Back to 2006 Ghazals
Issue Six
- The Chairman, Robert Godwin
- The Festive Board, Robert Godwin
- I am but a messenger, Rick Miller
- She Makes the Rules, Mary Ellen Miller
- I Dream of Spring, Mary Ellen Miller
- Editor's Comments
The Chairman
by Robert Godwin
We gathered there one night to dine with him,
Lifting up our cups of wine with him.
He asked that we indulge a small request:
To hide the fact we would align with him.
In secrecy we pledged our loyalty,
And afterwards, we downed a stein with him.
We'd be his eyes and ears, and tell him all,
But never thought to cross the line with him.
We had the votes (the Board was ours to rule),
And shared this power of The Nine with him.
All our actions led to one result:
We trod the path of quick decline with him.
After all those feasts, could we forget
The day he asked that we resign with him?
All stood before the Board, the charges laid:
We Nine did willingly combine with him.
As CEO, I was the first to share
That deeply bitter cup of brine with him.
The Festive Board
by Robert Godwin
Foods break through the dam upon the festive board
As bags and boxes slam upon the festive board.
The tableclothes are spread: each corner will display
The village monogram upon the festive board.
Some bring their pillows, comforters, for all to use,
Help spread the jars of jam upon the festive board.
Families bring their best—a chicken or a pie—
Or lay a fresh-cooked ham upon the festive board.
Families diligently work throughout the night
To place their rack of lamb upon the festive board.
Across the river live the poorest of the poor,
Yet each will set one clam upon the festive board.
Those whose land is measured in a garden patch
Display their largest yam upon the festive board.
Before the village, strangers from abroad will lay
The foods of Vietnam upon the festive board.
One man will stop behind each place and pour one drink,
And place that single gram upon the festive board.
Infants and young children might, perhaps, receive
A cup of but one dram upon the festive board.
The Stranger comes, unasked, and pins a note which reads
"For this I thank you, ma'am" upon the festive board.
I am but a messenger
by Rick Miller
She sours if I bring bad news. I am but a messenger.
She judges if I sing the blues. I am but a messenger.
She urges me to stand my ground, speak my mind, and not back down,
then bristles if I sling my views. I am but a messenger.
She festers when I realize every nuance from her eyes,
and angers if I sting her cues. I am but a messenger.
She says she needs to see the real: total me without the peel,
then eye-rolls if I sing and cruise. I am but a messenger.
She stares with malice-tinted eyes turned to hear my dark surprise:
she's failed to understand my clues. I am but a messenger.
She Makes the Rules
by Mary Ellen Miller
With strong embrace, she makes the rules.
Camouflaged face, she make the rules.
Torrential rains wash away hills,
She owns the place; she makes the rules.
Earthquakes destroy, panic and pain,
What a disgrace; she makes the rules.
Fertile dark soil grows garden buds,
Cut for the vase, she makes the rules.
Snow comes too soon, hear her loud laugh,
This is her ace, she make the rules.
Next day the sun shows her kind side,
She's made her case, she makes the rules.
Proving her power, humbling me,
Arsenic and lace, she makes the rules.
I Dream of Spring
by Mary Ellen Miller
Debate's complete, I dream of spring.
Seasons compete, I dream of spring.
Hot air streams forth with no disguise.
In summer's heat, I dream of spring.
Autumn colors, pure elegance!
When hues retreat, I dream of spring.
New growth begins beneath the snow.
There's winter wheat, I dream of spring.
The vernal season soon arrives.
Ostara's treat, I dream of spring.
When age begins to dictate health,
Hear me repeat, "I dream of spring."
Editor's Comments
Both of Robert Godwin's ghazals explore dimensions of content that hold promise for further work with the ghazal in English. "The Chairman" gives us a sustained, linear narrative, with a consistent narrative voice. Each sher remains independent syntactically, but the set adds up to a story about corporate corruption. "The Festive Board" depicts a scene in some detail—an appealing scene such as might be depicted by Pieter Brueghel (note "The Peasant Wedding" toward the bottom of the page) or Norman Rockwell.
As I child, I relished Rockwell's Saturday Evening Post covers. Certainly his imagery can be sentimental, but at its best, Rockwell's work catches an aspect of the American dream with great effect.
Rick Miller and Mary Ellen Miller each provide a portrait of the dangerous feminine. Coincidentally, while I'm writing these comments, Dilated Peeple's "Poisonous" plays:
She ain't the one to trustThis refrain is a great example of hip-hop rhyme as well as having some thematic relation to the two ghazals.
she'll treat your heart like Toys 'R us.
"I am but a messenger": Who is she? Who is he that speaks? Their identities lie in your response as a reader. I certainly take the messenger as male; does that mean female readers must be distant from the poem? Perhaps the messenger's gender depends on the reader. In any case, I'd say "she" is a descendent of Keats' "La Belle Dame Sans Merci."
"She Makes the Rules": if you've never read Robert Graves' book, The White Goddess, I recommend it in connection with both of these "dangerous female" poems. Graves' scholarship may be questioned by professionals, and his view of poetry is limited, but the book will give you a lot of poetic substance. Mary Ellen Miller's ghazal may be seen as a riddle with clues that present vivid imagery and phrasing.
I'm writing these comments on the summer solstice, with temperatures in the 90s predicted for my locale. I believe I'll join Mary Ellen Miller in dreaming of spring. Those "rare days" of June—and we've had some—are well on their way to being the sweltering days of summer. Enjoy the dream!