renga with basho

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai’s ”Renga Challenge” create a renga with haiku by Basho.


 

rainy season

sea glow lights held up

by the night watchman

pale koi bubble to surface

paddle junk into harbor

 

the blue sea

in waves smelling of saké

tonight’s full moon

sitting with friend on the beach

quietly sip from warm cup

 

on a bare branch

a crow settled down

autumn evening

vermillion koyo fallen

colors faded with sunset

 

 


Haiku © Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)           Renga response © lynn__

purple dreams

Kortney at Tweetspeak Poetry hosts Monday prompts, tanka this week.


 

I come weary,
In search of an inn—
Ah! these wisteria flowers!

–by Matsuo Basho, translated by William George Aston

 

purple moon blooms in doorway
scent welcomes dream traveler

– by lynn

image: groupon.co.uk

 

tidal hypnosis

 

man in the moon smiles

beckons to insomniacs

come, be mesmerized

 

Unknown

moon lamp

 

on a silent night

 

Here I use a haiku by Chevrefeuille to create a “troiku” which is a unique form invented by our host at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai.  Like a Russian troika, the original haiku is the “sleigh” pulled by the 3 “horses”/haiku verses.


 

silent night

snow falls softly on the graveyard

the Savior is born

©Chevrefeuille

 

on a silent night

cold moon casts wolf’s grey shadow

abrupt bunny tracks

_____

snow falls softly on

the graveyard where family

lays fir bough wreath

_____

the Savior is born!

child in manger embodies

resurrection hope

© lynn__

 

luna(r)cy

Fireblossom at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads challenges us to write a new poem “looking through a distorted lens”…I think Alice in Wonderland stuff of dreams or Salvador Dali surrealism.  

 

moon is a balloon

i swallow her whole;

now rise from ground,

suffocating in choked

screams at dream demon

until i, balloon-shaped,

reach sharp tree twig–

spring a leak, go hissing

hysterically thru galaxies,

finally flop limp to earth,

flattened and deflated.

searching for helium

… settle for valium.

 

 

egg painting

An “American sentence” is made of 17 syllables…usually not so pretty  🙂

 

Easter egg moon waxes yello-quently on indigo sateen sky.

haloed moisture

 

round porthole window

hazy, lazy, crazy moon

holds back rain’s curtain

 

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photo (enhanced) by lynn

ocean of space

 

Full moon is like white halibut, slipping through nets of fishermen trees.

 

 


Inspired by full moon and book, Crossing the Waters, by Leslie Leyland Fields, an Alaskan fisher(wo)man.

cord of light

 

halo around moon

belly button of the sky

umbilical cut

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photo by lynn

harvesting the moon

Linking with dVerse Poets for Haibun Monday…

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November 2016 “super moon” 


 

I remember the harvest moon when we still picked corn. My husband’s father hunkered inside the tractor-mounted picker on a clear October night. He throttled ahead, pushing the machine’s snouts into the rows of dry corn, stripping off ears, spitting them into the trailing wagon and leaving bent stalks in its wake. At the end of the field, the satisfied farmer unhitched his full wagon by pulling a rope and riding ahead to wait.

Raised as city girl and college-educated, I learned to drive tractor and maneuver an empty wagon behind the picker, unhitch, then turn to back tractor in front of full wagon. It was like a mechanical dance when performed smoothly. I’d hop down and run to lift tongue of empty wagon in line as picker slowly backed to it until holes lined up and I could drop hitch pin into place. Dad turned machine back into standing corn for next pass across field where my husband met him with another empty wagon.

After hitching up full wagon, I’d climb back on tractor, and haul my load to a corn crib; one of our round wire cribs or a wooden-slat shed. I drove straight past the folded elevator; dismounted to lower heavy hopper to ground. Climbed on tractor again to back the wagon against hopper and raise wagon box with hydraulic hoist, tipping it back.  A utility tractor ran the elevator as I reached over to open/close the wagon’s small back door to allow rolling corn ears to fall into the hopper at my feet. A moving chain with metal flights carried the corn up, up, up to top of roof where it dumped ears into open crib.

I wore earplugs to deaden the noise, my skin chafed in the cold wind, my eyes protested the dust and my body fought fatigue after an already long day of harvest (switching wagon, hauling load, emptying wagon, repeat).  But to witness an abundant crop under a beautiful moon felt like God smiling his blessing on us.
 

shadow hides raccoon

full moon rises on cornfields

kernels of plenty

 

evening glow

Joining dVerse Poetics prompt:  moon muse personified…

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photo by lynn

 

One beautiful summer’s eve, Moon hosted a gala dinner party on Earth’s patio but did not invite Sun (understandably, as he always seems to outshine her best efforts and makes a point of it).  The Stars, however, like to imitate Sun’s braggadocio and would have enjoyed bringing his ego down a notch.  Miss Moon animated the night, elegant (as always) in her pale dress with feathery cloud shawl caressing her white shoulders.  The Stars regaled their gracious host with tales of the Hunter and Great Bear.  They all joined in the ancient songs, illuminating the night sky.  A misty-eyed Moon finally bid farewell to the fading planets and slipped into bed just before the jilted Sun blazed hot on the horizon.

 

moon reflects sun’s face

heavenly bodies sing praise

shine created light

 

 

 

 

 

silently the snow

Link to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai  “fresh snow”

photo by lynn

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moon rises softly

glowing fullness blushes pink

snow glistens on roof

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