit by a candle
downward
11
Feign a great calm;
all gay transport ends.
Chant: who knows –
flight’s end or flight’s beginning
for the resting gull
12
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of toast and tea.
13
Beyond and beyond
the touch of her hand would send
suffering cordoned off
his wife carries from counter to table
your life against the unimportant
14
sand
queens quell their thirst
along pyramids
lapis-lazuli pronounces
the distance between towers
15
Heated
residence of the heart
orange-flavored
16
Lady slipper’s glue
and electric threads
smack the sweets-seeker
on the head
with pollinia
the bee
befuddled
the door behind him
closed he must
go out at the rear
the load on him
for the next
17
Under sunny skies
snow falls a radio away
bites of history
living several lives at once
in my pockets life and death
18
Be Ophelia
Be Hamlet
Be the property plot
19
I’ll walk
and end in view
across the room
20
Mobile brocade
the weight I shall
be measured
toward a peacock
in draughts of space
21
We sat in the circled light
of burning wood
later your body is a forest
through which I must find my way home
22
One more word like this and the hammers
swing over open ground
23
Learning to love
limping down the stairs of my voice
from the doorway
down in the garden he said
distracted Orpheus wanders back
24
When I consider everything that grows
As thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st
Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface
Devouring time, blunt thou the lion’s paws
Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle
25
Sprinkled privacy, the prey in octopus’s arms. When does, if night escapes, colors change? I examine her letters performing curves, road-angles, waves of the sea not ending at the point
26
Words
one goes back –
wards
27
Things to which the century says good-bye:
pillbox hats
“let’s do lunch”
pacman
switchboard operators
flower power
black lights
28
Changes blowicks into bullocks and a wall of Artesia into a bird of Arabia
29
In the morning
I hear the emptiness of wings cup the sky
It is the Oriental wisdom of the dead
30
If I were the man
to part the bamboo grasses
there would be the fear
all the ponies you have tamed
would be hiding in the trees
31
My organs on their way to a tunnel, I smell an orangutan’s fuzzy neck hair. We both shade our eyes to observe one another more accurately
32
Held hostage at arm’s length, teaching his Infant Majesty how to make waters worse
33
Get the blue
of a neon half moon
on a bridge
a streaming bowl is tight
as he walks back home
34
Leave means what winters a gown, and what has grown between the restlessness of lakes
35
The firelight
broke off some red apple
on the curtains
36
Irresponsible for the year ahead of us we may meet again. “Rolls, please” you probably repeat “I wish to order crisp rolls.” Irresolutely we may bring one finger to both lips.
And the year was 2000.
Composed on the last New Year’s Eve of the 1900s using materials scattered on our desks and shelves at that time.
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