Friday, November 23, 2007
ghazal -- winning & losing (work in progress)
(i)
How can I keep track any more of winning & losing?
when the ocean's lacking a shore where's winning & losing?
I will scrawl a placard imploring people to tell me
how to love the knack I abhor of winning & losing?
I've prepared a sack where I store the things I believe in
but I fear your tack may have torn my winning & losing
I will pile a stack to the sky of praise & lamenting
just to glimpse your back can unmoor my winning & losing
is the world a tenebrous tapestry that enchants us?
it unfurls the decorative lore of winning & losing
as we tour the sandy mirage we're fancifully dreaming
it keeps conjuring castles' allure through winning & losing
every child's astute in the game's primordial grammar
the prime minister like the whore speaks winning & losing
babes are schooled in how to behave at Maya's lyceum
toddlers learn to march in the corps of winning & losing
every drum will tell you a tale of beatings & thrashings
where's the flute not apt to out-pour its winning & losing?
every cloud if peaceful today is weeping tomorrow
every tree has sap at its core of winning & losing
(ii)
every morn the market's a'buzz with heartbreak & commerce
every evening packs in yet more the winning & losing
every form contains the directions for its undoing
in a hidden strand where they store our winning & losing
gentle rose! when dreaming of springtime had you forgotten
jealous autumn factors in thorns of winning & losing?
in the thorn the rose shows her pique belovèds are lethal
on this nipple breasts have been torn for winning & losing
if it's true love's spring is a gift please lavish your theory
in the lying practice of war who's winning or losing?
you'll allow love's premised on giving? grant me an answer
what's a quest worth arguing for? mere winning & losing?
huw suspicious! poets obliquely claim they're creative
not so slyly tapping the store of winning & losing
what sustains the penchant to prate about one's uniqueness?
tap one vein we splat the same gore of winning & losing
every song drives some nuanced angle on her dark beauty
she's got droves of facets & more for winning & losing
playful breeze! how far can you reach? deliver my missive
soon we'll each get back to the chore of winning & losing
(iii)
I went out to purchase this cloth of silk she was absent
I'm returning back from her store both winning & losing
by her lake she traffics in trinkets fine & exotic
you can buy the wrap not the core of winning & losing
lambent lips though sporting a smile dark is her iris
polite pupils blandly ignore the winning & losing
kindly lips! your smile invites but dark is the darshan
beauty's petals practice the lure of winning & losing
while the lips speak peace there's a war the eyes are engaged in
lips & eyes disarm me! I'm poor I'm winning & losing
the abstemious tutor their senses studying your ocean
nescient wastrels bask on a shore of winning & losing
when the poets heeded their ears absorbing the birdcry
her lamenting tacitly tore up winning & losing
both the koel & bulbul express antiquity's flavor
both the date & tamarind store sweet winnings & losings
settling back in India after traversing China
where's the point one's travelling for? more winning & losing?
the moon-slender sweetheart afar you might send an apple
by what train's click-clack could she core your winning & losing?
(iv)
one could tip one's cap at the door with courtly decorum
while the window wafts in the score of winning & losing
when the brawn of gold-mining spans the mountain of winter
vernal caravans smelt the ore of winning & losing
while returning home from the war Odysseus tarried
ten long years he swam for a shore past winning & losing
callow souls contend for a goal-post ritually touted
some who've roamed a lakh & a crore still winning & losing
one need not redact all the lore antiquity witnessed
for the realm of fact has what core save winning & losing?
artful friends enacted your glorious tale I smiled
as my tears reflected I swore nor winning nor losing
when the light's refracted from glare flow multiple colors
bright artistes exactly adore the winning & losing
does the pool look placid? decor is green & deceptive
hidden mud amassing the spores of winning & losing
should you drop the map in the drawer resigning to slumber
could the mirror nap? might it snore through winning & losing?
where the palms all clap reconnoiter textures of clamor
prithee mind the gap! to explore what's winning & losing
(v)
to dissolve the packet just pour its contents in water
instant coffee's packed at the store of winning & losing
do the tennis rackets confirm philosophy's quandary?
lend the ball a whack! it conforms by winning or losing
there's a cup of chai that I favor when in Baroda
fresh with adarak deft the pour no winning no losing
in Beijing it's pu'er we drink a costlier custom
eighty years it's aged for the noir of winning & losing
with the train on track comfy sleepers drowsed through their dreaming
junctions back-on-back made me sore with winning & losing!
there was not one window nor door intact in the building
every portal cracked in a war of winning & losing
when the mouse of theory squeaked "I'm the king of the forest!"
all its sentence lacked was the roar of winning & losing
the initial scene lends the story sharp definition
by the final act every moron's winning or losing
in the marketplace of existence freedom's enshrouded
while each price-tag tattles "we're born for winning or losing"
"you could add more nettles!" quipped Milarepa serenely
he'd in end subtracted a storm of winning & losing
(vi)
should we try to placate the ghoul who mortaly plagues us?
could one scratch its back and ignore the winning & losing?
love's verandah might not look hard when first you apprise it
one soft wall could easily floor your winnings & losings
late in life I'm practicing raag distilling its potion
till I drown in alap & jor my winnings & losings
from the hotel's balcony honking cars proclaim "India!
has she drawn you back? come adore her winnings & losings"
all are born stark naked attire's our cultural wrapping
with the tie & jacket we wore our winnings & losings
you but glimpsed the dream of her blush anon you departed?
parting's thorn awakens the sore of winning & losing
the Tibetan beauty desires to practice her English!
virtual addresses consort with winning & losing
in the dark the minaret's call awakens Baroda
in a trice bird-clamour's imploring winning & losing
you're intoning kharaj the bass note pitched at the bottom
like a stealth attack in a war of winning & losing
every string we strum frames a sentence we am receiving
long confinement thwacks at the chord of winning & losing
(vii)
every line I cast seeks a fish from aqueous darkness
this lagoon in fact is a door of winning & losing!
does each verse I croon limn my dreaming of the belovèd
lost in slumber's rapture untorn by winning & losing?
every horn that honks in the city blares an agenda
every wing that flaps by the shore is winning & losing
every word we're floating in silence whispers our longing
every leaf that crackles reports our winning & losing
every sound from creature or object renders a message
every teacup harbors a storm of winning & losing
every jot philosophers pen is probing for treasure
aren't miner's mad for the ore of winning & losing?
every whiff of bread draws a map describing our hunger
every pinch of chat charts a score of winning & losing
every course refits a design perforce we discover
every horse was saddled before the winning & losing
in the hearse is cradled the man born crying tomorrow
in the playpen waddles his form of winning & losing
down the street there lumbers a bullock nibbling at grasses
in the lake there settles a corpse still winning & losing
(viii)
lost in dusk I puff my cheroot whose ash falls haphazard
deep in earth there wriggles the worm of winning & losing
in the skillet sizzles a meal the hungry require
in the bucket echoes the norm of winning & losing
in the circus of the surreal the barker extolls you
though the mirror badly distorts the winning & losing
in this sojourn fictional stops assemble & vanish
there's no train nor track! still a horn sounds winning & losing
for the healing herb you (in time's nick) toted the mountain!
love reveals such capable charm in winning & losing
fruits be drowned in you! does your peal of laughter restore them?
can the ocean's cackling shore up winning & losing?
when we've lost our way will your feet remember our forehead?
from my solo shack hear the choir of winning & losing
it appeared so gentle! a hobby blithe & amusing
then the poem hacked through the door of winning & losing!
the distinctions jurists insist on love must relinquish
richly journey back to be poor in winnings & losings
in your name they're lost your nazaar they find as their winning
kindly wait a sec! I'm a'blur with winnings & losings
(ix)
every morn we're turning a page that opens a window
every night we're back at the door of winning & losing
having fetched an instrument why not linger & play it
like a serious hack? we adores such winnings & losings
don't be silent! we must hear everything from the beginning
won't love woo one back with its lore of winnings & losings?
it may take a week just to read the name on the wrapping!
did your genius package a tour of winnings & losings?
when the craftsman saws through the board the wood hardly cavils
it observes what practice is for through winning & losing
lovers freely dream of the day their loves will entwine them
blind as night they're shackled forlorn for winning & losing
in her tickertape reeling out for measureless aeons
Mahamaya acts through informing winning & losing
in her grand charade she depicts veach creature completely
every hair's intact every curl of winning & losing
colors all emerge from your waves O ocean of mercy!
and from you all fragrances pour no winning no losing
those who seek your aid receive grace O infinite mother!
