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don't let the nights hold back what they despise
& embroil yourself in what randomness misconceives
absorb yourself in the stillness of the days
for the static of the universe perpetually flees
& be not a child permeable to simplicity
acting the part of a rigour that deceives
as if virtues have become rare in the microcosm
& you are loath that they are all one sees
reveal yourself as mean against those virtues
& expose them although misery reprieves
all joy is then rescinded & all sadness
with all felicity beneath you & all unease
expose your accomplices to perpetual pompousness
since the snivelling of complicity never bereaves
but do despair the bigotry of the prodigal
since the frost exudes hunger as dry wine & cheese
your bankruptcy is compounded by industry
& misfortune confounded by what indolence achieves
if your lungs exhale doubt & indifference
then you are unlike the vessels on the seas
for whoever has pleasure erupt from their ceilings
have their gables befall them as well as their eaves
the skies of the lowly are narrow & quite
indifferent to life & to the spread of disease
certainly, the nearness of being so gleefully wrong
yields a transient lifetime’s swapping of platitudes
how they race to the nearest soul, healthfully headed,
rolling their wrongs in big pitchforks of attitude
as biting & bitter as their silence which enters you
is what you’ll feel while you’re falling, transfixed by your
lassitude
won’t anyone scoff at all the justified truthfulness
that your lungs’ll pour out in thin protests of gratitude
you see lion’s flesh grazed upon & duly
delivered
to asses kept drunken & fat for debauchery
but a wilderness of antipathy is under our doorstep
like yesterday’s news, with no prospects before us
you, meanest of rebels, aspire to impotence
like a laurel-wreathed hermit desiring augury
but to crawl under the veranda like some well-oiled surfer
is to deny giving justice to those who adore us
sure, a shuffle of cards with an empty foreboding
adds strength to the tradition of hustled effrontery
but more painful & tart than your silence & promises
is the scream of cognition that says you’ll implore us
knowing the moment’s both just & imperious
i’ll tap out my pen to your scuffle for flattery
but will no one accept the implications of truth
that your image delivers through myths that assure us
o victim of plague, without practice or
potions,
have you the passion to ward off infection
that seer will ignore you with his slightest of smiles
& he’d love it if you would return his discretion
so decrepit, you easily thrive on his healing
that one day he’ll employ to bring death to perfection
yet his wisdom shall wither along with his cruelty
as when water is frozen, it deadens perception
so saved are the stricken, the carriers – that pill broker
who exploits your disease like a spinster’s affection
in a heartbeat, two evenings of self-doubt and recklessness
painted deathlike two love-lives of sleeping & fecklessness
we could hear the ocean waves crash down on our bodies
spraying the coastline with oyster-pearl necklaces
how these sands wink the stars from our eyefuls of vanity
but the sun & the moon are eclipsed by our loneliness
why labour the moment, your point of obsession,
indulge the public a little free indiscretion
get up to your knees in what monotony’s advocates
promulgate as distasteful – voicing every objection
if you thumb through their pamphlets, you’ll find them denying
every promise they made you, not your words of confession
so tease your enthusiasts for a heavenly profit
& deny your detractors your baseline depression
The Arabic "ode" — qasîda — is intimately connected with the origins of the ghazal. For context on these six qasîdas, look at David Jalajel's article, "English Ghazals Based on Arabic Forms," and Dictionary.com's information on the form. David's article presents examples as well as explanation. His "Qasîda #1" appears there as well. The Dictionary.com entry is brief and cites the Encyclopedia Britannica.
In these qasîdas, David follows the convention of dividing the long Arabic line into two lines in English for the sake of readability. His use of the qafîyah shifts from full rhyme to micro-rhyme, provding effetive variation for what could be a monotonous form. He uses other devices, such as alternating qafîyah in #3. Personally, I savor the rhyme of "necklaces" with "recklessness" in #5.
These six poems shift adroitly between abstract and concrete diction. As a way of perceiving themes, note the pronouns in the poems: first person plural and second person, which can be either singular or plural in English. In my estimation, the themes shift and vary as do the rhymes and the diction. See what you think.