ghazal: "the primary thing"

To cultivate sheer soul   is the primary thing
to love   as fate's dice roll   is the primary thing

each day   a different experience emerges
to contemplate the whole   is the primary thing

our efforts merely efforts (chalked off as normal)
to keep seeking the goal   is the primary thing

where the mine looks dark   it harbors hidden treasure
a diamond pressed from coal   is the primary thing

music painting and poetry   three currencies
we've means to pay time's toll   is the primary thing

it was lengthy   and pointless   till you smiled at me
the bottom line read droll   is the primary thing

success and failure miss the point   adventure
with gusto to extoll   is the primary thing

to India or China?   whither Raphael?
a pilgrim's begging bowl   is the primary thing

ghazal: "toward what I aspired"

Toward what I aspired half-blind   eluded me   yet   something occurred
what thing I desired to find   precluded me   yet   something occurred

the sense of the seeking was what   was finding me   this   and only this?
the form of the meaning   rarely   accrued in me   yet   something occurred

we hadn't come   for a funeral   we expected   lavish parties
the shirt I was wearing   denuded me   yet   something occurred

the contention   proved ubiquitous   romance   is always a gamble
the Capulets grew   Montagued in me   yet   something occurred

Raphael   was the site of a query   or a question mark   at least
the turn of the world   was unscrewed in me   yet   something occurred

ghazal: "the case is"

The case is   that the poetry   is meditation
the basis of the poetry   is meditation

the tortoise can outstrip the hare   as Aesop noted
their race is   amid poetry   our meditation

disorientation!   what is real or false?   Maya
displaces love   and poetry   and meditation

in mazes of thought we're lost   who'll reveal the roadmap?
each phase is found in poetry   as meditation

as night departs rose dawn appears   brambling bright nights and
dark days!   this is our poetry   and meditation

O grimace   of the desert   what inspires your grin?
oasis   in the poetry   is meditation

your eyes are our light!   lead us toward your deep embrace
your gaze is known in poetry   as meditation

you pull us through vast universes   small craft put through
their paces   lost in poetry   and meditation

the knowledge of the infinite   isn't bought cheaply
bliss blazes   into poetry   in meditation

become for us   more palpable   than mere illusion
your place is   in our poetry   O meditation

your visage when unseen   where does your smile reach us?
your face is   in the poetry   and meditation

we grow distraught   when our search fails   who'l email you?
come grace us   in the poetry   and meditation

when you come   no one can stop you   when you go   you're gone
you chase us   in the poetry   and meditation

write us   we will read you!   come correct every error!
erase us   in the poetry   and meditation

protect us   where it matters!   the onslaught of Maya
won't mace us   in the poetry   and meditation

what a word is   requires   diverse definitions
a phrase is   in the poetry   our meditation

if you thaw our hearts   you'll recognize   what tears we weep
unglace us   in the poetry   and meditation

you transcend all praise   humbly   we survey your margins
your praise is   in our poetry   and meditation

none can distinguish   any more   the heads from tails
this haze is   in our poetry   and meditation

if the shoe fits   you can wear it   and wander the world
unlace us   in the poetry   and meditation

every card you deal us   brings anguish or gratitude
your ace is   in our poetry   pure meditation

your image is our refuge   your shade our ecstasy
our space is   in time's poetry   your meditation

why dwell remote?   O Nearness!   Raphael complains
embrace us   in our poetry   and meditation


[this is not yet the final version]

ghazal: "the full price"

The full price you exact is precise   though it takes a long time
truth will triumph by twirling the dice   though it takes a long time

the conditions for learning are everywhere   all is our school
we've been studying fire and ice   though it takes a long time

the belovèd is hidden   her veil is beauty's caprice
one could make the whole film with no splice   though it takes a long time

fine cuisine thrives on contrast   the sour's in need of the sweet
you could cook with mere sunlight and rice   though it takes a long time

if the yarn be a fiction   the dream it spins out yet enchants
worlds emerge and subside in a trice   though it takes a long time

if we're fighting   let's fight from the heart   love is dark as a sea
hold your fire till glimpsing white eyes   though it takes a long time

