Renku

 Once Upon A Time ...

***

a renku – written by Tim Chamberlain & Isabella Mori

(2026)

 

 

Nihonga painting by Kazuyuki Sutoh

 

the gentle clink

and crack of ice –

warm summer moon

 

cocktail umbrella –

a dandelion seed

twirls by

 

two moths –

dancing into

the early hours

 

big smile

and blood

in the dancing shoes

 

a tap

at the window –

whispering dawn light

 

all is forgotten

sunlight pours

onto the sand

 

an hourglass

avails us only

a minute more

 

raw egg

too impatient

to cook

 

eyeing

the open sky –

soft-shelled crab

 

a whale of a time

remembering

my healthy days

 

tracing a line –

memories

golden edged

 

gold mine

Disney cashing in

on my nostalgia

 

white teeth

cutting into

the apple’s red skin

 

married

almost thirty years

my life’s a fairytale

 

ink on the page

refusing to dry –

always a new leaf

 

dumpster diving –

a pair of sneakers

 for her birthday

 

each coil of candle

smoke turning

wishes into wisps

 

reading fantasy …

on my black steed I’m a knight

saving the kingdom

 

never-ending –

we fight the nothingness

welling within

 

Seven of Swords the thief’s card

 

crow plops

another pebble

into the pitcher

 

thinking of monks …

so much hops

in this beer

 

echo of empty

barrels rolled over

smooth flagstones

 

constant traffic noise

squirrels chitter

in the attic

 

a litter of broken

hazelnuts shells –

apple blossoms stir

 

root cellar

the old cidermaker

hides her recipe

 

savouring the taste

of sunshine –

summer dew

 

foxes in the shadow watch

a dance around

the solstice fire

 

crossing Orion’s belt –

earthshine from

a lost satellite

 

Sun in Cancer

Moon in Virgo –

tidying my father’s mess

 

chamois leather –

polishing the

family silver

 

whisking matcha a fly looks on

 

steam curls from

the kettle spout –

the cat yawns

 

nineteen years …

a last drive

to the vet’s office

 

gone –

leaving a hole

time won’t fill

 

gun laws …

he picks out a gravestone

for his son

 

polished pink marble –

sprayed with cut-grass

 

sunset

the old gardener

and his back

 

sweeping up –

another broken

flowerpot

 

peonies and buttercups the nostalgia

 

the innkeeper

underlines the last

entry in his ledger

 

the way we were –

researching

“how to travel by carriage”

 

mirroring the characters

on a tin of Quality Street

 

my grandson asks

“what’s a bowler hat?” …

yellowed photographs

 

lifting the furled

umbrella he took

everywhere

 

reading

grandfather’s diary

my birth day page fifty

 

resting on the arm

a cup of tea

I’ve forgotten

 

company’s coming

under the sofa

an old dog toy

 

the vase framed

by the window –

fresh flowers

 

wind chimes …

a burglar

on the balcony

 

shifting shadows –

the dog growls

 

afraid of the dark –

a votive candle

with holy Mary

 

sipping red wine –

I try to commune

with the wind outside

 

so much nectar

a bee falls asleep

in a foxglove

 

cowslips –

brushed by

the horse’s teeth

 

Mexican farmhand

the vineyard

learns Spanish

 

finding a connection –

two amigos without

a common language

 

side eye

I don’t want to know

what she thinks

 

pondering

the unfathomable –

counting clock ticks

 

barely awake the alarm relentless

 

bleary eyed

toothbrush in hand –

radio weather report

 

rice and daikon

or ham and eggs …

fog rises into the sun

 

from east to west

crossing the meridian –

a lone cloud

 

Vancouver shopping mall

a kimono on display

 

of its own accord –

my phone’s loyalty

point app awakens

 

can of beer

fishing for quarters

in my jeans pockets

 

small change …

vending machine tabs

turning red to blue

 

can’t think so hungry –

rattling the closed

front door

 

