summer night
under the stars
we sleep

Ashley Knevich

holding her
in the warm
summer night
under the stars
we sleep

their light
is our blanket
summer night
under the stars
we sleep

toothpaste tube
squeezed
from the middle

Sarah Corso

roommates cause
unnecessary anger—
toothpaste tube
squeezed
from the middle

“That inconsiderate…”
toothpaste tube
squeezed
from the middle
“…prick.”

Sarah Corso & Adam Stefo

Two week old
Colgate
Toothpaste tube
Squeezed
From the middle

toothpaste tube
squeezed
from the middle
i smile
slightly irritated

toothpaste tube
squeezed
from the middle
irritated I smile…
men

his anger
makes me smile
toothpaste tube
squeezed
from the middle

toothpaste tube
squeezed
from the middle
drives her
…insane

Toothpaste tube
Squeezed
From the middle
To form a cone
On my tongue

Sarah Corso& & Jamie Devitt

day after
he moved in—
toothpaste tube
squeezed
from the middle

Sarah Corso & Melanie McLay

toothpaste tube
squeezed
from the middle
onto the
dinosaur toothbrush

Sarah Corso & Rachel Cook

the sergeant tensing
toothpaste tube
squeezed from the middle
very very bad

hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans

Liz Ciaccio

Brian and I really liked this initial haiku because it really seemed like it was made to be capped in this sort of style. The initial image we got from the haiku was a rather generic image of an average kid at play. By adding the capping lines, the tan-renga gains much more personality and sense of direction. Some of our favorite capped versions of this haiku were:

the quiet boy
alone—
hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans

Liz Ciaccio & Rachel Cook

hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans
the boy who
no one likes

Liz Ciaccio & Brian Rhode

We found it ironic that these two caps seem to convey a very similar message. The boy seems very out of place in that hopscotch is usually associated with young girls. If boys are involved, it’s usually because a girl is involved too. In both of these cases, the boy seems to be alone and possibly misguided. These both present very interesting images. Rick & Brian R

hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans
I forget
my scraped knee

hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans
my sister
shares my childhood

with only brothers
the little girl
hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans

poverty forgotten
while
hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans

dusty photograph
three little girls
hop scotching in
chalk-stained
jeans

Liz Ciaccio & Faith Martin

Braided pigtails
Of freckled sisters
Hop scotching in
Chalk stained
Jeans

only child
with pigtails
hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans

April sun—
sisters
hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans

shimmering sun
brightness reflected in puddles
hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans

hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans
determined not to fall
at 10

five minutes
to sundown
hopscotching in
chalk-stained
jeans

Liz Ciaccio & Traci Rapp

mother collapses
at the knock on the door—
unwanted telegram

Corrine Cullina

mother collapses
at the knock on the door--
unwanted telegram
dad is coming
home

drying her hands
from dishes
mother collapses
at the knock of the door—
unwanted telegram"

Corrine Cullina & Alisha Goebel

We chose this Tan-Renga because of the great imagery and surprise. It begins with an everyday image: a mother in the kitchen, washing the dishes. The emotion behind the scene is nothing out of the ordinary; she is simply cleaning up after dinner. There is a knock at the door and she dries her hands to answer it, but while she is drying her hands she glances out the window and sees a man in uniform carrying a telegram. That is all she needs: she knows. She knows that her husband (or son) is not coming home again. She instantly collapses on the floor, unable to answer the door. The surprise image in the last line caught our attention because the first two lines set up the scene differently then we expected. This made us feel like we were actually there with mother in the kitchen, watching her dry her hands as she collapsed. We would be just as confused sitting with her in the kitchen as we were reading the tan-renga until we either answered the door or read the last line of the tan-renga. Faith J. Martin and Erin Wyant

angry he’s forced
to kill
mother collapses
at the knock on the door--
unwanted telegram

mother collapses
at the knock on the door—
unwanted telegram
delivered by
a concerned neighbor

Mother Collapses
At the know on the door- -
Unwanted telegram
Landing gracefully
At her feet

rain pouring outside
mother collapses
at the knock on the door—
unwanted telegram
rain pouring inside

Corrine Cullina & Pat Steadman

We chose these because each one brought a totally different scene. When you first read the haiku without added lines, it really lead us to believe it was about the war and a mother receiving word that her son had died. But the difference that two lines can make is huge. There are several that still encompass the idea that the mother found her son died: we liked the one where it starts with the rain pouring outside and then she opens the door and the rain is pouring inside. That had great imagery. Ryne and Rachel

mother collapses
at the knock on the door –
unwanted telegram –
summer day
turns dark

another
final sacrifice
mother collapses
at the knock on the door—
unwanted telegram

mother collapses
at the knock on the door--
unwanted telegram
…her second-born
now the oldest

