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Friday, November 15, 2013

Cleveland Collaborative Renga-- Start


autumn cemetery
what would the dead give to hear
leaves crumbling under feet?

       from the hilltop, through bare trees
     towers gleam in evening sun

          scarecrow 
          the chirrup of the squirrel's 
          silhouette 

              the rag-man's shadow
              echo of an old lover

                  jasmine incense

                  in a frost of moonlight
                  her discarded thong

                     cold, the smell of winter:
                     first snowflakes sparkle in the air


                          Public Square:

                          privatized
                          and empty



Background info:

10 comments:

Geoffrey A. Landis said...

Credits:
First stanza: Ray McNiece
Second stanza: Geoffrey A. Landis
Third stanza: Joshua Gage

Beverly Zeimer said...

red and gold mottled leaves
falling past scenes
of someone laying a wreath

Geoffrey A. Landis said...

Hi, Beverly!

Thanks for the verse.
Hold on to it-- as the renku host, I'm going to not incorporate it yet, for a couple of reasons.
First, I made a mistake when I first posted-- verse 4 is actually no season, not autumn (my bad). But, second: the verses alternate 3-line and two-line, and this is the 2-line verse.
--however, autumn will cycle back...

maryturzillo said...

the rag-man's shadow
echo of an old lover

pottygok said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
pottygok said...

jasmine incense
in a frost of moonlight
her discarded thong

Geoffrey A. Landis said...

As a quick note, the next (3-line) staza completes the opening section of the renga ("jo"). Remember I said that a poet isn't allowed to contribute two stanzas in a row, except for a few complicated exceptions?
Well, this is one of those exceptions: the poet who writes the next line can also start the next section, by contributing the two lines that follow (either continuing in winter, or with no season-- your choice)

Geoffrey A. Landis said...

cold, the smell of winter:
first snowflakes sparkle in the air

dan smith said...

Public Square:
privatized
and empty

Holly said...

Statues of soldiers--
their cast iron eyes downcast--
retreat from my love.

Cited...

The poet doesn't invent. He listens. ~Jean Cocteau