every road winds back to your door past winning & losing
(x)
every morn the city awakens ready for showtime
every twirl in kathak disarms our winning & losing
choreography of the cars can't fail to astonish
a ballet so madly performed sans winning or losing
where the juggler catches each ball without apprehension
we perceive a savvy one scorning winning & losing
all are skilled! all love you sincerely all are deluded
thus we heed the tap of karun in winning & losing
where the days have limit & nights are numbered we move in
parting's play whose practice affords no winning sans losing
who adore the rose must embrace her tragic condition
every Jill loves Jack through the thorn where winning means losing
in a sea of infinite time what boat eludes drowning?
every nano-act drills a bore from winning to losing
does the dripping faucet drop hints of clandestine homelands?
may the ocean smash through the door of winning & losing!
is the ocean somewhere we're not? or is it our story?
do its waves weave strands of rapport with winning & losing?
life enlists us into her sport we dance at her bidding
no one makes some rabid uproar though winning or losing
(xi)
in the heart of night still the cricket utters its poem
is its crying vapid decor of winning & losing?
should one fetch him mountains of lucre would he feel triumph?
where his verse some flat ear abhors who's winning or losing?
grieving cricket! if you're the dream then who is the dreamer?
though a bug you're manly what glorious winning & losing!
in the ring where bulls are encountered caution's essential
every spring a may may get gored for winning & losing
in the news don't figures we read amount to diversions?
can their sharpness cancel the blur of winning & losing?
when I glimpsed again Raphael at ease with his poem
I grew troubled "is there still more to winning & losing?
answer this don't flowers want terseness? stem the profusion!
in your spree of asking you've worn out winning & losing!"
Raphael! suppose one attends these turgid effusions?
is their gist you cannot endure the winning & losing?
amid rain you pine for the sun in sun you want water!
it grows plain you're whacked to the core by winning & losing
where the word has gone to the heart revert to the silence
it's insane to chant evermore of winning & losing
(xii)
when the Buddha offered his view of pain & its ending
was the formless wrapped in the form of winning & losing?
when Lord Krishna sounded his flute in pastoral moonlight
did you dream a castle whose charm slew winning & losing?
after Christ came down from the cross & drowsed in a cavern
he awoke & passed through the door of winning & losing
in the dust at roadside one reads anonymous traces
in the books they ratch up the score of winning & losing
here's a comely garden they clip & water all seasons
butterfly! you're flitting before such winnings & losings
"spider's web" the signage for internet in these boondocks
I'm the fly you catch in the flower of winning & losing
village maidens hasten I know not where in a dreamscape
perfect foothils flap as you snore through winning & losing
to control the senses the wise encourage detachment
one becalms through practice the storm of winning & losing
when life thwarts the urge to create what faces extinction?
one traverses chastity's door both winning & losing?
aren't needling needs lost in space when pining to find you?
does the earth retract if we soar past winning & losing?
(xiii)
every day one open a window on separation
every night we fasten the door on winning & losing
certain hours we gaze in the mirror placid & clueless
and betimes we're back in the storm of winning & losing
when the shoe has reached the road's end a roadway continues
at its drop the hat is reborn for winning & losing
vernal thoughts accost you amid the gardens of autumn
who can claim to lack a rapport with winning & losing?
when you prize a distant belovèd sorrow grows friendly
batting eyes "come back to my floor of winning & losing"
please elucidate why do dreams appears but to vanish?
oceanspray will splach on the shore of winning & losing
for a time in youth with guitar you'd dabble while singing
did no song you happened to strum touch winning & losing?
you were young anon you grew older season by season
you were innocent of the war of winning & losing
in those days you marched in dissent for carnage in Asia
on these nights you brawl for the score of winning & losing!
in this sorry world happy hands still hasten to help you
don't neglect inshallah ignore the winning & losing
(xiv)
things are always shifting around no plan is quite settled
yet no change has shaken the core of winning & losing
every map you draw gets redrawn each maundering morrow
by fresh froth that's slapping the shore of winning & losing
there's some paradox at the crux of every conception!
none's the thought not tapping the door of winning & losing
aren't histories in the books mere hints of an echo?
social fabrics swathe the decor of winning & losing
what we do & think what we read & write trace out gestures
of the mute shade cast in rapport with winning & losing
when inspired we soar to the rooftop lost in elation
then we drop to flap on a floor of winning & losing
what we are amounts to a rumor glimpsed in a mirror
what we're not adds grace to the score of winning & losing
having tendered summertime berries or autumn teardrops
may the heart awaken laved pure of winning & losing
on a bridge of infinite longing inches mean miles
every second's packed with an hour of winning & losing
when you quiz your soul "what's the point of being or doing?"
its reply paints black the white floor of winning & losing
(xv)
every task perchance is a pretext who can but fathom
from what timeless flask you out-pour the winnings & losings?
like a shell-game deft move your hands concealing the secret!
you reveal we're daft to adore such winnings & losings
must the thread of spiritual search wax melodramatic?
grows the pearl organically shorn of winning & losing?
for long years I dithered with poetry to scant purpose
I've become impractical! worn-out winning & losing
in a land of giants the normal man is a midget
when the gods go gambling it dwarfs our winning & losing
with the squash & pumpkin the natives welcome the pilgrims
by your will they gather the corn of winning & losing
on this swing we float through the morn & sweep into evening
everything I hanker to learn through winning & losing
when you pass the tomb of Hafez invoke heaven's mercy
that love's pilgrimage be reborn sans winning or losing
"I have lost again!" cries Jelaluddin at the chessboard
but this time in fact he is shorn of winning & losing
in the Mahabharat where Arjun tarries in trouble
there's a view you grant of a form past winning & losing
(xvi)
the mirage resembles a pool the pool seems a mirror
but the looking-glass proves a door of winning & losing
now the door equivocates closed will open our longing
you can purchase that at the store of winning & losing
when the willow peered in the pool she wept for such beauty
like Narcissus trapped by the lure of winning & losing
every heartbeat carries two notions now & tomorrow
we're sustained by what will endure all winning & losing
all the words are dead in the book until you revive them
they exist as chalk on the floor of winning & losing
by your gaze you grant my words life they live in your breathing
all the birds fly back at the hour of winning & losing
when they cried "a trisket! a trasket!" nobody listened
green & yellow laugh in the form of winning & losing
every fairytale holds terrors wedded with wonders
don't you wonder what will be born from winning & losing?
my belovèd's hair is as long as night's longest tale
head to tail it spans like the lore of winning & losing
Raphael! I plainly beseech you love without question
like his wife Jack Spratt won the war of winning & losing
(xvii)
when the hand you seek is afar the feet seem pathetic
can't they find a path to her door through winning or losing?
when the heart enjoys her rapport are feet apathetic?
they create the path on a floor of winning & losing
neither hands nor feet know the score & hearts can be broken
we are tanned & blackened & worn out winning & losing
life is fiction fiction achieves the feeling of living
there's no juice in fact till it's torn by winning & losing
do you look to poetry hoping to find safe harbor?
refugees drift back with the lore of winning & losing
at last night's recital guitar-sitar jugalbandi
from the gypsies' track the conour of winning & losing
it's the candid cry of the bulbul that the heart hearkens
shady lies but quack on the shore of winning & losing
the exquisite note isn't one that sounds at full volume
as its play's enacted it soars while winning & losing
the santoor with a hundred strings tells the softest tale
the ektar's deep twang feels the score of winning & losing
in each shape of beauty she pours some glimpse of her secret
with each swar Saraswati performs her winnings & losings
(xviii)
seeking truth gets billed as a craze & not incorrectly
it's a frame to shatter all norms of winning & losing
the Madhyamika views both self & world as but empty
emptiness as the basic core of winning & losing
empty mind empty the physique empty the emotions
there's an emptiness reservoir in winning & losing
in the lamp of union they found no wick & no candle
whiffs of smoke recalled the lost score of winning & losing
the full voice arises & falls regardless of meaning
empty meanings stand on a shore of winning & losing
with the needle of your perception pierce this dark language
darkling night black cat thought obscure that winning & losing
though one beat this theme to a pulp its death isn't witnessed
we've the doom of Kafka exploring winning & losing
where the comic fringes the tragic merits fine study
the comedo-tragic is shown by winning & losing
winning-LOSing! winning-losING winning-losing-WINning!
in the Arctic & Ecuador they're winning & losing!
Raphael! stop egging me on! you scramble my brain! why
must time's whip have cracking in store both winning & losing?
