Kasen-no-renga & Renku 1

Global Haiku Tradition--Kasen-no-renga Attempts, Spring 2006

atop the church bell
the sentry dove
warming three eggs

a nudged leafing, falling
caught in the statue's hand

barefoot
tufts of green push up
through her toes

her flaxen brow raised
drinking in the sun

closing her eyes,
her wings emerge
allowing her heart to fly

scared of her feelings--
she gives up what she wants

In the last
moment of peace
she lingers

the wind silently
caressing her cheek

the spring wind,
           - and our toes
pushing the porch swing

the smell of rain
drips from the Naked ladies

from the bus
children run and jump
puddles splashing

mother sighs at the door
dreading muddy foot prints

individually wrapped
three chocolaty smiles
moon pies

belly aches and jammies
time for bed

   

Untitled Solo Renku

atop the church bell
the sentry dove
warming three eggs

a nudged leafing, falling
caught in the statue's hand

barefoot
tufts of green push up
through her toes

her flaxen brow raised
drinking in the sun

closing her eyes,
her wings emerge
allowing her heart to fly

scared of her feelings--
she gives up what she wants

In the last
moment of peace
she lingers

the wind brushing
silently through her hair

the spring wind,
           —and our toes
pushing the porch swing

the smell of rain
drips from the Naked ladies

from the bus
children run and jump
puddles splashing

mother sighs at the door
dreading muddy foot prints

individually wrapped
three chocolaty smiles
moon pies

belly aches and jammies
time for bed

on the other side
of the tracks
lights still on

laying their money down
stakes never been higher

Sue folds his hand
as The Gambler  
starts to play

Across the bar a stripper
slaps the businessman

relaxing after work
the spectator watches
her lifesavings drown away

in the far corner
he juggles his life as well

in the aspirin bottle
his wife finds
his wedding ring

She grabs her car keys
And tightens her robe

Holding the car door
Her tears fall in
A puddle of moonlight

She slams the door shut
As he stumbles up the drive

The taxi driver shakes his head
As he pulls away
From the unfolding scene

Skyscrappers loom in the dawn
As the driver checks his watch

Corinne Cullina


Going Home

we rearrange
the trunk
once more

four girls
endless chatter

Paula Abdul
screams from
the tape deck

I watch
for cheap gas

watching the sunset
just beyond
our destination

ugh
I hate semis

they fall asleep
just after
five o’clock

sipping Pepsi
to stay awake

noticing the SUV
in the next lane
. . . cute driver

he waves
(I blush)

long day
just another
road trip home

Faith J. Martin

Untitled Solo Kasen

darkness on the horizon
poising the orchestra
tense arms in control

nature and man gasp
in tribute

contrast
the opening applause
dove flying

above the city— clouds
flee their own wrath

sirens
the wailing day moon
swallowed

children huddle
under brittle desks

flash
of the muzzle
who fires first?

