Friday, November 15, 2013
10 comments:
- Geoffrey A. Landis said...
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Credits:
First stanza: Ray McNiece
Second stanza: Geoffrey A. Landis
Third stanza: Joshua Gage - November 15, 2013 at 7:26 PM
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red and gold mottled leaves
falling past scenes
of someone laying a wreath - November 15, 2013 at 7:38 PM
- Geoffrey A. Landis said...
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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... - November 15, 2013 at 7:59 PM
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the rag-man's shadow
echo of an old lover - November 15, 2013 at 8:42 PM
- pottygok said...
- This comment has been removed by the author.
- November 16, 2013 at 2:22 PM
- pottygok said...
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jasmine incense
in a frost of moonlight
her discarded thong - November 16, 2013 at 2:32 PM
- Geoffrey A. Landis said...
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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) - November 16, 2013 at 9:33 PM
- Geoffrey A. Landis said...
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cold, the smell of winter:
first snowflakes sparkle in the air - November 17, 2013 at 7:16 PM
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Public Square:
privatized
and empty - November 19, 2013 at 2:57 PM
- Holly Jensen said...
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Statues of soldiers--
their cast iron eyes downcast--
retreat from my love. - November 28, 2013 at 2:06 PM
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