Corrine Cullina & Sarah Corso

The other one that we really liked that depicted the loss of the son was the one where the second-born suddenly becomes the oldest with the deliverance of the telegram. We both agreed that it encompassed that horrible feeling of losing a loved one and it also brought forth the small things that can change; a second-born being the oldest child in the family now. Ryne and Rachel

the morning after
daughter’s departure
mother collapses
at the knock on the door—
unwanted telegram

listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes

Alisha Goebel

listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes—
remembering
delta summers

Alisha Goebel & Melanie McLay

My group enjoyed the overall effectiveness of the caps used in this tan-renga. First of all, the entire image of summer matches well with both the changing mood of our narrator as well as the sound of a harmonica. For some reason, the bluesy twang of a harmonica is a musical sound that elicits images of southern folk, swaying back and forth on rocking chairs on rustic wooden porches during hot summer sunsets. Music is a physical element that moves and breaths and changes, almost playing off of our current emotional state as a way of shaping our mood into a more agreeable one. The notes dance before us, tantalizing us, encouraging us to embrace happiness. We find that the concept of a “delta summer” is all encompassing of the aforementioned themes. The basic function of a season is to change. We seem to be in perpetual transition between seasons as our mood seems to constantly be changing as well. Mentioning the summer as a specific season is almost an allusion to the harmonica music and the flood of other images that come along with summer – those summer images which help us strive for a brighter tomorrow. Jamie, Pat, Brian B.

listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes
the boy who
no one likes

unorthodox special music
unwillingly
listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes

listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes
and rises
with the blues

sitting around
the campfire
listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes

listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes
from anger to
unnecessary pity

listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes
from black
to white

Louisiana roots
Grounded in the big city
Listening to
His harmonica
My mood changes

pissed off
in a jail cell
listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes

deep
in the prison cell
his harmonica
my mood changes

collapsing in bed
after the longest day--
listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes

sipping coffee
listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes
to lullaby

listening to
his harmonica
my mood changes
with
the flickering of the campfire

starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath

Brian Rohde

starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath
soon…my breath
kisses hers

Beautiful
And uncomfortable—
Starry night
Holding her hand
I see my breath

starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath
but words I can’t say
burn my mouth

looking
down and up
starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath

starry night
holding her hand
i see my breath
though
i hardly breathe

cold winter evening
turning into a
starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath

starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath
as it shakes
from nervousness

starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath
the two of us
keeping warm

Overlooking the city
Van Gough’s
Starry night
Holding her hand
I see my breath

starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath
in my irrelevant
words

starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath
wax and wane
on windshield glass

starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath
vanish
into the sky

starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath
but feel
no cold

starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath
tumble around
her parted lips

starry night
holding her hand
I see my breath
is wasted
on her

in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone

Erin Wyant

This tan-renga capped was our favorite because of all the different directions it went in. Some of the haiku that came out of it were happy, some were sad and depressing, and some could have gone either way. For example:

hoping to numb
away the pain
in the twilight and
snowflakes…
I walk home alone

Erin Wyant

gives it a negative connotation. This person obviously is at a pretty rough time in their lives and is hoping to numb their pain away, walking home alone in the cold and snow. On the other hand, this haiku from the same tan-renga:

in the twilight
and snowflakes
I walk home alone-
her kiss
lingering on my lips

Erin Wyant & Liz Ciaccio

has more of an open-ended interpretation possibility. This guy could have just dropped off her girlfriend, or a girl he was just on a date with at her house. They might have just had their first kiss, or it might be something like a goodbye kiss. Either way, you know the kiss has greatly affected him and that he’s thinking about it so intently, that he barely notices that it’s cold and snowing. I think the way the original haiku in this tan-renga is able to be manipulated into emitting so many different emotions is what makes it superior.

after the party
with all of my friends
in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone

This is our favorite haiku from this tan-renga because of the “before and after” elements it has. Before the haiku is taking place, there was a party with friends, but it is up to us to fill in all of the details of the party and what actually went on. Then after the haiku takes place and after his person had gotten home, it’s again up to our imagination to think of what he’ll do next. We don’t really know if he had fun at the party and is walking home happily, or if something awful happened and that’s why he’s not walking home with any friends. Also, we like how the twilight and snowflakes can either be read to be on the friends at the party, or on the person as they walk home. Liz & Elizabeth

after the party
with all of my friends
in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone

Erin Wyant & Brian Rohde

sparkling champagne
and her twinkling smile
in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone

pretending I’m
discovering Narnia
in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone

brighter now
than the sun
in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone

in the twilight
and snowflakes…
i walk home alone
but I
am not lonely

in the twilight
and snowflakes…
i walk home lonely
though I
am not alone

hoping to numb
away the pain
in the twilight and snowflakes…
I walk home alone

Commotion of the party
Fades into the distance
In the twilight
And snowflakes…
I walk home alone

a Nativity
glowing
in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone

steps silent
as whispers
in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone

in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone
wondering when
it got so cold