a moment reflected
in blindness

God’s image
eradicates
God’s image

spring field
trampled by horses

power
in the streets
lost in smoke

shadows of giants
children see dinosaurs

aging
always, still
the same moon

our face
ever-changing

“control” – be dammed
flooding over
varicose veins

collateral damage
shouldn’t be there in the first place

felled tree
drowned
in a pool of blossom

skeletoned court
chalk outlines

school’s in session
three R’s
recon, retaliation, retreat

growing drawing
from a pool of sludge

business as usual
R.I.P.
rape, irradiate, pillage

marching through the city
ants

silver city
tarnishing strife
muddy gray

digging deep
to keep going

fossil fuels
greasing
the gears of war

power
to make ourselves... fossils

death—
the city lit by souls
fireflies

crumbling dome
ghosts in the shell

through the gaping hole
in the sky scraper
full moon

flash
wave of fire noise

massive bloom on
a thin
stem

Yggdrasil
roots in the wasteland

playing catch
a shadow burned
on the sidewalk

school ruins
desks piled against the last wall

waving goodbye
barely any tree branches
left in the wind

no longer spoiled—
cherry blossoms

never
so long—
forever

Ryne Inman

Untitled Solo Renku

aroma of raindrops
first date dress
soaked through

daddy’s girl
on her big night

tear-stained face—
blonde curls
cascading

moonlight foils
his secret escape

papa’s brawny arms
dull
her pain

summer gust
rustles our secrets

camping trip
we don’t care
the fish won’t bite

harvest moon
behind storm clouds

first raindrop
shatters
the glass lake

waves crash
into the paddle boat

dogwood blossoms
fall gracefully
into my hand

silently viewing
the silver moon

he softly tucks
the hair
behind my ear

building grass huts
for ants

forbidden love
meeting secretly
increases the fun

summer romance departs
with the sunny days

hiding my anger
behind
my shining smile

silent strangers walking by
perfect company

alone in my room
dust dancing in the sunlight
performs for me

daylight seeps past
the black curtain

I watch him
from afar
he doesn’t know my name

moonlight casts
the solo silhouette

last chance
but my feelings go
unnamed

Rachel Cook

Solitude

a morning sunbeam
quietly serenades
the sanctuary

between hymnals
last week’s bulletin

footsteps
walking on
tiptoe

metal upon metal
jingling keys

in the stillness
one voice hums
Amazing Grace

simple
solitude

just behind the altar
the janitor leans
on his broom

Faith J. Martin

 

Solitude

a morning sunbeam
quietly serenades
the sanctuary

soft footsteps on
tiptoe

hiding
between hymnals
last week’s bulletin

a subtle shuffle
of jingling keys

in the stillness
one voice hums
Amazing Grace

simple
solitude

just behind the altar
the janitor rests
on his broom

-Faith J. Martin

Going Home

we rearrange
the trunk
once more

four girls
endless chatter

Paula Abdul
screams from
the tape deck

I watch
for cheap gas

watching the sunset
just beyond
our destination

ugh.
I hate semis.

the party dies
just after
five o’clock

sipping Pepsi
to stay awake

noticing the SUV
in the next lane
… cute driver

he waves
(I blush)

long day
just another
road trip home

--Faith J. Martin

darkness on the horizon
poising the orchestra
tense arms in control

nature and man gasp
in tribute

contrast
the opening applause
dove flying

above the city—      clouds
flee their own wrath

sirens
the wailing day moon
swallowed

children huddle
under brittle desks

flash
of the muzzle
no one fires first

a moment reflected
in blindness

God’s image
eradicates
God’s image

spring field
trampled by horses

power
in the streets
lost in smoke

shadows of giants
children see dinosaur

aging
always still
the same moon

the face
ever-changing

“control” – be dammed
flooding over
varicose veins

following two roots
same origin

felled tree
drowned
in a pool of blossom

skeletoned courtyard
chalk outlines

school’s in session
three R’s
recon, retaliation, retreat

growing      drawing
a pool of sludge

business as usual
R.I.P.
rape, irradiate, pillage

marching through the city
ants

silver city
tarnishing strife
muddy gray

digging deep
to keep going

fossil fuels
greasing
the gears of war

power
to make ourselves...      fossils

death—
the city lit by souls
fireflies

domed arena crumbling
ghosts in the shell

through the gaping hole
in the sky scraper
full moon

flash
wave of fire     noise

massive bloom
        thin
        stem

Yggdrasil
roots in the wasteland

playing catch
a shadow burned
on the sidewalk

school ruins…
desk heap in the corner

cherry blossoms
ash blows
off the barren tree

never
so long
forever

 

