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Autumn in Venice -
a passenger boards
the origami barge
a spice so sweet,
the moonlight on silk
calculus
at the edge of thought
escaping resolution
no other purpose
but to disturb the dust
healing the scars
from boiling henna
in an iron pan
a barrel of lant
to tan the walrus hide
his anorak
put on backwards
the shaman does the deed
praise and thanks
for the bride's virginity
little lambs cavort
as well they ought
and not be naughty
his dog cherry cane
clack-clacking down the path
it's the ocean
you can smell from here,
the boundless sky above
the wild pearl
unaware of imperfection
I stole a kiss
that night we met
the ferris wheel broke down
you promised me a ride
in a red convertible
a rumble in the switchyard,
distant train horns
long and low
the monkey and his master
do the rounds
Tzetzka: 1, 5, 8, 12, 14
John: 3, 6, 9, 11, 16
Willie: 2, 4, 7, 10, 13, 15
Tzetzka Ilieva, Marietta, Georgia, USA
John Carley, Rossendale, Lancashire, England
William Sorlien (sabaki), St. Paul, Minnesota, USA
The Origami Barge first appeared in A Hundred Gourds 3:2
Quartet: Bronze Frog
one more scooter
darts through the intersection -
lingering heat
half-thawed mooncakes
on a plate by the sink
the mission priest
adding water to wine,
testing our spirit
before the aria
the tenor's bated breath
***
with a swish and thump!
a pinecone makes its way
to the ground
the school girl's glasses
gotten frosty in the cold
some pink, some orange -
yarn bombed seats
in the morning train
our new sales promotion
geared to get results
***
rumor has it
uncle took a bride
without a dowry
a timid man is late
to view the blossom
one leg stretched,
the bronze frog pauses ...
before moving again
a daub of fresh paint
on the old tavern's crest
***
sign spinners
their dexterous displays
on every other corner
scraps from verses
we haven't yet written
does anyone remember
the year
without a summer?
fields of rosemary
from here to the horizon
Composed by E-mail, November 1 to 24, 2013
Tzetzka Ilieva, Georgia, USA
William Sorlien, Minnesota, USA
Sorlien: 1, 3, 6, 8. 10, 12, 13, 15
Ilieva: 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, 14, 16
This renku appeared in World Haiku Review, January, 2014
The Island
the midday heat —
a drunken wasp
drowning in my glass
taller than the corn,
ripples blur the grey
every now and then
the voice of Jesus
from the SatNav
one errant keystroke
beyond a state of grace
----------
banished to the island
a poet
and his misty moon
a twist of wood smoke
sweet as any fish
amidst the roar
of plows and graders
groves of aspen quiver
any moment now
the feedback loop
-----------
the clock's slow drag,
she ticks off a box
in the personal ads
ice at the windows,
baggage at the door
the weight
too much to carry,
a footprint in the snow
so much for the students
and their placards
----------
don't forget your duty
to inform
on friends and neighbours
pouring gasoline
to burn a bit of trash
bright young couples
cradle lapdogs
underneath the blossom
brave butterflies,
we're off to gather scrap
John Carley and William Sorlien
by email
14th August 2013 to 4th September 2013
Carley: #1, #3, #6, #8, #10, #12, #13, #15
Sorlien: #2, #4, #5, #7, #9, #11, #14, #16
Quartet: The Island first appeared in Moongarlic, issue 1