I don't know about oceans   but pearls come from somewhere perchance
pearl-like tears grow pelagic in price   though it takes a long time

what I glimpse of you   though a mere hint   brings my rash heart delight
I grow bold to unmask your disguise   though it takes a long time

I desired a story to lull me   and ease obscure pain
you obliged with a cosmic device   though it takes a long time

our surrender to you was ordained   from the very first dawn
each dusk moves a small turn of the vice   though it takes a long time

could it be you're the one I was waiting for?   life is absurd
there's a twist to the meshwork of sighs   though it takes a long time

every curving design's   a mark   of her smiling blinkers
we'll be blindsided by her white thighs   though it takes a long time

such autumnal thoughts!   curtains descend at the end of each act
spring's implied   floral answers arise   though it takes a long time

won't the candle proves useless   unless you've a pocketed match?
there's a singular curl when flame dies   though it takes a long time

the value of things peters out   what we cherish eludes us
our confusion encounters demise   though it takes a long time

I was born ululating   my cry is a sign of my life
others weep when this minstrelsy dies   though it takes a long time

tone the volume down   speak in a whisper   if meanings are real
those who listen   acknowledge truth's size   though it takes a long time

every spark you confided me   proved different from what I'd supposed!
such discursive truths spring from bald lies   though it takes a long time

every verse of my ghazal   each couplet I string   pierces veils
love's the burden song bears in reprise   though it takes a long time

our hellos are unending!   I greet you again and again
we'll endure the assault of goodbyes   though it takes a long time

in his poetry   Raphael dabbles   provoking deep thoughts
shallow critics admit it's half nice   though it takes a long time


[this is not yet the final version]

sonnet: step-wise tale

Bravo Jeet!   where your sonnet hits
the mark of the form's particular
potential   it encourages
reply-in-kind   if vehicular's
all language   whither ventures
the car that tools on syllables?
mightn't heart's long indentures
be anon paid   like parables
via journey's step-wise tale
past dark pools but lightly?
till the final parting veil
(after many lives or nightly)
strikes the deft term   connotive
of felicity's   pure motive

===========

A reply-poem, to one by Jeet Thayil (circulated as a note on Facebook), namely:

      DEAR EDITOR,

      Two reasons I like writing sonnets—
      and why two, why not fourteen
      good reasons, the shape compact and clean
      on the page, why not, since we’re on it?
      Well, one, I like the way it leads
      you by the hand down the measured stair
      of the page, leaves you resting on air
      as on an armchair, while someone reads
      to you the words you want to own.
      Two, I want to say something about bliss.
      I like bliss. And if I had to narrow it down
      to a couplet, I’d narrow it down to this:
      You start with a line and follow it through,
      the sonnet writes the sonnet, not you.

ghazal: "my parquetry"

I'm seated at the chessboard   late in life
defeated at the chessboard   late in life

the braid of dark and light   that attracts my heart
is pleated at the chessboard   late in life

thought's leisurely loaf   with its pliant forms
I've kneaded at the chessboard   late in life

a dualist oboe   you can hear here
twin-reeded   at the chessboard   late in life

this duel   is a decorous deathtrap
who'll beat it at the chessboard   late in life?

there's no move without loss?   you're arrested
rap-sheeted   at the chessboard   late in life

years pass   I still ponder   those fatal moves
slow-speeded   at the chessboard   late in life

each time I sit   our parley   reappears
I meet it at the chessboard   late in life