TV dinner

sound down –

phone scrolling

 

talk show –

the guest proud

of her boob job

 

faux ingénue –

tittering to the

old host’s innuendos

 

wisdom

he thinks

a beard is enough

 

reading Chicken

Soup for the Soul –

turning a corner

 

junk bonds …

my mom hiding

my trashy novels

 

pulp fiction –

confusing the beginning

with the end

 

midnight …

a bottle of vodka

and a stack of books

 

navigating between

reading light

and fridge light

 

these dreams

about my ex …

spiderweb

 

all the things

that might have been –

wrapped in silk

 

a garment worker

yearns for her daughter

one stitch at a time

 

smiling –

the doctor says

the wound has healed well

 

thin scar …

the time for fighting

long gone

 

stepping down from

his soap box –

he rests on his laurels

 

old age –

crying in my pillow

or is it laughing

 

savouring the scent

of fresh linen –

April morning

 

daffodils rolling away the stone of winter

 

the empty park

echoes –

a jogger’s footfalls

 

sleepy neighbourhood …

the silent paws of a coyote

and her cubs

 

padding through –

scent of rain

imminent

 

green burial –

maybe next life

an earthworm

 

taking root …

watching the seasons

change

 

light heat

looking for early summer kigo

in my saijiki

 

blowing dust off

the old almanac –

an open window

 

let the sunshine in

a puff on a joint

and an old song

 

living on Love Street –

a house and garden

 

it didn’t

quite turn out –

sexual revolution

 

implacable –

rallying to

different banners

 

false flag –

a mole

bites its own tail

 

going to ground

again –

early morning mist

 

into the sunset

the old Cessna’s

last flight

 

head in the clouds

and heart

in his mouth

 

the romance

of mountaintops –

a Sherpa’s sweat

 

listening –

the gentle flap

of prayer flags

 

looking away …

the Rinpoche’s

16-year-old girlfriend

 

her school bag –

weighed down with

trinkets n teddy bears

 

humming

a Buddy Holly tune –

my mother’s first petticoat

 

inheriting

more than merely

an outlook

 

dung beetle –

a billionaire

squats on a pile of gold

 

guarding his ball

from all others –

supposedly in the game

 

Soccer Sunday

fetching my dad

beer and smokes

 

calling time –

the barman

rings the bell

 

pitch dark outside

my last quarter

stuck in the jukebox

 

record on repeat –

we pick up

where we left off

 

rage –

a CD case

crushed underfoot

 

cut crystal

and bubbles –

raising a toast

 

he likes

his caviar expensive –

minimum wage

 

fishing for compliments –

tax dodging philanthropist

 

wolf in sheep’s clothing

he shrugs

into his Armani

 

brand new –

off the peg

Golden Fleece

 

taken to the cleaners

divorced guy laments

only sixty per cent

 

in his cups –

half full

or half empty?

 

an optimist

walks into a bar –

sunshine and puppy tails

 

adjusting the optics –

donning his

aviator shades

 

Rolling Stones –

when there was nothing more important

than to be cool

 

feeling licked –

gently rocking

forty winks

 

Her Majesty –

the cat sleeps

on a velvet pillow

 

finding himself –

in the dog house again

without realising it

 

through the grace of God

or was it a therapist –

happy marriage

 

weathering the seasons –

sharing summer warmth

and winter colds

 

eighty-nine –

the first snowdrop

of her last year

 

grandkids crowding close –

savouring the soft

warmth of her hands

 

1929

the year

of her blossoming

 

free-wheeling

all the way down

after the crash

 

a brief revival

then more destruction

 

rekindling

the flame –

we soldier on

 

where have

all the flowers gone …

climate change

 

desert rain –

dampening the dust

sprinkler arcs

 

summer downpour …

all the poets love the word

petrichor

 

dictionary thudding shut –

reminded once again

he forgets

 

grandfather’s attic

the smell

of old books

 

linseed oil and

old canvas –

a forgotten portrait

 

turpentine

a pine tree

weeps

 

needle

and thread –

running through

 

Indus river

in Pakistan just as wet

as in India

 

successfully

crossing the cataract –

a paper boat

 

drowning

in bureaucracy –

cut of a thousand knives

 

inky fingers –

making a mistake

in triplicate

 

rage –

the micromanger

points at a comma

 

punctual to the last –

his empty desk

so quickly forgotten

 

brushes lined up just so

no-one to fill

the ink well

 

so loud the sound –

wiping crumbs

from his lips

 

cockroaches, rats –

no people left

on earth

 

null and void –

staring into

the mirror

 

below zero

trout move

under ice

 

rainbow tickling

the sky –

elsewhere

 

travel bug –

the grass *is* greener

in Ireland

 

taste of Guinness

from a plastic glass –

Saint Patrick’s Day

 

manufactured

potato famine …

gold knives in the castle

 

watching clouds

sailing straight

over Ellis Island

 

so naïve

still carrying a torch

for freedom

 

a word

to the wise –

wasted

 

a tooth-gapped smile

from the guy

going through our garbage

 

looking for

a life ring amid

the unending gyre

 