Erin Wyant & Sarah Corso

in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone
for the first time
I shiver

in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone
trying to remember if
I have alzheimers or not…

bone-chilling-
the wind
in the twilight
and snowflakes…
I walk home alone

dead-end basketball hoop
playing
for both teams

Liz Ciaccio

dead-end basketball hoop
playing
for both teams
the boy who
no one likes

dead-end basketball hoop
playing
for both teams
my dad
the hero

We liked the feeling of family that this renku gave off. It reminded us of an all American down home family, but not in a corny way. The first half of the renku can be taken in many different ways, as was done by many other authors. Yet, the last two lines complete the thought and really convey the author’s affection towards his or her father. Alisha & Corrine

the crowd roars
dead-end basketball hoop
playing
for both teams
the crowd boos

dead-end basketball hoop
playing
for both team
my dedication in
a garage light spotlight

broken concrete
broken dream
dead-end basketball hoop
playing
for both teams

at the party
I relate to
the fireflies

Pat Steadman

in my dorm
I am God...
at the party
I relate to
the fireflies

At the party
I relate to
The fireflies
Looking for a mate
By flashing themselves

at the party
I relate to
the fireflies
too busy for
small talk

sitting
in the corner
at the party
I relate to
the fireflies

At the party
I relate to
The fireflies
Who offer their light
To guide me home

heaps of
socialites
at the party
I relate to
the fireflies

the only
sober one
at the party
I relate to
the fireflies

voices swirl
around me
at the party
I relate to
the fireflies

hope
for love
at the party
I relate to
the fireflies

for the first time
all alone
at the party
I relate to
the fireflies

stood up
at the party
I related to
the firelies
rum ‘n coke

at the party
I relate to
the fireflies
being pulled apart
for jewelry

   listening
to the sound
     of     snowfall

Natalie Perfetti

This is my favorite tan-renga because it leaves so much room for interpretation. I saw a lot of variety in the caps that everyone wrote—it was surprising to see how many different images could be conjured up from the same starting-off point. Here are some examples of caps for this tan-renga:

   listening
to the sound
     of    snowfall
        alone
           with my coffee

Natalie Perfetti & Rachel Cook

listening
to the sound
of snowfall
and momma’s
simmering soup

Natalie Perfetti & Liz Ciaccio

listening
to the sound
of snowfall
mother rocks
her infant

Natalie Perfetti & Rachel Cook

sirens shriek by
a deaf-mute
listening
to the sound
of snowfall

Natalie Perfetti & Ryne Inman

Each of these tan-renga conveys a different image, creates a different mood, and stirs up different senses. The first one, for example, is a very lonely moment—solemn and isolated. We feel the cold, we see the white snowflakes, and we smell (and taste) the warm coffee. In the next one, we hear the soft sizzle of boiling water, and momma’s presence creates a feeling of companionship and protection. The third tan-renga also creates a safe atmosphere with the presence of a mother, but this time the image is altered—mother is rocking her baby. Finally, the last tan-renga completely disturbs the sense of winter calm with loud sirens (which imply tragedy).

I think the reason this tan-renga works so well and in so many diverse ways is because of the suggestiveness of the three original lines. Snowfall is silence, so it technically produces no sound. The paradox of this suggestion, then, leaves room for varying interpretations: is the speaker listening to the complete silence? is the speaker suggesting a comparison between the falling snow and the sound of something just as soft and gentle? or is it supposed to create irony; someone is not hearing what is actually making noise around him, but instead focusing on the calm silence of the snowfall?

Essentially, the reason this tan-renga is so great is because it is extremely thought-provoking. Melanie McLay

the silence
thunders
   listening
to the sound
     of     snowfall

   listening
to the sound
of      snowfall
I dream of peace
      …and quiet

listening
to the sound
of snowfall
utterly
undisturbed

Listening
To the sound
Of snowfall
We glide
Across the ice

Natalie Perfetti & Jamie Devitt

Listening
To the sound
Of snowfall
Notes of heaven
Grace our lashes

Natalie Perfetti & Jamie Devitt

sirens shriek by
a deaf-mute
listening
to the sound
of snowfall

quietly
listening
to the sound
of snowfall
falling

wintry night
on the veranda
listening
to the sound
of snowfall

mesmerizing flames
I search for words
to make it right

Rachel Cook

mesmerizing flames
I search for words
to make it right
but only reach
for her palm

Mesmerizing flames
I search for words
To make it right—
Why should
She trust me?