I'm game to play!   ready to engage you
repeat it at the chessboard   late in life

your gaze moves   from square to square within me
you've freed it   at the chessboard   late in life

inept to block your checkmate!   my vanquish
proceeded at the chessboard   late in life

this parquet   contains a tale of danger
you'll read it at the chessboard   late in life

immediate protection   not small talk
I've needed at the chessboard   late in life

after summer's harsh days   by quiet rains
beleaguered   at the chessboard   late in life

the impetus for love   seeks a clear path
impeded at the chessboard   late in life

after untold deaths   some perfect a way
to be good at the chessboard   late in life

the first move   is the dawn   of amazement
rose-cheeked   at the chessboard   late in life

the meaning of alap   is opening
slow-greeted   at the chessboard   late in life

unplugged   the phrase is bent to coolest blue
unheated   at the chessboard   late in life

was fate's   deceptive   ambiguity
well treated at the chessboard   late in life?

motives abstract   grow step-wise   specific
concreted at the chessboard   late in life

why prate of paradise?   when such a hope
out-petered at the chessboard   late in life

pastel dreams   at the stage of latency
deleted at the chessboard   late in life

the boys in the band   brag of Broadway nights
backstreeted at the chessboard   late in life

a glance that would launch ships   she once cast you?
I'm fleeted at the chessboard   late in life

what I know of you is wind   little more
half-heeded at the chessboard   late in life

I've listened for your note   soft and distant
I've waited at the chessboard   late in life

in a Manhattan minute   I'd meet you
heart-beated at the chessboard   late in life

come haunt me   belovèd   I'm willingly
afreeted at the chessboard   late in life

where remain   modest moves   to contemplate?
effeted at the chessboard   late in life

sun leads   the cloudscape follows   such a dance
Monet did   at the chessboard   late in life

a crude pawn   with the right move   proves dextrous
concede it at the chessboard   late in life

a suave queen   at the wrong place   gets worsted
unseated at the chessboard   late in life

the ocean first approached   than stepped aside
receded at the chessboard   late in life

come tangle again   O toreador!
I'm bleeding at the chessboard   late in life

where sly strategy pays off   you'll spot me
conceited at the chessboard   late in life

the case is admittedly   difficult
I plead it at the chessboard   late in life

we seek your intervention   who wound us
we need it at the chessboard   late in life

he failed to grasp   with sure clarity
what she did at the chessboard   late in life

the cake can be consumed   or else displayed?
I eat at the chessboard   late in life

no true thing can be said   in poetry?
forget it   at the chessboard   late in life

who cultivate   an agonized patience
can breed it at the chessboard   late in life

your garden is half thorns   and half roses
we weed it at the chessboard   late in life

your thorn-prick   inevitably piercing
succeeded   at the chessboard   late in life

with such a window view   you're my opera
box-seated at the chessboard   late in life

Lord Krishna   amid the field   sings wisdom
God geeted   at the chessboard   late in life

today you sport beret   anon fedora
Magritted at the chessboard   late in life

young summer!   can you grasp how it snowed
and sleeted   at the chessboard   late in life?

par for the course   infants   we've forgotten
what we did at the chessboard   late in life

love is cruel   chant crooners   were they all
maltreated at the chessboard   late in life?

romantics   favor my way   Sinatra
competed at the chessboard   late in life

bitter news   dusk mellows   dulcet cellos
Bach suited   at the chessboard   late in life

go watch TV   I'll study this mirror
glass teated at the chessboard   late in life

lavish meal or plain fare?   all (pardon me)
excreted at the chessboard   late in life

final justice?   it's just this   Nirvana
out-meted at the chessboard   late in life

who reach nonexistence   return to you
thus jeeted at the chessboard   late in life

we were lost in the throng   till stepping in
elited at the chessboard   late in life

sharp gains   sudden losses   vague learning's
discreted at the chessboard   late in life

paths are made   by walking   quoth Chuang Tzŭ
ways streeted at the chessboard   late in life

our will was in motion   but not steering
back-seated at the chessboard   late in life

singing Baba Little Blacksheep   are we?
I've bleated at the chessboard   late in life

in memory's microwave   everything's
reheated at the chessboard   late in life

is whiskey your liquor?   my parquetry
I've neated   at the chessboard   late in life

one square   cool scholars never noted   ex-
egited   at the chessboard   late in life

always honey with medicine admixed   bit-
tersweeted at the chessboard   late in life

at the center of thought   heart's gratitude
drum-beated at the chessboard   late in life

play done   you remain all-pervasive   A-
to-Z hid at the chessboard   late in life

iron rules   unbending   but have poets
half-cheated at the chessboard   late in life?

