First published in Woodnotes #24, Spring 1995, pages 32–33. This sort of linked verse, together with the “double tanka string,” is essentially a variation of rengay that uses tanka instead of haiku while promoting thematic development, which is central to rengay. It seemed not to catch on, or at least not by this name, but it was a reach for innovation that was common in the 1990s with Haiku Poets of Northern California members.
by Kenneth Tanemura
The triple tanka string is a variation on the double tanka string, invented by Sanford Goldstein and myself. The first double tanka string was published in Frogpond Vol. XVII, No. 1, Spring 1994. The triple tanka string is similar to renku in that it is a form of linked verse, yet different because it uses tanka and breaks many of the rules of renku by employing techniques of narrative, often serving as a dialogue between two or more poets on a chosen theme. Renku is more encompassing than a tanka string, and attempts to express an array of subjects, images, and experiences. The triple tanka string is thus more limited in scope, but is more autobiographical, and the focus given to a single theme, mood, or subject is primarily what distinguishes it from renku, though it is, in a rudimentary way, derived from renku. Sticking to a particular theme is not necessary, but maintaining a thematic unity is important. In a triple tanka string, each verse responds to the preceding poet’s experience, sharing a new one. Each poet’s perspective is meshed into a unifying vision. “Intimations” [shown below] was written at Pat Shelley’s home in Saratoga, California on December 28, 1994, and is the first triple tanka string to be published in North America.
by Pat Shelley, David Rice, and Kenneth Tanemura
what I tell you
may not be true
I create my life as I go
on intimations
of my mortality Pat
red sky at dawn
I watch the clouds change shape
why do I think
I have to be myself
when the sky can’t contain me David
the library
filling with books
out of print—
outside, leaves scattered
on the garden floor Kenneth
how often I say
my house, my garden, my dog,
my sons, my life,
do I really believe
they all belong to me? Pat
together
we make a kind of love
that will remain
long after I forget
what we ate for lunch David
while thinking
of a poem
this December afternoon
time seemed to stop
but my tea turned cold Kenneth