(xix)
what the stones desire the flowers describe more completely
language blooms from fragments & bones of winning & losing
what the stars are seeking the earth explains in translation
you can read spectacular tomes of winning & losing
what the night reported the day forgot until evening
what the dawn suspected we learn from winning & losing
I've arrived in Dilli my heart perhaps resides elsewhere
what is dil? a taxi for touring winning & losing
in a dargah where the belovèd's fused with the framework
of the world I prattle no more of winning & losing
to forget the world means remembering that which creates it
puppets feel the hand while they sport feigned winning & losing
those who reach your feet are so few! who seek you are legion
let these join the stats we ignore like winning & losing
in the heart the Lord has his home the head is for whimsy
many motleys sat at the door of winning & losing
those who know don't speak those who speak are lacking in knowing
Lao Tzu's puzzle raps at the door of winning & losing
all our lines were rattles we wore the tide fetches silence
Meher Baba shatters the floor of winning & losing
(xx)
on the verge of nothing there shimmer feeling & thinking
in the twilight margin transforming winning & losing
all the colors bloom in the mind when music recalls them
from the deep there dance all the forms of winning & losing
what's a song? it hovers in space a delicate flower
it enjoys the transient storm of winning & losing
you've arrived perhaps at a land you're able to live in
passing trains enchant as you forget winning & losing
I desired to freshly recast the cards of my fortune
can the shuffling hand reconform the winning & losing?
common certitudes are in flux as evening settles
having left my land and its terms of winning & losing
in this emptiness all that hovers is recollection
plus some abstract plan with its dormant winning & losing
vagrom narrative! does the chessboard shift while we're dreaming?
every stage redacts the report of winning & losing
rikshaw-wallah! why do the numbers twirl with such fervor?
a rigged meter madly covorts! like winning & losing
Raphael! you've changed your address who'll forward love's letter?
bring me postage stamps from the store of winning & losing
(xxi)
when we find a corner obscure enough we sit pretty
artforms grow ecstatic unlearning winning & losing
all the glints that glimmer in books are trying to teach us
from this mirror-palace we garner winning & losing
in the bifurcation the binary is oppressive
gain & loss can act to deform like winning & losing
all is increase! all is kindness! everything deepens
every loss has gain yet in store strange winning & losing!
at the start of time the belovèd whispered a secret
"I'm the ending that you look for in winning & losing"
every saint & master scoops out a cup from your ocean
there's a stellar cast on the shore of winning & losing
we're encouraged & we're discoruaged at the same instant!
in the habitat of the door of winning & losing
we exist and do not exist! this equivocation
ties a knot one cannot ignore in winning & losing
(xxii)
[8 verses needed]
in the train to Haridwar station happiness joins me
all the world's a stage (as it were) of winning & losing
nice hotel though lacking hot water (brisk in the morning)
take a bracing bath then we'll tour the winnings & losings
(xxiii)
nimbu pani mixed with masala salt effervescent
afternoon the passing amour of winning & losing
friends are distant still my notebook heeds my affection
love conduces happiness more than winning & losing
love resolves the tangled dilemma literature poses
poems scatter flakes (nothing more) of winning & losing
you'll return to cities you left what gift will you proffer?
in your pockets rattle some poor gyps winning & losing
in my solitude I've composed a weighty amusement
tell this ear that hearkens for your lips "winning & losing"
when you speak his name Raphael already grows happy
does he need a basket of more quips? winning & losing
I'll confess impossible dreams improbable projects
though I guess you'd rather have cornchips winning & losing
he's become a babbling figment on the street corner!
Raphael can't capture the core of winning & losing
now a laughingstock in salons of Paris & Delhi
chanting out in rapturous worship "winning & losing!"
someone put him out of his misery! bring him solace
Raphael laid flat as a doorstop winning & losing
(xxiv) CODA
Haridwar has weddings each day this month festive music
with ensembled brass out-of-doors sweet winnings & losings
down the road you stroll clutching typescript seeking an ending
there's no end! you're lost on a moor of winning & losing
every thought produces a new thought! long is the story
mind itself enacts & performs the winning & losing
there's a junction studded with cyber-cafes shall we go there?
to revise at Ranipur More the winnings & losings?
Raphael! all oceans are ink all trees might be pens but
I'm ashamed to paper earth's floor with winnings & losings
like the guttering candle whose curl of smoke spells extinction
what late flourish cancels the story winning & losing?
there's no close so long as the breath continues to bellow!
like a billowing flag's open form of winning & losing
can an English ghazaleer pierce your ocean's iota?
can't you show Raphael the door from winning & losing?
at the end of ink I've an inkling journeys continue
paper boats a'splash on the shore of winning & losing
you desired to paint all the world in little cartoons but
Raphael! no tint limns the noor of winning & losing
(xxv) FINALE
honking cars eternal these days have poets ignored you?
every honk distracts or retorts like winning & losing
I'll head north the start of the Ganges if I complete this!
Siva's hangout capping remorse for winning & losing
Rudra means to howl Allen Ginsberg could have discovered
yet there's joy each stage of his course what's winning or losing?
all the poetries of the world perhaps are a sandbox
children play in dancing a turn while winning & losing
if I dash out thousands of verses who does this humor?
grows this persiflage a grand bore like winning & losing
even gibberish can be art as monkeys have proven
every fool has sat at the door of winning & losing
whether fool or monkey I float this craft toward your lakeside
if it brings a laugh I'm less poor for winning & losing
let me tell you this Raphael I like your whole poem
I just wish it hadn't got torn by winning & losing
Raphael! here ends the production! quit the rehearsal
with a smile be happy once more stop winning & losing
if you shoot him Raphael's blood continues to babble
all the more untrammeled still mourning winning & losing
======
possibly close to completed -- still in progress.
ghazal (winning & losing)
Begun in Delhi 26 October 2007, completed in Haridwar 23 November
(with some intermediate portions written in Baroda)
=============
latest correction done at 7:55 pm in Haridwar
ghazal ("winning & losing")
(i)
How can I keep track any more of winning & losing?
when the ocean's lacking a shore where's winning & losing?
I will scrawl a placard imploring people to tell me
how to love the knack I abhor of winning & losing?
I've prepared a sack where I store the things I believe in
but I fear your tack may have torn my winning & losing
I will pile a stack to the sky of praise & lamenting
just to glimpse your back can unmoor my winning & losing
is the world a tenebrous tapestry that enchants us?
it unfurls the decorative lore of winning & losing
as we tour the sandy mirage we're fancifully dreaming
it keeps conjuring castles' allure through winning & losing
every child's astute in the game's primordial grammar
the prime minister like the whore speaks winning & losing
babes are schooled in how to behave at Maya's lyceum
toddlers learn to march in the corps of winning & losing
every drum will tell you a tale of beatings & thrashings
where's the flute not apt to out-pour its winning & losing?
every cloud if peaceful today is weeping tomorrow
every tree has sap at its core of winning & losing
(ii)
every morn the market's a'buzz with heartbreak & commerce
every evening packs in yet more the winning & losing
every form contains the directions for its undoing
in a hidden strand where they store our winning & losing
gentle rose! when dreaming of springtime had you forgotten
jealous autumn factors in thorns of winning & losing?
in the thorn the rose shows her pique belovèds are lethal
on this nipple breasts have been torn for winning & losing
if it's true love's spring is a gift please lavish your theory
in the lying practice of war who's winning or losing?
you'll allow love's premised on giving? grant me an answer
what's a quest worth arguing for? mere winning & losing?
huw suspicious! poets obliquely claim they're creative
not so slyly tapping the store of winning & losing
what sustains the penchant to prate about one's uniqueness?
tap one vein we splat the same gore of winning & losing
every song drives some nuanced angle on her dark beauty
she's got droves of facets & more for winning & losing
sportive breeze! how far can you reach? deliver my missive
soon we'll each get back to the chore of winning & losing
(iii)
I went out to purchase this cloth of silk she was absent
I'm returning back from her store both winning & losing
by her lake she traffics in trinkets fine & exotic
you can buy the wrap not the core of winning & losing
lambent lips though sporting a smile dark is her iris
polite pupils blandly ignore the winning & losing
kindly lips! your smile invites but dark is the darshan
beauty's petals practice the lure of winning & losing
while the lips speak peace there's a war the eyes are engaged in
lips & eyes disarm me! I'm poor I'm winning & losing
the abstemious tutor their senses studying your ocean
nescient wastrels bask on a shore of winning & losing
when the poets heeded their ears absorbing the birdcry
her lamenting tacitly tore up winning & losing
both the koel & bulbul express antiquity's flavor
both the date & tamarind store sweet winnings & losings
settling back in India after traversing China
where's the point one's travelling for? more winning & losing?
the moon-slender sweetheart afar you might send an apple
by what train's click-clack could she core your winning & losing?