Zarathustra's handiwork?   a rumor
repeated at the chessboard   late in life

every feint   in time's tragic conversation
lies naked at the chessboard   late in life

ascend cliffs   while sitting in an armchair
soul cleated   at the chessboard   late in life

the road to Shu   is difficult to scale
as Li did   at the chessboard   late in life

lose ten thousand rounds   to gain ambergris!
secreted at the chessboard   late in life

who resign to you   become   to the wind
three-sheeted   at the chessboard   late in life

didn't Shams   win again?   yet was Rumi
completed at the chessboard   late in life

fresh curls of green appear   out of dark loam
when seeded at the chessboard   late in life

what do I tender?   this   guttering wick
Kali lit   at the chessboard   late in life

what's hidden in the heart   grows manifest
you bleed it   at the chessboard   late in life

where have Raphael's midnights   this season
retreated at the chessboard   late in life?



========================

Every line has 10 syllables.
a ghazal in 79 couplets (so far)

August 18: . . . but editing is still in progress


couplets on hold:

I'm one spinning cog   in your universe
a widget at the chessboard   late in life

away   the clamor   of the marketplace
all fleeted at the chessboard   late in life [?]


survival   as fruit of agile foresight
acceded at the chessboard   late at night
paraded

was foresight born   merely for survival?
created at the chessboard   late at night

what has been   your basic meditation?
you'll see it   at the chessboard   late in life

the predator of dawn   proved prey at dusk
who pleaded at the chessboard   late in life

though prey afore   as predators anon
exceeded at the chessboard   late in life

the tryst were half-announced   half-forgotten
belated   at the chessboard   late in life

to lose is no mean thing!   dying deepens
elated at the chessboard   late in life

lost happiness   yet rill-like runs   anti-
cipated at the chessboard   late in life

[alternate form of verse 8]:

I'm game to play!   ready to oppose you
repeat it at the chessboard   late in life


notes

alap: I'm not clear on the root meaning of alap in Sanskrit. The term signifies a process of improvisation that opens up the musical mode -- an essential approach in Indian classical music.

afreeted: haunted (possibly an English neologism, although I vaguely recall having seen the word used thusly somewhere -- if so, probably amid Victorian-era translations from Persian poetry); from afreet (Arabic): a powerful or frightening jinni.

geeted: besung. This would be an English-verb neologism, based on the Sanskrit noun gita [or geeta] (song), as in the Bhagavad Gita (Song of the Lord), in Hinduism the quintessential book of spiritual wisdom in form of a lengthy philosophical dialogue described as having occurred beside the Kurukshetra battlefield, during a lull (and the hero's Arjuna's befuddled indecision) prior to the conflagration of action.

suited: to be made into a suite. Again (but obviously), a verb neologism; here, intended to suggest Johan Sebastian Bach's notable Cello Suites.

glass teated: as in Harlan Elison's The Glass Teat (1970)

jeeted: rendered victorious; as English verb, this would be a neologism (based on the Hindi/Urdu noun jeet = victory)

elited : to be made into an elite

Chuang Tzŭ: a.k.a. (or, now more commonly spelled) Zhuangzi, the great Daoist writer. Burton Watson thusly translates the classic utterance here in question:
      A road is made by people walking on it;
      things are so because they are called so.
Another rendering of the same reads:
      A way is made by walking it
      A thing is so by calling it

parquetry: the geometrical mosaic of patterned square wood pieces, as found on a chessboard, often used decoratively; see: parquetry

exegited: explained (as with a sacred, ancient text) in much literary detail, drawing out its full, inherent meaning; from exegesis