fallen firefly

unbudded willow
at the base
a heart

beating through the branches
the flow of spring

swinging
neither going nor coming
dreaming

on the bridge
the fisherman waits

in luminous reflection
above and below him
the moon

. . . obscured
ripples in the sea

savage shimmering
surface hides
placid darkness

over the hill
a sunrise

rays running
down the ravine—
a midsummer blossom

never to open
most beautiful

on the grass
a bald monk
mourning

night’s
fallen firefly

held in tiny hands
find farewell
by the flow of the moon

quarreling lovers
hearts flicker

lightening flashes—
along the dirt path
puddles

muddy tears stream
down wrinkled cheeks

the last of the blossoms
floating dead
in the flooded ditch

memories—
lost beauty

autumn leaves
crackling under the mare’s
hooves

her colt,
no longer newborn

grown
bigger, stronger, closer
towards death

a blind man,
hunches under a lean-to

over a sparrow
toddling about
strong palms

unaware
of the mother’s watchful eye

unwanted love
given
without consequence

inside the hut
a woman weeps

pride and pain
gleam on the edge
of the silver sword

the symbol
of one soul

unpinning black tresses
of hair, the woman
under a red moon

now falling…
like the last of autumn leaves

swirling from heaven
then crumbling
on the ground

snowflakes…
momentary perfection

a traveler
walks across
the frozen pond

just before the thaw
of daybreak

before waking
to sunbeams
through the cherry blossoms

beauty, like time…
travels with you

• • •

Natalie Perfetti, Andrew Barnick, Sarah Corso, and Melanie McLay

Melanie McLay

Smoke Screen

early spring evening—
a roar of laughter
rises from our circle

waving the smoke
away from our faces

choking on sarcasm
I leave the group
to clear my lungs

in the meadow—the deer
roasting on the spit

full moon
mosquito bites
on Jerry’s ass

turning away
bile in my throat

the fire
extinguishes beneath
my sopping vomit

from across the smoke
a scavenging bear

tearing into flesh
white teeth
tipped in copper

Jerry dies after eating
112 pennies on a dare

bathing with the television
flickering lights
--abandoned kitten

adventurous pet
bloody, matted fur
on my bumper

china cracks
milk escapes
thin layer of curd

cat hunting in groups
full moon
pressed to the glass

plastic place mat--
spilt milk
on kittens and flowers

the last straw
Mommy starts to scream

the daughter wails
like her mother
--blossomed cherry

sprawled across the bed
he watches her leave
and her zipper close

the sound of denim
tingles up her spine

candles lit
lights turned low
sleeping with a cigarette

siren!
setting the atmosphere
of the smoky bedroom

running back into the flame
for her dolly

impassioned fire
sings me to sleep
as the smoke darkens my lungs

the glowing embers
of my lucid self

as the campfire
dies so do
my imaginary friends

I suddenly realize
I’m talking to nothing

in the open meadow
the vast sky
open to me

gathering his things
the storyteller
tips his hat

moonlit silhouette
a lonely tap-dance
down the river Styx

I throw away
my last empty bottle

garbage on the street
piling up next to
the cherry blossoms

pigeons on the fence
disturbed
—now flapping

stilettos
and sneakers
each finding their own way

hermaphrodite snail
is indifferent to
shoe shopping

the last street lamp
with a breeze
falls silent

empty road
full
of nothing particular

• • •

Brian Blankenship, Adam Stefo, Brian Rohde, Jamie Devitt, Pat Steadman, Rik Bearce, and Stephanie Dietrich

untitled

summer breeze
the dogwood tree’s
fragrant blossoms

hummingbirds working
to raise their family

sister’s kite
a mind of its own
flying

birthday party
spoiled by the storm

Mom’s tears
illuminated
by the moonlight

cricket’s chirping
alongside the hushed night

wedding rehearsal dinner
true feelings
exposed

the bride cowers
in the bathroom

a lone wolf’s cry
heard
over the treetops

first excursion together
sharing a tent

autumn wind
quenches
their flame

clouds form—
one more cigarette

leaning against the car
the moon as the backdrop
together

rain falls
on spring leaves

the young mother
pauses
there is never time

the baby shrieks
lunchtime already

under the cherry blossom tree
we sit
waiting out the rain

a momma squirrel and her babies
beat us to the punch

hot summer night with
bases loaded
sweating

multitasking mom
yells up for dirty laundry

rowdy kids
running wild
in potent chive fields

dinner bell rings
from mom’s strained vocals

new puppy
loose and escaping
stops to eat a tulip

after summer downpour
the green garden grows

home three minutes late
Dad at the door—
his angry eyes on

dusty frames
capture her parents’ whole story

heating up
without the sun
in back of a Chevy

cell phone rings
little sister having boy issues

moon’s water reflection
sets the mood
a mud puddle

through the passing storm
stars peek

pigtails in the doorway
with new shoes
first day of school

groans sound as the teacher commands
annotate Shakespeare’s Macbeth

soft spring breezes
blowing her curls
and up her skirt

kids- holding hands
down the hallway

longing at the
cherry blossom tree
from indoors

summer rain
cleansing the blackest surface

• • •

Liz Ciaccio
Elizabeth Braden
Global Haiku Traditions
April 4, 2006


© 2006, Randy Brooks • Millikin University • last updated: April 7, 2006
All rights returned to authors upon publication.