The Wheel –

it keeps showing up

in my tarot readings

 

carefully pouring

lines of coloured sand –

making a mandala

 

desert windstorm –

meditation on

impermanence

 

a clean slate –

but the same old

school room

 

ten times twelve is …?

math’s too hard

he says

 

a pocket calculator

hidden somewhere

in all this baggage

 

CTRL-ALT-DEL

never enough

swear words

 

jarring sentiments –

putting another penny

in the pot

 

elbows on the table my mother cringes

 

the clocks ticks

so slowly –

all the time in the world

 

ten-year sentence

each minute

glacial

 

icy stare –

looking out from

the broken pane

 

trembling hands

the rattle of wine glass

against teeth

 

toying …

with the cork

on the tablecloth

 

starched serviettes

and ramrod straight

footmen

 

listening to

the tinkle of cutlery

on fine bone china

 

a drop

of cook’s blood

in the fish soup

 

aubergine skins

surfacing, sleek

as killer whales

 

flirting with

himself in the mirror –

leather pants

 

she watches –

keeping his eyes steady

as she turns his head

 

she loves me

she loves me not –

a daisy bereft

 

breezing by –

unable to pin

the butterfly’s wings

 

something in the air

a wolf sniffs

the stench of human

 

whiling away the

long evening hours

re-reading Jack London

 

urban rewilding –

we let the lawnmower

rust

 

wild flowers

quick to return –

making a beeline

 

apocalypse

averted

the air is clear

 

dawn freshness –

a deep breath before

diving in

 

polar bear swim

a year

of new hope

 

lighting a candle

amid the enormity –

the cathedral creaks

 

behind the altar

a mouse nibbles

on a communion wafer

 

before he begins –

the organist rearranges

his gown

 

across times

Glenn Gould

hums with Bach

 

well-tempered –

waiting outside

chin on paws

 

hand buried

in cat fur …

heartbeats

 

paw prints on vellum –

monk’s midnight

companion

 

orphaned …

a bowl of water

at the street corner

 

traffic lights

changing over

an empty street

 

on the pavement

dried vomit

and a crumpled dollar bill

 

old money –

paying peppercorn rents

for age-old privileges

 

playing tennis

at the country club –

a buck for the ballboy

 

crowds

eyeing clouds –

Wimbledon weather

 

sound only

can’t see past

the hats

 

lost looks –

wedding guests

peruse the seating plan

 

gold-rimmed napkins

and a drunk uncle –

first trimester

 

bride and groom

dancing –

to your song

 

once upon a time

but it didn’t

last

 

removing the ring –

forgotten fairy tales

and rhymes

 

that’s it

Rapunzel cuts

her hair

 

losing meaning

words within –

unopened locket

 

the pin still sharp

wearing

my ex’s enamel broche

 

all fingers and thumbs –

tidying away

these foolish things

 

Cinderella

sorting through the peas –

the story never ends

 

counting

the ‘what ifs’ –

an empty shoe box

 

died last week ...

can’t find his last picture

on my phone

 

reaching capacity

the cloud –

endless rain

 

in the crowd

of mourners

a little white dog

 

following the wheels –

back to the rag n bone

man’s yard

 

moral injury –

he wipes his hands

on his overalls

 

slight return –

loose change

jangling in his pocket

 

cash bar –

she plays with her

AA coin

 

all the things that

could have been –

a sobering thought

 

tears long gone –

his wife clears away

the unused dinner plate

 

empty half of the bed –

alarm clock counting

each second

 

2am

the sheep

keep coming

 

feeling woolly

wrapped up

warm in bed

 

comfort food –

deciphering

mom’s scrawl

 

note on the fridge –

eat anything

but the plums

 

domestic bliss

with a side

of valium

 

life’s ups and

downs going round

in circles

 

nostalgia –

rust on

the old carousel

 

looking at

holiday slides

from long ago

 

darkened

rec room –

my neighbour snores

 

light flickers –

moving this armchair

hundreds of miles

 

rereading

the narrow road –

my creaking bones

 

marking each mile –

we post our

alternate verses

 

that oak over there ...

gnarled old

walking stick

 

acorns instead

of coffee in our

billy can

 

over the campfire

an old chestnut

boasted

marshmallows melting

like ghosts ... 

toes numb

with cold

... but the stories ...