Zarathustra's handiwork!: the ancient Persian spiritual figure Zarathustra (Zoroaster), if not the inventor of the game of chess, was apparently at least an interpreter of its symbolism. (It is said that Persians attributed the game to India.) Poetically, one might esteem Zarathustra the game's inventor. Like his teachings, the sport of chess deals in sharp, dualistic distinctions, pitting light against dark.

the road to Shu: Tang Dynasty Chinese poet Li Bai (or Li Po) wrote an evocative ballad with the refrain The road to Shu is hard!

didn't Shams win again? -- alluding to the anecdote of Jelaluddin Rumi's chess-playing sessions with his spiritual mentor Shams-i-Tabriz (a tale recalled, for instance, in poet Francis Brabazon's magnum opus, Stay With God (1958)). The story goes, Rumi exclaimed (when losing), "I've lost yet again!" "No, this time," replied his master, "you've won," an utterance which (one might say) sparked or marked the sudden (and thereafter, continuous) experience of God-realization in Rumi.

ghazal

With the fresh day   old stories start anew
in a hushed way   old stories start anew

the chessboard but allows   so many moves
in the meshed play   old stories start anew

your bishop for my knight?   it's bearable
in the ashtray   old stories start anew

with each dawn   time's lost?   opportunities
rarely rush   hey   old stories start anew

I've survived   deathly skirmishes   barely
now your touche   old stories start anew

I've yet to get the hang of things   maybe
it's a wash day?   old stories start anew

with such modest aims   Rapahel dithers?
in the crushed fray   old stories start anew

ghazal: "the facade of freedom"

What brought us   to this condition   is hard to say
who frames   each fated decision   is hard to say

the facade of freedom   waves   its alluring cape
dream-like?   or like a collision?   it's hard to say

do the atoms dance?   or weep?   lend me a candle!
would more light   change our position?   it's hard to say

in classical forms   every move   is measured
nameless!   is that for concision?   it's hard to say

as the doctor pronounced   his grim   diagnosis
what tipped the scale toward remission?   it's hard to say

none explain   who keeps dispatching antique postcards
if postmen have a suspicion   it's hard to say

as we bow   to kiss your feet   in infinite thought
what makes love   etch its incision?   it's hard to say

it all seemed a game!   even now   when we're losing
can pure love   realize its mission?   it's hard to say

on the chessboard   of my existence   only you
can foresee all   such an ocean   is hard to say

we don't vanish   though we long for   nonexistence
what's the point   of the mortician?   it's hard to say

every day brings   fresh pictures   of the beloved
can a postcard   serve for admission?   it's hard to say

admit that you love me!   although you seem cruel
can I extract   recognition?   it's hard to say

what we find   begs explanation   but what story
lends the world   perfect definition?   it's hard to say

the looking-glass of my mind   resolves to see you
can sheer hope   aim with precision?   it's hard to say

revolution of the globe   is it transient
or sans end?   how this division?   it's hard to say

what if Raphael   should become   a real poet?
can blind men   open bright vision?   it's hard to say

ghazal: "strategy? none known"

I was sent to hoe the field   of relentless experiment
I have yet to show the yield   of relentless experiment

unfazed with clearing the slate   we cultivate pentimenti
paintings deep-toned are congealed   in relentless experiment

fated misstarts (one might allow)?   favored pawns expendable
strategy? none known (concealed)   save relentless experiment

does each blossom bear disillusion   as its ultimate fruit?
bright of face   let nerves grow steeled   in relentless experiment

there is naught but striving coursing through   the conceit of my veins
I'm an apple cored and pealed   by relentless experiment

were the aim of the exercise   but to show a sporting smile?
is the spirit thus annealed   by relentless experiment?