(iv)
one could tip one's cap at the door with courtly decorum
while the window wafts in the score of winning & losing
when the brawn of gold-mining spans the mountain of winter
vernal caravans smelt the ore of winning & losing
while returning home from the war Odysseus tarried
ten long years he swam for a shore past winning & losing
callow souls contend for a goal-post ritually touted
some who've roamed a lakh & a crore still winning & losing
one need not redact all the lore antiquity witnessed
for the realm of fact has what core save winning & losing?
artful friends enacted your glorious tale I smiled
as my tears reflected I swore nor winning nor losing
when the light's refracted from glare flow multiple colors
bright artistes exactly adore the winning & losing
does the pool look placid? decor is green & deceptive
hidden mud amassing the spores of winning & losing
should you drop the map in the drawer resigning to slumber
could the mirror nap? might it snore through winning & losing?
where the palms all clap reconnoiter textures of clamor
prithee mind the gap! to explore what's winning & losing
(v)
to dissolve the packet just pour its contents in water
instant coffee's packed at the store of winning & losing
do the tennis rackets confirm philosophy's quandary?
lend the ball a whack! it conforms by winning or losing
there's a cup of chai that I favor when in Baroda
fresh with adarak deft the pour no winning no losing
in Beijing it's pu'er we drink a costlier habit
eighty years it's aged for the noir of winning & losing
with the train on track comfy sleepers drowsed through their dreaming
junctions back-on-back made me sore with winning & losing!
there was not one window nor door intact in the building
every portal cracked in a war of winning & losing
when the mouse of theory squeaked "I'm the king of the forest!"
all its sentence lacked was the roar of winning & losing
the initial scene lends the story sharp definition
by the final act every moron's winning or losing
in the marketplace of existence freedom's enshrouded
while each price-tag tattles "we're born for winning or losing"
"you could add more nettles!" quipped Milarepa serenely
he'd in end subtracted a storm of winning & losing
(vi)
should we try to placate the ghoul who mortaly plagues us?
could one scratch its back and ignore the winning & losing?
love's verandah might not look hard when first you apprise it
one soft wall could easily floor your winnings & losings
late in life I'm practicing raag distilling its potion
till I drown in alap & jor my winnings & losings
from the hotel's balcony honking cars proclaim "India!
has she drawn you back? come adore her winnings & losings"
all are born stark naked attire's our cultural wrapping
with the tie & jacket we wore our winnings & losings
you but glimpsed the dream of her blush anon you departed?
parting's thorn awakens the sore of winning & losing
the Tibetan beauty desires to practice her English!
virtual addresses consort with winning & losing
in the dark the minaret's call awakens Baroda
in a trice bird-clamour's imploring winning & losing
you're intoning kharaj the bass note pitched at the bottom
like a stealth attack in a war of winning & losing
every string we strum frames a sentence we am receiving
long confinement thwacks at the chord of winning & losing
(vii)
every line I cast seeks a fish from aqueous darkness
this lagoon in fact is a door of winning & losing!
does each verse I croon limn my dreaming of the belovèd
lost in slumber's rapture untorn by winning & losing?
every horn that honks in the city blares an agenda
every wing that flaps by the shore is winning & losing
every word we're floating in silence whispers our longing
every leaf that crackles reports our winning & losing
every sound from creature or object renders a message
every teacup harbors a storm of winning & losing
every jot philosophers pen is probing for treasure
aren't miner's mad for the ore of winning & losing?
every whiff of bread draws a map describing our hunger
every pinch of chat charts a score of winning & losing
every course refits a design perforce we discover
every horse was saddled before the winning & losing
in the hearse is cradled the man born crying tomorrow
in the playpen waddles his form of winning & losing
down the street there lumbers a bullock nibbling at grasses
in the lake there settles a corpse still winning & losing
(viii)
lost in dusk I puff my cheroot whose ash falls haphazard
deep in earth there wriggles the worm of winning & losing
in the skillet sizzles a meal the hungry require
in the bucket echoes the norm of winning & losing
in the circus of the surreal the barker extolls you
though the mirror badly distorts the winning & losing
in this sojourn fictional stops assemble & vanish
there's no train nor track! still a horn sounds winning & losing
for the healing herb you (in time's nick) toted the mountain!
love reveals such capable charm in winning & losing
fruits be drowned in you! does your peal of laughter restore them?
can the ocean's cackling shore up winning & losing?
when we've lost our way will your feet remember our forehead?
from my solo shack hear the choir of winning & losing
it appeared so gentle! a hobby blithe & amusing
then the poem hacked through the door of winning & losing!
the distinctions jurists insist on love must relinquish
richly journey back to be poor in winnings & losings
in your name they're lost your nazar appears as their winning
kindly wait a sec! I'm a'blur with winnings & losings
(ix)
every morn we're turning a page that opens a window
every night we're back at the door of winning & losing
having fetched an instrument why not linger & play it
like a serious hack who adores such winnings & losings?
don't be silent! we must hear everything from the beginning
won't love woo us back with its lore of winnings & losings?
it may need a week just to read the name on the wrapping!
did your genius package a tour of winnings & losings?
when we find a corner obscure enough we'll sit pretty
artforms grow ecstatic unlearning winning & losing
when the craftsman saws through the board the wood doesn't cavil
it has learned what practice is for through winning & losing
lovers freely dream of the day their loves will embrace them
blind as night they're shackled forlorn for winning & losing
in her grand charade reeling out for measureless aeons
Mahamaya acts through the form of winning & losing
colors all emerge from your waves O ocean of mercy!
and from you all fragrances pour no winning no losing
those who seek your aid receive grace O infinite mother!
every road winds back to your door past winning & losing
(x)
every morn the city awakens ready for showtime
every twirl in kathak disarms our winning & losing
choreography of the cars can't fail to astonish
a ballet so madly performed sans winning or losing
where the juggler catches each ball without apprehension
we perceive a savvy one scorning winning & losing
all are skilled! all love you sincerely all are deluded
thus we heed the tap of karun in winning & losing
where the days have limit & nights are numbered one moves in
parting's play whose practice affords no winning sans losing
those who love the rose must embrace her tragic condition
doesn't Jill love Jack through the thorn where winning means losing?
in a sea of infinite time each boat faces drowning
every nano-act drills a bore from winning to losing
does the dripping faucet drop hints of lost distant homelands?
may the ocean smack through the door of winning & losing!
life enlists us into her sport we dance at her bidding
no one makes some rabid uproar though winning or losing
what we do & think what we read or write trace out gestures
of the mute shade cast in rapport with winning & losing
(xi)
in the heart of night still the cricket utters its poem
is its crying vapid decor of winning & losing?
should one fetch him mountains of lucre would this mark triumph?
where his verse a flat ear abhors who's winning or losing?
grieving cricket! if you're the dream pray who is the dreamer?
though a bug you're manly what glorious winning & losing!
in the ring where bulls are embattled caution's essential
every spring a may may get gored for winning & losing
in the news don't figures you read amount to diversions?
can their sharpness cancel the blur of winning & losing?
when I glimpsed again Raphael at ease with his poem
I grew troubled "is there still more to winning & losing?
don't you grasp a flower wants terseness? stem the profusion!
in a spree of asking you've worn out winning & losing!"
Raphael! suppose one attends these turgid effusions?
is their gist you cannot endure life's winning & losing?
amid rain you pine for the sun in sun you want water!
it grows plain you're whacked to the core by winning & losing
where the word has gone to the heart revert to the silence
it's insane to chant evermore of winning & losing
(xii)
when the Buddha offered his view of pain & its ending
was the formless wrapped in the form of winning & losing?
when Lord Krishna sounded his flute in pastoral moonlight
did you dream a castle whose charm slew winning & losing?
after Christ came down from the cross & drowsed in a cavern
he awoke & passed through the door of winning & losing
in the dust at roadside one reads anonymous traces
in the books they ratch up the score of winning & losing
here's a comely garden they clip & water all seasons
butterfly! you're flitting before such winnings & losings
"spider's web" the signage for internet in these boondocks
I'm the fly you catch in the flower of winning & losing
village maidens hasten I know not where in a dreamscape
perfect foothils flap as you snore through winning & losing
to control the senses the wise encourage detachment
one may calm through practice the storm of winning & losing
when life thwarts the urge to create what faces extinction?
one traverses chastity's door both winning & losing?
are not needling needs lost in space when pining to find you?
does the earth retract if we soar past winning & losing?