 

telling it to the birds –

somewhere

an owl answers

 

a tuft of fur

on the forest floor –

wolf pup licks her lips

 

leaves shimmering

high overhead –

first light

 

even for dim human noses

the smell of rain

on moist ground

 

a black cat

pads quietly

across the moss

 

urban predators

I hide

in the woods

 

4x4 parked

on the bluff –

realtors admiring the view

eagle eyes –

three humans

puny

 

ants under the sun –

magnified by their

own lens

 

night vision –

rendez-vous

with a wolf spider

 

quick glints –

silver threads

lit by the moon 

wood wide web

the chatter

of rhizomes

 

he reckons

it’s all about the way

Sinatra sings

 

almost asleep –

Tom Waits’ rough whisper

in my ears

 

hot cocoa

does the trick –

same old, same old

 

January

out in the bush –

the night never ends

 

stars overhead –

taking one step forward

two steps back

 

death

of the astrologer –

a movie star mourns

 

no man is an island –

wondering when

he’ll play Prospero

 

"other than that,

Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?" –

black lace

 

comedy of errors –

an actor

breaking both legs

 

hospital diet –

glaring lights

and the smell of Lysol

 

Nurse delights

in giving him a dose

of his own medicine

 

creaky bones

the kitchen witch

smokes a joint

 

Old hemp curtain

slowly disintegrating –

first light

 

sun salutation

Daisy tries

the upside-down

 

a chain of white

flowers wilting

around her neck

 

crepe skin ...

the pleasure

of velvet

 

giving me a kick –

steel toe-capped

stilettos

 

hairdresser...

grandma leafs through

a kink magazine

 

permanent wave –

surf dude shakes out

his beach blonde hair

 

beach hotel after beach hotel –

the sacred

buried

 

forgotten

fisherman’s chapel

in the casino’s shadow

 

windowless –

the smell of dopamine

in the slot machines

 

whenever I look

away – Ferris Wheel

slowly moving

 

Oktoberfest –

pretzels

and a broken heart

 

Oom-pah Band –

having more fun

than the audience.

 

teetotaler –

the beer

flows on

 

moonlighting –

he bottles his own

home brew

 

prayer

over the cauldron –

a crow chimes in

 

refracting light –

a black feather

in her hat

 

honeymoon –

building a nest

out of coathangers

 

entering and exiting

the closet by

different doors

 

pride month

hard

won

 

a rainbow

reshaping

its prism

 

half circle

so much missing

still

 

trying to compass

a dodecahedron –

not my forte

 

Narcissus –

a trendy guru goes on

about quantum physics

 

his favourite student

top marks again –

eye rolls

 

first born –

blood

in the fox's den

 

Finding his feet –

she sends him

on an errand

 

estate sale –

stuck to a chair leg

an old shopping list

 

major and minor

every infraction

itemised

 

bean counter

his collar

too stiff

 

mimicking

his adam’s apple –

double windsor

 

squeezing into

the corset again –

Monday morning

 

clock watching

her first client

already late

 

two hours to lunch –

a sloth watches

paint dry

 

thinking of dinner

last night –

un-ravioli

 

good-bye kiss –

a drop of Chianti

on her lips

 

There’s no doubt

he’s in deep –

that smile, ruby red

 

sparkling city lights –

jewel thief

on her way to work

 

a black cat

slinking across

the roof slates

 

high up

Shiki’s bell

and a persimmon

 

Basho sits

momentarily baffled –

which direction?

 

Buson

pointing the way

with a brush

 

old man Issa

cheerfully chirping

back at the sparrows

 

blank wall –

Blyth insists

It’s all about zen

 

his emptiness –

returning

full circle

 

December ...

the sand raking

filled with snow

 

another flake

falling from

the painted surface

 

castle ruin –

in a crack

a dandelion

 

each year

the sun renewed –

same flower returns

 

unsteady hand

he writes his last

blossom haiku

 

snow blind –

so many petals

caught in the cataract

 

dreaming of Victoria Falls –

page 10 of

Heart of the Jungle

 

the toucans

observing the naturalist’s

odd behaviour

 

headdress costume –

swooning over

the noble savage

 

the bank

closed early –

a stocking still on his head 

coming to

my senses –

night-blooming jasmine

 

scent of a cup of tea

taking me

straight back …

 

not getting lost –

watching the clock

as I’m reading Proust

 

leafing through

a life’s work –

treasuring each word.

 

spelling bee –

another

desk ku

 

‘in parentheses’ –

who can spell it?

kid starts with I

 

nausea –

the smell of

my school’s hallway paint

 

fire escape –

teacher sneaks out

for a cigarette.