alike life   at length the art displays how playing gets fruitful
shuffled cards are cut and dealed   in relentless experiment

pavement poetry has latitude   for the farthest free-throw
open hearts find lips unsealed   in relentless experiment

time's rough traffic   leaves little spaces free   for reflective thought
yet unspoiled (still unspealed)   for relentless experiment

to seek means of life in art   were a dicey enterprise
most grow threadbare (some well-heeled)   for relentless experiment

you'll know that I've met my match   when the candle weeps till morning
and the chapel bells have pealed   for relentless experiment

many wounds are sustained in battle   casualties are normal
hearts are slaughtered   dazed   or healed   in relentless experiment

thoughts recorded in antiquity   grew fleetingly lucid
when the film-like scroll unreeled   in relentless experiment

lawful wheels turn   is the universe   inflexible clockwork?
codes are scrawled   old laws repealed   in relentless experiment

some discover home past world's extreme   circularity
sends the pilgrim far afield   in relentless experiment

Raphael would admit to nautical errors readily
if unmoored he's not unkeeled   by relentless experiment

ghazal: "each atom and breath"

The significance of a life   if hard to find
                                                      when called into question
the whole tangled-up ball of yarn   might yet unwind
                                                      when called into question

in a veil of mist remains   the reason why
                                                the drama proved tragic
or comedically toned   or both of these combined
                                                when called into question

if the error were mine   repentance wasn't lacking
                                                                while if the reason
lay deep in the script   could you please hit rewind
                                                when called into question?

there are limits to everything!   could you allow
                                                            the purpose of living?
do loquacious philosophers   turn mute and blind
                                                  when called into question?

one remembers the story   mainly in its drift
                                                                          so many details!
could each atom and breath convey   one loving mind
                                                      when called into question?

every morning sweet birds disclosed   the line that kept
                                                                    eluding my notebook
every evening pert stars returned   were they assigned
                                                        when called into question?

the old myths barely lingered   who could now explain
                                                              their signification?
under cypress and pine not one   late sage repined
                                                  when called into question

if the prison of life demands   a lengthy stay
                                                          or but a brief tenure
do they finally explain   why you were thus confined
                                                  when called into question?

every language is learned   by hearing daily sounds
                                                  perhaps it's the same here
could the terms of engagement   be cogently defined
                                                  when called into question?

although buses and cars wax lyric   I remain
                                                              a skeptical camper
are all campfire tales   comprised of tawdry twine
                                                  when called into question?

whether fast spin the wheel   or slow   is not the thing
                                                  that wrinkles my forehead
but what rankles me   is the absence of sure sign
                                                  when called into question

is the fabric of trust   thin gossamer or thick?
                                                          lives hinge on this issue
though I've yet to observe   life's ground gets undermined
                                                  when called into question

when the Buddha said emptiness   the Psalmist sang
                                                  my cup runneth over
isn't emptiness everything   words fail to find
                                                  when called into question?

the condition that Raphael   desired to place
                                                              was easy to locate
he was hoping to know a heart   completely kind
                                                when called into question

ghazal

[fragment]


Wherever we slumber   the day dawns   once again
or (nestled in shadow)   dismay dawns   once again

the way of the world   is not   the way of the heart
yet in the world's echo   a way dawns   once again

we scoured the margin of wilderness   what use?
it brought but the prospect   of clay dawns   once again

ghazal: "diplomacy's courtesy"

Responsibility must presume   a rational universe
though harboring   miracle or doom   a rational universe

what fine line exists between flexibility   and surrender?
who could gainsay how loss might fine-tune   a rational universe?

where you hold every card   we cherish diplomacy's courtesy
it's fools or inebriates who croon   "a rational universe!"

the more tortuous the slipknot   the more we're in awe of the art
philosophers but rarely buffoon   a rational universe

who flees from the sun takes a loony road   toward brilliance
night's contour necessitates a moon   a rational universe

we lately desire to think of you day and night   belovèd
December long contemplates June   a rational universe

no   Raphael isn't immune to the sway   of your decency
he delights in (like many a loon)   a rational universe

(ghazal fragment) "on my walk"