(xiii)
every day one open a window on separation
every night we fasten the door on winning & losing
certain hours we gaze in the mirror placid & clueless
and betimes we're back on the floor of winning & losing
when the shoe has reached the road's end a roadway continues
at its drop the hat is reborn for winning & losing
vernal thoughts accost you amid the garden of autumn
who can claim to lack a rapport with winning & losing?
when you prize a distant belovèd sorrow grows friendly
batting eyes "come back to my floor of winning & losing"
who'll elucidate why the dream appears but to vanish?
oceanspray will splach on the shore of winning & losing
for a time in youth with guitar you'd dabble while singing
did no song you happened to strum touch winning & losing?
you were young anon you grow older season by season
you were innocent of the war of winning & losing
in those days you marched in dissent for carnage in Asia
in these nights you can't read the score of winning & losing!
in this sorry world happy hands still hasten to help you
don't neglect inshallah ignore the winning & losing
(xiv)
things are always shifting around no plan appears final
yet no change of plan shakes the core of winning & losing
every map we draw gets redrawn on each bracing morrow
by the froth that's slapping the shore of winning & losing
what's the paradox at the crux of every conception?
none's the thought not tapping the door of winning & losing
aren't histories in the books mere hints of an echo?
social fabrics swathe the decor of winning & losing
if you dash out thousands of verses who will this humor?
grows this persiflage a grand bore like winning & losing?
when inspired we soar to the rooftop lost in elation
then we drop to flap on the floor of winning & losing
what we are amounts to a rumor glimpsed in a mirror
what we're not adds grace to the score of winning & losing
having tendered summertime berries or autumn teardrops
may the heart awaken laved pure of winning & losing
on the bridge of infinite longing inches are miles
every second packs in an hour of winning & losing
when you beg your soul for the point of being or doing
its reply paints black the white floor of winning & losing
(xv)
every task perchance is a pretext who can but fathom
from what timeless flask you out-pour your winning & losing?
like a shell-game deft move your hands concealing the secret!
you reveal we're daft to adore such winning & losing
must the thread of spiritual search wax melodramatic?
grows the pearl organically shorn of winning & losing?
for long years I dithered with poetry to scant purpose
I've become impractical! worn-out winning & losing
in the land of giants the normal man is a midget
when the gods go gambling it dwarfs our winning & losing
with the squash & pumpkin the natives welcome the pilgrims
by your will they gather the corn of winning & losing
on this swing we float through the morn & sweep into evening
everything I hanker to learn through winning & losing
when you pass the tomb of Hafez invoke heaven's mercy
that love's pilgrimage be reborn sans winning or losing
"I have lost again!" cries Jelaluddin at the chessboard
but this time in fact he is shorn of winning & losing
in the Mahabharat where Arjun tarries in trouble
he your sight is granted that form past winning & losing
(xvi)
the mirage resembles a pool the pool seems a mirror
but the looking-glass proves a door of winning & losing
now the door equivocates closed will open our longing
you can purchase that at the store of winning & losing
when the willow peered in the pool she wept for such beauty
like Narcissus trapped by the lure of winning & losing
every heartbeat carries two notions now & tomorrow
we're sustained by what will endure all winning & losing
all the words are dead in the book until you revive them
they exist as chalk on the floor of winning & losing
by your gaze you grant my words life they live in your breathing
all the birds fly back at the hour of winning & losing
when they cried "a trisket! a trasket!" nobody listened
green & yellow laugh in the form of winning & losing
every fairytale holds terrors wedded with wonders
don't you wonder what will be born from winning & losing?
my beloved's hair is as long as night's longest tale
head to tail it spans like the lore of winning & losing
Raphael! I plainly beseech you love without question
like his wife Jack Spratt won the war of winning & losing
(xvii)
when the hand you seek is afar the feet seem pathetic
can't they find a path to her door through winning or losing?
when the heart enjoys her rapport are feet apathetic?
they create the path on a floor of winning & losing
neither hands nor feet know the score & hearts can be broken
we are tanned & blackened & worn out winning & losing
life is fiction fiction achieves the feeling of living
there's no juice in fact till it's torn by winning & losing
do you look to poetry hoping to find safe harbor?
refugees drift back with the lore of winning & losing
at last night's recital guitar-sitar jugalbandi
from the gypsies' track the conour of winning & losing
it's the candid cry of the bulbul that the heart hearkens
shady lies but quack on the shore of winning & losing
the exquisite note isn't one that sounds at full volume
as its play's enacted it soars while winning & losing
the santoor with a hundred strings tells the softest tale
the ektar's deep twang feels the score of winning & losing
in each shape of beauty she pours some glimpse of her secret
with each swar Saraswati performs her winnings & losings
(xviii)
seeking truth gets billed as a craze & not incorrectly
it's a frame to shatter all norms of winning & losing
the Madhyamika views both self & world as but empty
emptiness as the basic core of winning & losing
empty mind empty the physique empty the emotions
there's an emptiness reservoir in winning & losing
in the lamp of union they found no wick & no candle
whiffs of smoke recalled the lost score of winning & losing
the full voice arises & falls regardless of meaning
empty meanings stand on a shore of winning & losing
with the needle of your perception pierce this dark language
darkling night black cat thought obscure that winning & losing
though one beat this theme to a pulp its death isn't witnessed
we've the doom of Kafka exploring winning & losing
where the comic fringes the tragic merits fine study
the comedo-tragic is shown by winning & losing
winning-LOSing! winning-losING winning-losing-WINning!
in the Arctic & Ecuador they're winning & losing!
Raphael! stop egging me on! you scramble my brain! why
must time's whip have cracking in store both winning & losing?
(xix)
what the stones desire the flowers describe more completely
language blooms from fragments & bones of winning & losing
what the stars are seeking the earth explains in translation
you can read spectacular tomes of winning & losing
what the night reported the day forgot until evening
what the dawn suspected we learn from winning & losing
I've arrived in Dilli my heart perhaps resides elsewhere
what is dil? a taxi for touring winning & losing
in a dargah where the beloved's fused with the framework
of the world I prattle no more of winning & losing
MOVED (2 verses):
those who know don't speak those who speak are lacking in knowing
Lao Tzu's puzzle raps at the door of winning & losing
all our lines were rattles we wore the tide fetches silence
Meher Baba shatters the floor of winning & losing
Raphael! you've changed your address who'll forward love's letter?
was your universe written for mere winning & losing?
[delete this? or put somewhere else, just prior to Haridwar?]
in the train to Haridwar happiness travels with me
all the world's a stage (as it were) of winning & losing
[delete this?]
this hotel is lacking hot water brisk is the shower
take a bracing bath then let's tour the winnings & losings
======
(STILL IN PROG . . . last parts very sketchy)
YOUR UNIVERSE: a Ghazal (completed in Haridwar, 22 November 2007;
started in Delhi 27 October 2007, with some intermediate parts
also written in Baroda)
Notes
verse 148 paraphrases & rewrites a couplet from Hafez-i-Shiraz
--------
Saturday, November 3, 2007
in baroda
Baroda is now Vadodara -- a thing I learned, initially, when the Indian Railways website offered no "Baroda" station. This follows the trend of major metros [as they call big cities here] toward de-Britification of municipality-naming: from Bombay to Mumbai, from Madras to Chennai, from Bangalore to Namma Bangaluru, from Calcutta to Chennai, and (as said) from Baroda to Vadodara.
Debarking from my 14-hour "sleeper-class" train bogie [car] just shy of 4 a.m., I thought I might walk to one or another of the couple of nearby hotels whose names I had jotted in my pocket notebook -- the little blue volume a gift of my English student in Beijing, "Lisa" Xiao Ying -- a bright young English-major whose English was more fluent when typing then when conversing; she would prefer sending me detailed text messages rather than answer a mobile phone call and face the problem of figuring out my audible words. We wandered some parts of Beijing for a couple of days, the conversation growing a bit surreal on my part when, sharing a late-night repast at a well-lighted diner not far from lake Hou Hai, I related to her the conversations between the eggplant and the dofu (the eggplant, I think, was the philosophical optimist, the dofu the pessimist -- warning of impending eating). Finally the chopsticks chimed in with additional thoughts. This comprised my most concentrated English lesson. But Xiao Ying also helped me understand the remarks (mostly in Chinese, though with some in English) of the Tibetan beauty, De Qing Wang Mu, to whose "Made in Paradise" botique, adjaent Hou Hai, chance or destiny (depending on whether your view is more eggplant or dofu) had delivered our wandering steps. Before reaching this happy merchantile niche, we first heard the notes of gu zheng played by a musician whose hand-scrawled (Chinese) placard announced his wish or need to sell the instrument. I played a few notes, having first noted I didn't plan to buy the fine instrument. But all this is a half-formed digression into recent Chinese memory . . . jumping off from the blue notebook in which, still, my important daily notes are being entered, including two (so far) lessons from my Vadodara vichitra vina teacher. In whose neighborhood (Ellora Park) I'm internet-cafe-ensconsed at the moment, with 45 minutes to spare before today's (my 3rd) lesson in the astonishing, challenging, endangered-species of an instrument.
