Renga
Renga I did with the Oxford Poetry Library
A renga is a collaborative poem that follows the haiku and couplet format. In the workshop in Oxford, we started by going through some haikus and then couplets and read some traditional contemplate renga forms. Our renga was done going around in the circle. It was a lovely experience because even though our voices are unique, everything connected together. The bold text is my contribution.
I love how leaves fall
In the blue of November
In the drift of clouds
☁️
A haze of questions leave me
The answer is soft rainfall
🌧️
Love sees reveal to all
In the hue I remembers
A sound falls into
🌊
Who are we to each other,
You say, I say, and we fail
🌸
But keep soft footsteps
Through fallen nature and gold leaves
Crunches, echoing
🍂
Can we walk together in
The silence of leaves and thought
🍃
Throughout the whist mist
Fiji-san gave her blessing
To travelers’ feet
🏔️
They walked on happy with their care
Into the most and clouds
The swallows have left l, what a long way to go
There’s hope in their return
🦅
Geese honk in cold night
I lie in sleepless flight breath
Carried on their wings
🪿
Sea of eyes darting my way
Following me in shades
About the Creator
Chloe Gilholy
Former healthcare worker and lab worker from Oxfordshire. Author of ten books including Drinking Poetry and Game of Mass Destruction. Travelled to over 20 countries.
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis7 days ago in Humans
Comments (2)
This is really beautiful Chloe. I saw Hannah's Renga articles and found this one which was done prior to hers. I love libraries and all the fun stuff in the summer.
Awesome 👍🏾 Thank you for sharing the sample picture as well ❤️