A thousand lines that I barely heard   accompanied me on my walk
a hundred signatures scrawled but blurred   accompanied me on my walk

was it the saunter of morn or eve?
                                                    toward where could such ambling stroll?
a slew of answers (yet scarce one word)   accompanied me on my walk

we went heading toward the beginning of things
                                                    after an endless spell
what at world's ending can't be deferred   accompanied me on my walk

was it the saunter of night or day?
                                                    just where might such pilgrimage end?
what spurned all question but silence spurred   accompanied me on my walk

ghazal: "in the umbral shadows"

Where is the border   between blue and green?
                                                        here in the umbral shadows
where is the ardor   between rue and spleen?
                                                        here in the umbral shadows
it's guru purnima in India
                                            moon mirror in sky   shines bright
where is the mortar   between true and keen?
                                                        here in the umbral shadows
the chirp of the bird is remedial?
                                                  the cough of the car concurs
where is the ember   between has and been?
                                                        here in the umbral shadows
the clashing of schools   if demonstrative
                                            suggests less sense than dolor
doling out tinder   to the evergreen
                                                        here in the umbral shadows
when Raphael's stymied   lend him my shawl
                                            direct him to watch the stream
where is the letter   between world and dream?
                                                        here in the umbral shadows


==== === ===== === ====


[The 1st sentence of this poem's 1st line is borrowed from Ron Silliman's Sunset Debris (appearing in Parmentier, vol. 17, no. 2, June 2008)]

(next morning) ps: this started as a rubai (quatrain), then inched its way to being a ghazal.

ghazal: "final chips"

Are you serious?   I must steal from you   the secret of how to love you?
once pocketed   I might reveal to you   the secret of how to love you

we teeter at edge of absurd designs!   the river a'flood with puzzles
float down   hearing my lone appeal to you   the secret of how to love you

in a gamble that none but you and I would recognize   at this table
final chips await (spin the wheel will you?)   the secret of how to love you

blithe years had passed   we began every sentence blindly   always uncertain
what card quiet hands might yet deal   knew you the secret of how to love you?

illusions ran deep   dim narratives curl & wind out of nightlong dreamstuff
fogged mirrors obscuring what's real   who knew the secret of how to love you?

who dine on despair remain circumspect   what rule of the game mightn't shift?
the more knots undone   the less we'll undo the secret of how to love you

who pray bow resigned who dream lie supine   who imagine ponder clouddrift
stray traces of orange or teal   imbue the secret   of how to love you

the world forgot poetry almost   would we need to reinvent the wheel?
dark language   alike woe & weal   hides too   the secret of how to love you

wave on darkling wave   incessant   fierce   oceanic currents grown fearsome
one offers both sail and keel to you   the secret of how to love you

would Raphael beg like a vagabond?   his notion wasn't to wander
his poetry shows how I feel for you   the secret of how to love you

a perhaps gnomicly buddhistic rubai

I can't quite distinguish   what is called me   from what is called you
please extract in English   what is called me   from what is called you
if tickled pink by the porcupine   of rhetorical death
who'd need to extinguish   what is called me   from what is called you?

ghazal: "these summer days"

Who're chastened will keep   this conversation   just between you and I
we're facing a deep   disintegration   just between you and I

light rain falls gently these summer days   long pool a'flutter with wind
we're viewing no cheap   poor imitation   just between you and I

where nebulous work   oppresses the heart   one hopes to push on through
laid flat by great time's   steep implication   just between you and I

child-like   we should love to unravel   what makes the big clock tick!
half-crazed to unwind   such information   just between you and I

what were you seeking? where fled your purpose?   everything drifts in flux
we're drawn to maintain   a slack expectation   just between you and I

at the Guanyin Temple   north of Beijing   pilgrims and tourists stroll
who straggle notice   her indication   just between you and I

sharing cigars at a lavish dinner   talk turns lively and loud
I fail to follow   fate's dissertation   just between you and I

people mention   the Sichuan earthquake   9.6 it attained
things pique surprise   or wreak devastation   just between you and I

in the broader gamble   my small wagers   turn pale faces sunward
does loving   differ from disputation?   just between you and I