last bonfire
your eyes fixated on the
mesmerizing flames
I search for words
to make it right

back and forth
my thoughts flicker
mesmerizing flames
I search for words
to make it right

mesmerizing flames
i search for words
to make it right
but the smoke
chokes my voice

mesmerizing flames
I search for words
to make it right
but rather than listen
…she burns me instead

silent dance
your eyes of
mesmerizing flames
I search for words
to make it right

Avoiding the guilt
I stare into
Mesmerizing flames
I search for words
To make it right

rampant arson—
Mother stares into
mesmerizing flames
I search for words
to make it right

Rachel Cook & Melanie McLay

Allison and I chose this as our favorite cap because the use of an arsonist is unexpected. It highlights the speaker’s inability to say anything to make this horrible situation right. Rampant implies that it is not just this house or a single meek operation. It is a bold statement and the fact that it put someone’s close family member in harms way shows the audacity and violence they possess. It puts this family into a fiery state of vulnerability. The fire has taken everything they owned and simple words to help the situation cannot even be found. The person had her power taken away in one swift action. —Traci Rapp, Allison Lingren

in the brick fireplace
blue and orange dance—
mesmerizing flames
I search for words
to make it right

the brilliant
mesmerizing flames
I search for words
to make it right
in the dark silence

heat of the
summer bonfire
mesmerizing flames
I search for words
to make it right

seeing the bruises
I glance away
mesmerizing flames
I search for words
to make it right

early in May
I'm told
I'll be a sister

Sarah Corso

early in May
I’m told
I’ll be a sister
they found
my long lost brother

early in May
I’m told
I’ll be a sister
the puppy
I’ve always wanted

my summer plans
fade away when
early in May
I’m told
I’ll be a sister

morning sunshine
peeks inside
early in May
I’m told
I’ll be a sister

Early in May
I’m told
I’ll be a sister
And suddenly
I become wiser

early in May
I’m told
I’ll be a sister—
a Lily of the Valley
blossoms

sun shines
on unbloomed daffodils
early in May
I’m told
I’ll be a sister

after ten years
of peace and quiet
early in May
I’m told
I’ll be a sister

more surprising
than Dad’s vasectomy
early in May
I’m told
I’ll be a sister

saving the worm
from
the hook

Alisha Goebel

saving the worm
from
the hook
Uncle Earl
reflects on Korea

saving the worm
from
the hook
I put him in
my pocket

already freed
the fish
saving the worm
from
the hook

saving the worm
from
the hook,
yet
he no longer squirms

saving the worm
from
the hook
I choose the chicken liver
Instead

cousin John
nods in shame
he’s saving the worm
from
the hook

Saving the worm
From
The hook
Pretending not to see
My grandfather chuckles

six years old
in muddy overalls
saving the worm
from
the hook

to her
mercy is
saving the worm
from
the hook

on a lukewarm day
saving the worm
from
the hook
clouds part

saving the worm
from
the hook
dad rolls his eyes
but chuckles

late at night
the hippie daughter
saving the worm
from
the hook

Alisha Goebel & Ryne Inman

I drop
the bait bucket
saving the worm
from
the hook

chubby fingers
and determination
saving the worm
from
the hook

saving the worm
from the hook
for my garden
of onions

fishing trip
a young girl
saving the worm
from
the hook

a beautiful man
subjecting himself
to a spider’s web

Jamie Devitt

a beautiful man
subjecting himself
to a spider’s web
—his wings are eaten
first

Jamie Devitt & Adam Stefo

Our group liked this capped Ten-Renga the best for reasons of imagery symbolism. To start off, there is a great sense of imagery in the is haiku that really allows one to visualize this being trapped in a web. The poem says that the man is being subjected to the web, which implies that the being is doing this by decision. The contrast of the beautiful man, a positive image against the sinister theme of the spider web is great. Similarly, the imagery produced ties in with the symbolism evident in this haiku. The “man” could be almost anything, human, animal, state of mind, they are all pretty much possible. If it is a man, then the theme is of one subjecting themselves to a spider web can be talking of someone subjecting themselves to the trappings of the world around them, the eaten wing would then symbolize him losing the ability to be free and make his own decisions. If it is an animal, or more specifically a bug, then the poem is more clear cut and it is a piece about a bug, which possibly looks as if it’s a man, or one whose struggle represents those of mankind’s. Andrew Barnick, Natalie Perfetti & Sarah Corso

A beautiful man
Subjecting himself
To a spider’s web
Again he is tangled
in her web of lies

a beautiful man
subjecting himself
to a spider’s web
the ugly truth of a
modern-day fairy tale

a beautiful man
subjecting himself
to a spider’s web
of deceit
…and lies

the silent eve
trumpeting his steps
sidewalk salt

Traci Rapp

the silent eve
trumpeting his steps
sidewalk salt
crunching beneath
Santa’s boots

the silent eve
trumpeting his steps
sidewalk salt
ice melting
and freezing again

Santa comes in
through the side door
the silent eve
trumpeting his steps
sidewalk salt

the silent eve
trumpeting his steps
sidewalk salt
in spastic
crunch