"Would you like idlies? We are going . . ." remarks the proprietor of this electric-fan-cooled mini-shop with its 5 terminals (presumably on offer at the local-standard rate of Rs. 15 per hour). No, no idlies required here . . . but I assure the chap I'll watch his shop while he steps out. He's soon back, tuning the radio to filmi music, jury-rigging a USB port for another customer. Such is life in Vadodara.
The shop is on a side street, some 4 meters wide and 8 meters deep, painted bright orange -- usually Hanuman's color; normally, if you see this color by a street mandir, you can expect to see the monkey-god's image therein. Yesterday, I sat in meditation before one such image, up another side road, across the main road from here, -- that image (in enjoyably gaudy colors of orange, green, and a kind of chartreuse) showing the hero lifting the fabled mountain . . . a hagiographic exploint I recalled in one sher of a ghazal, added to the still-growing, prolix poem on my blog:
[incomplete & in-prog notes]
Debarking from my 14-hour "sleeper-class" train bogie [car] just shy of 4 a.m., I thought I might walk to one or another of the couple of nearby hotels whose names I had jotted in my pocket notebook -- the little blue volume a gift of my English student in Beijing, "Lisa" Xiao Ying -- a bright young English-major whose English was more fluent when typing then when conversing; she would prefer sending me detailed text messages rather than answer a mobile phone call and face the problem of figuring out my audible words. We wandered some parts of Beijing for a couple of days, the conversation growing a bit surreal on my part when, sharing a late-night repast at a well-lighted diner not far from lake Hou Hai, I related to her the conversations between the eggplant and the dofu (the eggplant, I think, was the philosophical optimist, the dofu the pessimist -- warning of impending eating). Finally the chopsticks chimed in with additional thoughts. This comprised my most concentrated English lesson. But Xiao Ying also helped me understand the remarks (mostly in Chinese, though with some in English) of the Tibetan beauty, De Qing Wang Mu, to whose "Made in Paradise" botique, adjaent Hou Hai, chance or destiny (depending on whether your view is more eggplant or dofu) had delivered our wandering steps. Before reaching this happy merchantile niche, we first heard the notes of gu zheng played by a musician whose hand-scrawled (Chinese) placard announced his wish or need to sell the instrument. I played a few notes, having first noted I didn't plan to buy the fine instrument. But all this is a half-formed digression into recent Chinese memory . . . jumping off from the blue notebook in which, still, my important daily notes are being entered, including two (so far) lessons from my Vadodara vichitra vina teacher. In whose neighborhood (Ellora Park) I'm internet-cafe-ensconsed at the moment, with 45 minutes to spare before today's (my 3rd) lesson in the astonishing, challenging, endangered-species of an instrument.
"Would you like idlies? We are going . . ." remarks the proprietor of this electric-fan-cooled mini-shop with its 5 terminals (presumably on offer at the local-standard rate of Rs. 15 per hour). No, no idlies required here . . . but I assure the chap I'll watch his shop while he steps out. He's soon back, tuning the radio to filmi music, jury-rigging a USB port for another customer. Such is life in Vadodara.
The shop is on a side street, some 4 meters wide and 8 meters deep, painted bright orange -- usually Hanuman's color; normally, if you see this color by a street mandir, you can expect to see the monkey-god's image therein. Yesterday, I sat in meditation before one such image, up another side road, across the main road from here, -- that image (in enjoyably gaudy colors of orange, green, and a kind of chartreuse) showing the hero lifting the fabled mountain . . . a hagiographic exploint I recalled in one sher of a ghazal, added to the still-growing, prolix poem on my blog:
for the healing herb you in time's nick carried the mountainSuch, too, is life in Vadodara.
love reveals such tactical force in winning & losing
[incomplete & in-prog notes]
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
ghazal ("a special form of losing")
You chose me for a special for of losing
my face is calm my heart's a storm of losing
I entered college like the average fellow
but lived like Kafka in a dorm of losing
I'm getting now the hang of conversation
I'm gaining ground & growing warm in losing
a hundred voices chatter bright & blithely
a thousand actions feel the karm of losing
I wander parks of greenery & babble
where golden leaves the lawn adorn in losing
the afternoon is bland the moment lingers
the tissue of the hour is torn in losing
the sould is never lost but in its sojourn
it wildly veers to keep the norm of losing
the game goes on and to Raphael's credit
his poetry regains the form of losing
(for Chitra Mudgal)
Song ("Nothing but you") (more or less ghazal)
When I look into the sky I see nothing but you
when I gaze into your eye there is nothing not you
though the day is long & weary and the night shows not an end
though I live or though I die I see nothing but you
in the market of the merchant where the price of pearls is high
what I sell & what I buy contains nothing but you
in the stream of limpid water when the fish is running free
when the bird begins to fly I see nothing but you
in the city with its hubbub every car must honk its horn
red or green though I espy I see nothing but you
Raphael the thought you utter is a thing too plain to speak
even though your lips may lie I hear nothing not true
==========
song composed Monday morning (29 Oct.), to a melody in raag Bhairavi; and sung (with surpeti drone) as a concluding item in the reading I gave in evening of the same day, at the Opus Lounge, Vasant Vihar, Delhi -- an enjoyable event organized by Delhi Poetree.
when I gaze into your eye there is nothing not you
though the day is long & weary and the night shows not an end
though I live or though I die I see nothing but you
in the market of the merchant where the price of pearls is high
what I sell & what I buy contains nothing but you
in the stream of limpid water when the fish is running free
when the bird begins to fly I see nothing but you
in the city with its hubbub every car must honk its horn
red or green though I espy I see nothing but you
Raphael the thought you utter is a thing too plain to speak
even though your lips may lie I hear nothing not true
==========
song composed Monday morning (29 Oct.), to a melody in raag Bhairavi; and sung (with surpeti drone) as a concluding item in the reading I gave in evening of the same day, at the Opus Lounge, Vasant Vihar, Delhi -- an enjoyable event organized by Delhi Poetree.
Monday, October 29, 2007
ghazal ("the rhythm of your song")
I haven't yet caught the rhythm of your song
though having long sought the rhythm of your song
in the annals of night we read how even your friends
initially fought the rhythm of your song
in every village they play in pools of your color
where murthis are wraught in rhythms of your song
light's history is preserved in the banyon's shadow
where students are taught the rhythm of your song
where kettles are filled with water from this stream
there whistles a pot in rhythm with your song
while my hair grows thin my heart still longs to find you
there thickens a plot in rhythm with your song
wherever I look I see enigmatic pictures
all hover in naught in rhythm with your song
not yet have I reached the city of your secret
I am still en route in rythm with your song
a surprising twist curls out from the branch that's breathing
no one learned by rote all rhythms of your song
each syllable finds the ridge or groove of feeling
chistled out by thought in rhythm with your song
from a distant mountain to her exotic shop
has a merchant brought the rhythm of your song?
Raphael whose pockets kept dull coins of thinking
perceptively bought the rhythm of your song
Thursday, October 25, 2007
ghazal ("only for your ear")
No one hears me! what if I wait only for your ear?