 

smoke curling

from the crematorium –

fifth joint today

 

yellowed fingernails –

slowly rolling

his own

 

zoned out

a fly crawls around

in his beard

 

rooting around

in the undergrowth –

a boar

 

past midnight

a coyote’s eyes

reflecting red

 

campfire embers

waning into

stars

 

sun sign cancer

the moon

smiles back at me

 

each crater

cupping the dark –

earthshine

 

big beetle keeps pushing

the sun across the sky ...

tiny toy-humans

 

back to where

it all began –

Sisyphus sighs

 

family quarrels

I reread

Antigone

 

on the battlefield

picked clean –

all of Adam’s ribs

 

more greed

than avoidance ...

I’d have eaten the apple, too

 

Never falling

far from

the tree

 

broken wrist

a pear

in my hand

 

all the futures

we were promised –

fruitless

 

lichen –

how many

more years

 

longing

for the end –

only to start again

 

thinking about gravestones ...

the ouroboros

gags at their own tail

 

shedding her skin –

was she ever there?

 

afterlife ....

potato peels

in the compost

 

decomposing –

I rub out seven of

the words I wrote …

 

eraser dust ...

stomping around

a sand painting

 

the dunes –

slowly moving but

never any closer

 

kalpa by kalpa

the mountain comes

to Mohamed

 

aging

each day

another aeon

 

sub specie aeternitatis –

bragging about

my Latin

 

kids conjugating

into rival gangs –

altogether another story

 

possessive –

my grammar teacher’s

deep frown

 

his condescension –

a keepsake kept

far too long 

again and again

a look at the locket –

plastic rose on the grave

 

three times a day

the Angelus Bell

echoes ...

 

solstice ...

I dance a prayer

into the night

 

stone circle –

clocks another

light year

 

crossroads ...

visiting

my friend the rock

 

fingerpost –

pointing back

where we were

 

wild boar –

therapist rooting around

in my past

 

making a fort(ification)

out of the couch

cushions 

not feelings again –

please something

to hold on to

 

each finger

finding comfort

in clasped hands

 

the strong grasp

of an infant’s hand ...

God has my back 

one touch –

suffices

to tell

 

a spark –

Michelangelo

conceives of Adam

 

all day

upside down –

paint flecks in his beard

 

ochre

and egg yolk –

the first “I love you”

 

from cave arch

to vaulted ceiling –

wet fingers touching

 

squelchy sex –

another spill

on the kitchen floor

 

making devilled

eggs again –

such decadence!

 

summer party –

in the soup kitchen

a one-eyed dog

 

he looks –

longing for

just a scrap

 

late-night cart rattle –

neighborhood binner

plays Bach on his head phones

 

tinkling the ivories –

his teeth

in a glass

 

mouth wide open –

the dentist hums a song

from her home country

 

pretending he can’t

remember the tune –

as time goes by

 

happy chatter –

a magpie proud

of her watch collection

 

winding back

the clocks –

and yet …

 

gears within gears

the politician

eyes a new treadmill

 

Awarding plaudits

to themselves –

Parliamentary Review

 

old white man

in a Beemer

dust on the road

 

no deviation –

sticking to the

centre lane again

 

letter of the law ...

a few hairs left

on the old calligraphy brush

 

idly rubbing

his ink stained

callus

 

another Grindr dud

he takes an eraser

to his sex life

 

empty avatar

in love with

illusion 

one-way ticket

to Paris ...

I flirt with the Mona Lisa

 

her enigmatic smile

leaving me

none the wiser 

told to be friendly

the cashier

bares her teeth

 

he didn’t but –

maybe he should’ve

had fries with that

 

ghosted ...

heartache disappears

in an ice-cream tub

 

the portrait’s eyes

following me

everywhere I go

 

platform 9 ¾ ...

but I can’t read

those books anymore

 

Looking to the future –

all the other stories

yet to unfold

 

mercury or is it venus

version 3.9 of me

walks into a bar

 

tequila slammers -

one for us and

two for the road

 

70th birthday

the ice melts

into the Old Fashioned

 

the sun

full circle –

many happy returns

 

moon in virgo

the astrologer

and their barbie doll

 

retrograde motion –

Malibu Ken

smiling to himself

 

bronzed bodies

and surf boards –

the soft scuttle of a hermit crab

 

perfect

pincer movement –

proving her mettle

 

gold medal

in tug-of-war –

the rubber band snaps

 

mystified by

the twang of

unfamiliar accents 

boomerang

goes whirring by

don’t know what hit me

 

drinking dandelion

and burdock –

back where we began