Charley/qbit Renga

This Renga boldly goes where no Renga has gone before! (There’s probably a good reason for that, LOL!) Take your pick, time, puns, camels, rockets, we have it all!

Life in Portofino

Saturdays are promises misspoken that carry
ammunition for the week.  We enter

a range of exhaustion,
bullet bright, concentric motifs

that rifle us past the Sun.  Mooning our loss
of respite from the race, a legion rattles

Is velocity even a question?
What deserts scorched at perihelion?

Melting sands swirl – camels in glass.
Weapons droop into ploughshares.

Still the hardened days untillable,
“until” hocked like a promissory

note.  Hooked on through dies Martis.
Humpday comes as oasis breather.

Then Fire-day our trial by splitting
the distance between caravanserai

and the Gobi-tween.  Dates blend.
Hookah left at the next pyramid.

Time burnt in offering, smoking skyward.
The camels shift nervously in their traces.

qbit has taken up my Renga Challenge as a part of Jilly’s January Casting Bricks to Attract Jade Challenge

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Sweet Peas Renga – Jilly/qbit

Wild ride Renga by Jilly and me. Hold on to your hats, and enjoy the creative process in the comments!

Jilly's

qbit has taken up my Renga Challenge – it is bound to be…interesting; stick around!   Jilly’s January Challenge of Casting Bricks to Attract Jade is in full swing.  Join us; everyone is welcome!

Like sweet peas in water colors
echoes cross the river

Our dung, our beetled life, our turvey sleep,
we fall into carapaces and disjointed limbs

Guttering wings
grid of prophecies emeralding mold

Divined by eyes upon our backs
that see us once, see us twice

Skittering wake caroms,
threatens our sight; our sight

Our slight, slightest, lightest
saucy flight our taste of heaven

Indigo’s bitter blue
crushes, crunches veins of penicillin

Skewered through the helix,
twinned and twined to origins

Euphrates yellows our canvas
diminished chords return unanswered

Tigris Tigris burning bright
our garden silenced by such fire.

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Leap Sleep

 

Ferry breaking ice.  Nantucket MA, 2018
Ferry breaking ice, Nantucket Harbor, New Year’s Day, 2018

 

That unbeknownst to all,
slumber requires
a leap dream –
like a leap year –
an extra turn or toss
of night
to true up
the gaps in our days,
alms, for shadows
gone begging.

And explains, so, finally,
never feeling quite
caught up
to ourselves.

 

 

For dVerse Quadrille #47

E-Z 2018 Resolutions

I think it is important to put some early/easy wins on the board regarding New Year’s resolutions. Create momentum!

Starting with some basics:

  • Find my socks.
  • Use turn signals when driving.
  • Which reminds me, need to change the oil.

Lessee, what else?

  • Perfect acting like I’m paying attention in meetings. Huge poetry writing payoff!
  • Hmmm… wife’s BS detector is pretty good when I try that on her. Needs research.
  • Play frisbee with dog. Can’t go wrong there.
  • Stand up for myself that really, no, I just don’t care for eggplant. No thank you. Really. I know it’s probably excellent, but please just accept no for an answer. Please.
  • Prove to the wife once and for all that my way to walk to the ferry is ten feet shorter than hers. OK, no, don’t do that.

Need some more quick hits!

  • Don’t need that 5th (6th?) cup of coffee.
  • Nah, scratch that.
  • Watch the Super Bowl even if the Patriots don’t make it.
  • Change the batteries in the nose hair trimmer. (Good!)
  • Simplify wardrobe – wear spandex tights to work instead of trousers.

OK, that’s a wrap. See y’all in the New Year!

 

For Toad’s 2018 Resolutions

Sound Thinking

The temperature dropped like a stone –
Which made me think
That invisible, freezing rocks must be
Falling from the sky
So I should stay inside.

But no. I wondered instead if could hear
All the pebbles and rocks along the road
Shrinking in their skins
With the same silence as ice
Cracking from cold.

Or maybe down at the beach sand
Might be singing, the way it does in summer,
Except Christmas Carols and Auld Lang Syne.
Hard to hear much over
The sound of the ocean shivering,

The waves coming in
And stamping their feet,
As they try to shake off
This North Atlantic chill
Just down from Labrador.

For The Twiglets

Renga – Winds Can’t Heal (Jilly/qbit)

Harry P. Leu Gardens. Copyright Jill Lyman, al rights reserved.
Harry P. Leu Gardens, by Jilly

What the winds can’t heal
The contrails sever

Winter howls
from a wounded sky

Spliced fragments of discontent
litter the cutting room floor

Boneyard
Of the hunched and hungry

Light that has never shone
Moloch’s restless domain

Its bitter meal
usurps our Threnody

Offspring of the beatnik fringe
slice their tongues on prosody

Their teeth drowned red
from parsing wine

The young so wise
abbreviated flights in time

Dovetail earth and sky
mulled, singular, primed

Conspirators:
Jilly, qbit

Jilly’s Renga Challenge – Winds Can’t Heal
For Jilly’s December Casting Bricks