I came early! what if I'm late only for your ear?
jewel! speak truly isn't it you somebody mentioned?
something pearly might lie in wait only for your ear
from dim twilight weren't my ears sharp & attentive?
dawn soft-girly eve dark-sedate only for your ear
phoenix hairpins could be procured passing through China
are you curly? is your hair straight? only for your ear
through the window leisurely gait! languid illusion
through the night a'droop at my gate only for your ear
hello stranger! nice to see you! how was your journey?
put your feet up! (ancienet soul-mate!) only for your ear
some who sit here seem half-familiar with the pathetic
thoughts come swirly feelings florate only for your ear
mocking smiles pitying eyes brush off your dumb poem
Raphael! I've polished a blind date only for your ear
ghazal
Who is absent? who is present? who is asking?
what if "is" bleeds into "isn't"? who is asking?
is the question effervescent? who is asking?
could the self be evanescent who is asking?
is it true the silent painting poses questions?
who will answer? it's the docent who is asking
we're aprey to what's apparent quiet carnage
does the son sire the parent? who is asking?
social circles circulate they're rarely static
was the party merely pleasant? who is asking?
for the question that I'm probing ground needs breaking
here's the loam that tills this peasant "who is asking?"
asking questions is the habit of the thinker
one who feels is also present who is asking
from clear problems to solutions draw a distance
where the poser's barely nascent who is asking?
from the posture of the tree a hundred branches!
for reply of every percent who is asking?
some find the question's form leads to its answer
but mind you answer this doesn't who is asking?
by the lane of implication through the meadow
in the land of ever-wasn't who is asking?
Raphael! your merry riddles spin around but
one who's grinning squarely isn't who is asking
ghazal ("without you")
Whatever I do is useless without you
my arguments prove excuseless without you
you are the flower and likewise you're the fruit
my poetry remains juiceless without you
don't you exude the answer questions yearn for?
mind's monologue can't produce this without you
the engine of existence dwells in your smile
the train of thought is cabooseless without you
the world's a mere mirage cast by your shadow
but how could a man deduce this without you?
every bloke hankers to bloom his ego's glory
we're powerless to reduce this without you
granules of truth ground the cuisine of meaning
what cook has skill to couscous this without you?
your blends of energy brim with jasmine fragrance
our empty cup can't infuse this without you
the sober world that looms darkly comedic --
what loon could Lenny Bruce this without you?
I'm up the proverbial creek lacking a paddle
what savant of streams canoes this without you?
the bend of the note invoking depth of feeling --
no artist perfectly blues this without you
your presence crackles electric like the raincloud
what weatherman could conduce this without you?
O slender moon! you're the alchemy of the night
can day transform my obtuseness without you?
yours is the veil that hides and then reveals!
no Salome dance seduces without you
lies poetry in nearness or perspective?
what vantage truly enthuses without you?
yours is the whim behind facades of reason
no chance anyone chooses without you
the scope of your gaze isn't just encyclopedic
illusion's pierced! we confuse this without you
adrift in the world a'float in poetry's bubble --
experience cannot use this without you
seven seas of feeling echo with your laughter
Narcissus emptiness cruises without you
reports filed from the front of beauty's backside --
the blundering world old news is without you
that fool Raphael presumed he might cardsharps ace
his babble but "what the deuce!" is without you
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
light ghazal ("in China")
This evening I stroll all around a lake in China
the girl with me born in the year of snake in China
we mention Wang Wei & the Li Sao over dinner
fresh centuries flow with ancient heartbreak in China
the charmingest damsel I meet is a Tibetan
for English lessons her email I take in China
musicians from India fetch we thence to China
Allah alone knows what might be at stake in China
that Raphael scrawls occasional verse you've noticed?
seems like an old habib he couldn't break in China
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
ghazal ("this moment")
Can scraps of yesterday ever suffice this moment?
we've got to fight our way to paradise this moment
your lore when painted gray patently hides your story
the shore where palmtrees sway seems so precise this moment
when round & round she goes who knows her destination?
the denouement at play twirls with the dice this moment
each character on stage blends a bouquet of nuance
by gumbo this buffet's spread to entice this moment
I wonder how it works! that's why I play with language
the marvel of today teems with device this moment
a bevy of intrigues joust in a tiny teahouse
the man in the beret calls the police this moment
you cast elegant lines! when you reel in? slim pickings
you spend your last cliche merely concise this moment
so much one cannot say hovers in implication
painterly stacks of hay subtly slice this moment
I'll meet you 'round the bend after the race inshallah
I've seen the hotshots hey! they don't play nice this moment
the wise concur her cheek plots out the curl of meaning
some girl beside the bay so satisfies this moment
excuse my breeze through town I'm on a lethal errand
the soughing of the ney exacts a price this moment
a hundred times we've failed to comprehend bare sunlight
the road to Mandalay's covered in ice this moment
I thought I'd proffer garlands in the rosy season
my pocket guards a grain or two of rice this moment
you're tardy Raphael but from the lobby listen!
her single voice conveys everything twice this moment
Sunday, October 21, 2007
ghazal ("into the weave of the poem")
How deep can you pierce into the weave of the poem?
the hand disappears into the sleeve of the poem
the peering eye blears panning & sieving the poem
careening who steers? pulled by the heave of the poem
to sweep through its spheres null disbelief in the poem
the heart's balladeers loll on the leaf of the poem
through hours & years patient retrieving the poem
hope fending off fears blindly believing the poem
* * * * * *
if ink perchance smears painting's conceived in Rabindra
if old get new ears quaintly naive in the poem
to hazard careers on rash irrational gambles
the danger zone nears then the reprieve of the poem
strange symmetry steers recitative in the crow's nest
the symphony tears into a reef in the poem
the lamp becomes fierce seemingly manic-depressive
the laugh becomes tears sweetly you grieve in the poem
* * * * * *
man booted from Eden loss is gaining its gesture
solicitude nears bosomed by Eve in the poem
the ground of the fall springs from primordial heartbreak
where pathways appear all interweave in the poem
night's chanter declares this ink an ocean of love-notes!
till dawn's chanticleers let's not take leave of the poem
you love a beloved hence are the heavens moving
her tress with star-gears gets interleaved in the poem
* * * * * *
perfection's her hangout an inhibiting address!
esteem of one's peers? petulant peeve of the poem
where writers set snares Rama himself couldn't see through
iridescent deer darkly deceive in the poem
a good doctor swears by what's engraved in time's marrow
why settle for merest aperitifs in the poem?
to tell you the truth I'm often stunned with confusion
as dust anon clears where went the thief? in the poem
I tended my desk playing their game in the office
a stalemate nears? I've gone on leave in the poem
* * * * * *
impossible grace punctured by fate gets deflated
the clip of the shears you might perceive in the poem
in dream you descry nuggets gone gold! but awaking
the threshing-ground sneers grainless these sheaves of the poem
creation inspires yet things require dissolution
you witness Shakespeare greet Mahadev in the poem
to Delhi I've come seeking a tumbler of ocean!
don't hawk souvenirs bring me the wave of the poem
sharp entrepreneurs hone what a hundred heads fancy
might one dull heart hear what you achieve in the poem?
what architects build myriads of bodies inhabit
soul's secret frontiers hide in the eaves of the poem
we face dismal odds dear Raphael you ignore them
your countenance cheers even conceiving the poem
Friday, October 19, 2007
ghazal ("my life")
I wouldn't go so far as to say I've wasted my life
if bitterly yet sweetly today I've tasted my life
in editing the author of fate shows surgical zeal
it's startling how cutting away he's pasted my life
on pilgrimage the shoes must be shed & then you bow low
at every step it's proper to pray while pacing through life
in youth I leaned toward falling in love at drop of a hat
grown old how draw (she shoos me away) her waiste in my life?
why needle me? I'm mixing the brew that bubbles with joy!
your poison glance with little dismay is laced in my life
if news-breaks blare some newspapers say "the blood flowed like ink"
with dawn's quiet crack can none your soiree erase from my life
exploring roadways rarely described on regular maps
aren't finest pearls if widely I stray encased in my life?
at fifty can you mount new careers in painting & film?
dismount time is when Yama's display is placed in my life
why's Raphael a'brew with fat plans embracing the globe?
a slender moon with branches a'sway I've faced in my life
ghazal ("how poetry operates")
I've lately been struggling to see how poetry operates
observe in a company of three how poetry operates
when she you feel powerless to seek embodies the soul's ideal
engage intermediarily how poetry operates
in language the energy lies where? why wax theoretical?
locked in show by groping for the key how poetry operates
the trill of the songbird deconstructs its golden captivity
by dreaming the prisoner might free how poetry operates
how song is the shimmer of the dream implies through the vertical
(through A shines a glimmering of Z) how poetry operates
is hazard endemic to the road of artistry's pilgrimage?
what scholar can glibly guarantee how poetry operates?
we stew in our superficial brew till she deigns to fish us out
transforming like wine or else like brie how poetry operates
the play of the generous is glimpsed in language's labyrinth
you smuggle through coverings of me how poetry operates
some poets grow terribly intrigued with cosmic conspiracy
some lean feel the gravity & ski! how poetry operates
the point of society involves the beauty of courtesy
in archways of solitude we see how poetry operates
when begging the operator for your telephone numeral
she whispers "ask zero one two three how poetry operates!"
