Fifth Set of Ghazals for 2003

Sun Aug 3 11:51:48 CDT 2003

Coming back to these notes after nearly a week, leaving traces of the dates here so you can see, if you care to look, my hesitations and distractions.

In the span of the last six days, I have added a fourth ghazal that Erin sent me. This ghazal differs from the others of his I've read in taking up political and social themes. The three preceding ghazals are more typical of Erin's work, Romantic in tone, and Romantic--even archaic--in diction. It seems to me that the world of these ghazals is a sonic world, a world shaped more of sound and resonance than of shape and image. Like Romantic landscapes, these ghazals drift into distant hazes, distances that call to the eye and the heart and the ear.

"Sieges" is different. Coarser, bitter, impatient. The hope, faith, and persistent love of the other three ghazals has become the traditional trust that art will outlive the artist.

If I understand correctly, these are the last ghazals by Erin that will appear here. He has moved on to exploring other forms of poetry. But perhaps Erin will return later with more ghazals.

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Mon Jul 28 16:08:51 CDT 2003

I've had these three ghazals in the pipeline for far too long. Erin has been very patient, but waiting for them to appear has to have been frustrating. Fortunately, the new way I'm doing The Ghazal Page looks to make it easier for me to do things in a timely way.

These three ghazals exemplify Erin's strengths with the ghazal. He carries the form through effectively, observing each of the traditional specifications.

Of course, form in itself is not enough to make a group of words--a group of sentences--a poem. A vector, a thrust, a beat, an emotional/intellectual curve are needed. A parabola, perhaps, an asymptote never achieving the limit toward which it surges. A sailing up and a falling back down. The ghazal's form has a curve like that, from the opening couplet establishing qafiya and radif to the closing couplet signed with the poet's intention.

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Cloudburst (ghazal #6)

Erin Thomas
Behold grim advance of yon broiling clouds!
Brace well for impact from the coiling clouds.

As rumbling in progress blots out the sky,
Fear gathers beneath those boiling clouds.

Beware formidable angst gripping cold,
Foreboding dread moves in moiling clouds.

Faint not at the restless darkness that crowds,
Shun terrors incited by roiling clouds.

Life prevails despite dark horrors nigh;
Light shines and heals beyond foiling clouds.

To compassion and understanding keep hold;
Hearts full of faith withstand soiling clouds.

If all falls beneath tenebrous enshrouds,
Seize hope, Zahhar, despite toiling clouds.

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Moonset (ghazal #17)

Erin Thomas
Upon a streaming cloudscape floats directive moon;
Like a feather falling drifts perfective moon.

Soundless autumn winds soft rustle unseen leaves—
Silhouettes of trees beneath projective moon.

Shifting slow and silent in the depths of night
Clouds phase hemmed in radiance of reflective moon.

Faintly flicker delicate beams through broken shroud;
Gently in descent retreats respective moon.

Soundless on horizon's deep, a dragon flies,
Final hues reflecting from prospective moon.

Still, serene, amazed, Zahhar stood watching,
Wondrous shimmering moods of the affective moon.

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Evanescence (ghazal #70)

Erin Thomas
In that place where I pay homage to the night
I pled your case to the stars that strew the night.

From this mountaintop I prayed for you to heal,
And in tandem fell two bold stars through the night.

I, too, had walked on that shadow's edge before
And knew you as another who knew the night.

Your journey along the shadow's edge was long,
Then your strength gave out and on you drew the night.

Maybe your soul was healed instead of your form
That we are left in your wake to rue the night.

Now in silence on the mountaintop I sit,
Gazing on blurred stars where long I view the night.

Stars reflect in the flowing wells of my soul;
I sought a friend, but was left in lieu the night.

Was it your essence in the wind that whispered,
"I'm not lost, Zahhar," as languid grew the night?

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Sieges (ghazal #117)

Erin Thomas
Weathered faces scan the sky and wait for terrorist's attacks;
All their prayers could not stay opposing interests' attacks.

Hearty loggers seethe with dread beneath a rain of falling spires;
Deep vexations ache their chests to think of naturists' attacks.

Sprawling deserts, drying lakes and fertile soils turned to salt
Bear the brunt of needy hands and clumsy theorists' attacks.

Laughing at sardonic jokes an audience is brought to tears,
Thus inverted sorrows share the punch of humorists' attacks.

Thrumming fingers tap the desk unheeding of professor talk,
Eyes are glazed with sultry thoughts that long for amorists' attacks.

Human folly scales the ranks from thief to king, from clown to saint;
Ample fodder feeds the guns of jarring satirists' attacks.

Ghazals live a thousand years if they are tuned to lyric gait;
Take the fretful risk, Zahhar, of feeling plagiarists' attacks.

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