Renga – Grip (qbit/Jilly)

To understand the curl that distance
makes with homesick fingers,

To itch beyond calamine,
cursed out of your name,

By the flat of a shovel
struck into dirt.

Arthritic with weeds that
rash from your mouth,

Your voice staccato,
tattoo of mothers and thistles

Can’t brand deep enough;
you start and end with blood.

 

 

Conspirators: qbit, Jilly

Renga Challenge -Sarah/Qbit

Love and longing and technology by Sarah and me!

Fmme writes poems

Windows

Come and stand beside me at the window,
the world is out there waiting for us,
the way we used to wait for first and second post,
news of lovers stepping out from their rooms.
Now we just wait for them to post
selfies from their bedrooms or their bathrooms –
Seconds from you now in postscripted time,
never farther from what we first needed:

Though now I’m not sure what it is you need,
your window on the world has shrunk so much,
Careful not to lose your sight
on the cutting points of pixel light.
While your fingers dance their tango
Over that smooth, slick touchscreen
I breathe in, arms outstretched, the stars
my orchestra, the garden my ballroom.
I am dancing in the moonlit air,
My skin alive with the scent of night
and you, and you, and you, and you!

How we move together in…

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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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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

Fusion

I blew up last night
while you were asleep.
Between your soft breaths
my fuse was lit –
twelve seconds – not much
time to run away
from myself to safety.

An unstable charge
That has no out but in,
Its umbilical reactor
Collapsing in hot fusion
Of your skin and mine,
Where you dreamt
The center of the sun.

 

From Charley’s “Casting Bricks” challenge “Destruct”
Charley in bold, mine follows.