I'd love to hear Raphael expound his muddled philosophy
mud shows longing for the wide sea how poetry operates
Thursday, October 18, 2007
ghazal ("where have you gone?")
When candidly I ask where have you gone?
with silence as your mask where have you gone?
beyond the effervescence of beginnings
where empty sits the flask where have you gone?
you were so bounteous with hope & promise
let me take you to task where have you gone?
inadequate proves every explanation
flowing from reason's cask where have you gone?
a basket filled with figs for Cleopatra!
she mentioned death by asp where have you gone?
when jewelers spread their wares beware the dazzle
where price exceeds your grasp where have you gone?
the musk-deer went in search of heady fragrance
our hearts desire your musk where have you gone?
I lose you in a hundred lines of discourse
forgive me if I'm brusque where have you gone
I meant "where are you?" not "what was the menu?"
forget tomato bisque where have you gone?
the chick within its nest is sitting pretty!
one rude push comes with risk where have you gone?
no rice within the bag? in floral districts
the water trade is brisk where have you gone?
we'd go to endless concerts in that city
of Debussy & Liszt where have you gone?
such tales of light resounded like a dream-world!
before our eyes could bask where have you gone?
that heist was so banal! I'd call it hackneyed
the de rigueur ski-mask? where have you gone?
they say you've moved to India for your painting!
sounds rather Gauguinesque where have you gone?
deep poets absorb Tasawwuf morn & evening
till such a cup is quaffed where have you gone?
Farhad! don't yet describe your wondrous needle!
until the mountain's cleft where have you gone?
Majnun was like the other lads till Laila's
stray glance set him adrift "where have you gone?"
I thought I caught your scent but then you vanished
here winds forever waft where have you gone?
for Raphael you posed demented riddles
he's lost it & gone daft where have you gone?
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
ghazal ("improvised")
I'll show you my hand my life of late is improvised
as time reels me in I cry "the bait was improvised?"
who knows how the map of fortune finds its imprint here?
the way that you might meet your soul-mate seems improvised
if crookedness comes most naturally we learn to curl
geometries of the sharp & straight aren't improvised
we've scope to make plans when things appear half-knowable
our program where unknown worlds await is improvised
though tardy in life I'm studying sastri sangeet
the timeliness in my balding pate is improvised
the currents of conversation bring astonishment
the course that the boatmen navigate is improvised
emotional language can spark a creative ring
harangues of a man waxing irate are improvised
when Valmiki sat in dhyana and the bird was felled
the sloka of one compassionate was improvised
you glimpse her perhaps across the room & go to chat
the banter that might lead to a date is improvised
a camera-dealer from Fez managed to hoodwink me
the train of thought carrying this freight was improvised
distinguishing real from false refines the amateur
the mesh of mind when we meditate is improvised
cacophony in the marketplace is marvelous
the stall fashioned from a mango crate is improvised
the size of the shoe you seek here is negotiable
the measure with which they calibrate was improvised
the birth of the soul! but you've said soul is infinite
whatever birthday we celebrate is improvised
tell me what it means to spend my life with poetry?
this coin that I spend if marked by fate is improvised
for paying the bills one needs a certain livelihood
the prospects of my uncertain state are improvised
new notions appear from disparate points of origin
the breezes that can cross-pollinate are improvised
each hour of the day requires a differing melody
the music that we anticipate is improvised
religion & science each describe your unseen face
the features that they extrapolate are improvised
no sooner we blinked we gazed upon your curving cheek
are dreams that the heavens allocate just improvised?
our yearning for you is basic like the earth itself
the song that the valleys resonate is improvised
I wanted to find a sweetheart who might kiss my brow
imaginings are most delicate when improvised
the path to her heart is not described by fixed ideas
can Salome's dance decapitate? it's improvised
this darbar has yet to hear the poetry I seek
what Brahma's reluctant to create is improvised
perhaps Saraswati's vina hides my final home
the hovels my thoughts now cogitate are improvised
I've travelled the world a little bit and washed up here
the waving hand as it raps your gate is improvised
verandahs of antique poetry seem scalable!
occasions when they defenestrate are improvised
I trained myself in qafia & radif you know
now beher the cadence with its gait I improvise
I've never been schooled in Urdu like Mirza Ghalib
his elegance I impersonate is improvised
that Raphael has a heart we learn through inference
its beat drumming up a lavish plate is improvised
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
ghazal
Each morning arrives from a distance hard to fathom
with slumber it strives from a distance hard to fathom
the lure that would hoodwink the fish spans air & water
one flounders or thrives from a distance hard to fathom
the internet opens a window on life's causeway
they advertise wives from a distance hard to fathom
the call center fielding your question plays at banter
in manners contrived from a distance hard to fathom
old films & recordings reel out the voice of dead men
still talking their jive from a distance hard to fathom
when Mahapralaya has halted every story
the world will revive from a distance hard to fathom
stray childhood feelings return in wizened musings
dim glimmers survive from a distance hard to fathom
industrious bees having swarmed retain their culture
reconvening hives from a distance hard to fathom
the conceits of reincarnation are too surreal!
fabricating lives from a distance hard to fathom
the circus is chok-a-blok with amusing side-shows
some pummelling knives from a distance hard to fathom
while the band plays on see the deaths & births & dramas!
partiers high-five from a distance hard to fathom
considering this Raphael why are you pensive?
everyone swan-dives from a distance hard to fathom
Monday, October 15, 2007
ghazal
Experiments may be conducted in isolation
diseases are never contracted in isolation
the life of the world is collective like puzzle pieces
each scene of the play though enacted in isolation
each day of the life is a question awaiting answer
experience must be dissected in isolation
sitar doesn't emulate Western orchestral music
the voice gets completely perfected in isolation
a million droplets are seeking to reach the ocean
each dot on the pane is rejected in isolation
solutions are finally reported in public briefings
the clues of the crime were detected in isolation
the thread running throughout the ghazal is strong confusion!
bewilderment's pearls are inspected in isolation
we seek you in every desire and every question
your myriad forms get depicted in isolation
embodiment's prison while public feels deeply private
each solitude cell seems a study in isolation
where Raphael's thirsting for knowledge the clouds drift distant
his garden has not been neglected in isolation
the impulse to love is implicit in every valley
we live below mountains impacted in isolation
should Raphael die from his pining a lonesome stranger
please title his volume "collected in isolation"
Sunday, October 14, 2007
ghazal
I'm just a croaking frog and nothing more
a wisp of urban smog and nothing more
the flow of language moves through veins & breathings
I'm here to clear the clog and nothing more
do warblers ever tire of crazy singing?
I'm barking like a dog and nothing more
each moment brings another wave of music
my life's an open blog and nothing more
what was the point of name & fame & glamor?
suave falling from a log and nothing more
some feel the universe a dream of Kafka's
some say he lived in Prague and nothing more
should I awake from Maya's dark deception
I'll mutter "guten tag" and nothing more
religion gets diluted through convention
is Christmastide eggnog and nothing more?
the wheel of time's too vast for comprehension
I'm living as a cog and nothing more
don't bid farewell if Raphael should exit
he's going for a jog and nothing more
Saturday, October 13, 2007
ghazal
The one one seeks isn't precisely anywhere
till silence speaks how may its voice be anywhere?
the days & weeks flee! in a trice are seasons gone
time vanishes when you would kiss me anywhere
I leave your house hoping to find the road to you!
without your hint none will apprise me anywhere
the benefits flowing from you are mysteries
mere catalogues rarely entice me anywhere
pursuing you how could one look for wide acclaim?
your narrow eyes strictly suffice me anywhere
now here now gone! poets endure your fickle whims
figure of grace! prithee reprise me anywhere
one struggles on stories are gained from journeying
while bread-crumb trails threaten to lose me anywhere
around your board myriads of eyes are looking on
the dice you toss always surprise me anywhere
complaints emerge whispering in autumnal wind
soft petals might spring to amuse me anywhere
thin paper boats entering the stream of asking "when?"
some villager already knows me anywhere
the thought of you serves for the soul as food & drink
your fragrant words waft in to sauce me anywhere
a hundred songs strive to describe your simple ways
unknowables solely arouse me anywhere
a settled life seems like a modest aim to seek --
horizon smiles quietly craze me anywhere
won't Raphael finally begin to feel your breeze?
the rustling leaves really amaze me anywhere
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