I was slated once to become a doctor   page from some lost tale
who rips the page   goes soon on vacation?   just between you and I

who arrive in life   all naked and lost   become more lost than found
while obscure remains   the destination   just between you and I

joyous cries if few   in this market-place   where misery's banal
quiet laughter brews   amid ululation   just between you and I

you resign yourself to wind and rain   you surrender to time's play
does Krishna smile on   your resignation?   just between you and I

you tour the globe   but not as a tourist   atoms twirl as they must
Columbus loathes circumnavigation   just between you and I

born in the west   we abide in the east   if all the world's a stage
this play plots many a motley station   just between you and I

alike trompe l'oeil   the scene is stunning   why should sages dub it
the poster-child of prevarication?   just between you and I

held the realm of dream merely dream   could illusion admit an aim?
philosophers   love pure complication   just between you and I

who fall into   the weave of your story   feel the tug of your yarn
hook line and sinker   aid meditation   just between you and I

each day we attend sweet sessions of thought   each night we drift in dream
who gently frames   the interrogation   just between you and I?

July grows warm   I depart the office   sitting a while outdoors
God hides from me   when's our assignation?   just between you and I

this luxury of perusing the stream   is human   chirps the bird
the stream of thought   relates its elation   just between you and I

many thoughts emerge   many thoughts subside   questions fade or linger
nor book nor scroll   exhaust the relation   just between you and I

here Raphael mimics   a wizened man   scrawling lines in China
he's squandered his life   and reputation   just between you and I


========

Beijing (July 5-7), Soho New Town
(begun while sitting inside Ai Weiwei's garden sculpture -- by the long pool)

The Guanyin Temple: more specifically, the Red Snail Temple (where, among other statuary, one finds a nice image of the "Guanyin with a thousand hands")

ghazal: "arabesques"

This universe seems   like your smile   overdetermined
each incident gleams   like your guile   overdetermined

who're determined   to reach your port   (soft eyes of Nirvana)
observe   how proves every hard mile   overdetermined

it barely matters what we do now   if we but love you
is homecoming's shore   from exile   overdetermined?

true poetry flows   as seamlessly   as a fleet river
where similes harbor a style   overdetermined

is the firing squad reluctant?   bullet-like kisses
transform me   I ring when you dial   "overdetermined"

the police of your eyes arrest me   crossing time's border
was my contraband   (your profile)   overdetermined?

"I smart still   recalling how hard you worked   to mislead me"
thus spake my heart's blind imbecile   overdetermined

they love you (in spite of good sense)   who crave absurd theatre
strange habits we culture   see file   "overdetermined"

for years Raphael   besotted with   mystical argot
admired arabesques   blooms his tile   overdetermined?


=====================

Here in Beijing (since May 13), I was happy to discover (in past day or so) that I can access Blogspot now! (unlike my general experience of it being blocked). Having trouble at the moment accessing Facebook (hopefully a passing phase), but nice to know the blog is, for the present, pulled into the realm of the censor-permitted infobahn ("Net Nanny" being, in some circles, the preferred term for this, i.e. vis-a-vis China's distinctive internet filtering customs).

During my recent months in India -- from return thereto (late October 2007) till coming back to Beijing (mid-May 2008) -- I was generally awash in ghazal-writing. Since landing in China, the habit has subsided to much rarer occasinalness.

Anyway, here's one latest ghazal -- partly spurred by finally getting into the somewhat popular (in highbrowish circles), but till now (when I've finally looked up the word) inevitably bewildering-to-me term noted, above, as the ghazal's radif (repeating item): "overdetermined."

"Overdetermined" has the problem (or let's just say, the characteristic) of meaning too many different things to too many different writers / thinkers / philosophers. But for purposes of ghazal poetry, this quality can perchance become more an asset than a hazard; or so my poem (perchance) posits / gambles / imagines. The word itself (amusingly) proves, in this connection, rather self-descriptive. At any rate, this concept of the "overdetermined" -- worried over (sequentially) by the likes of Freudians, Marxists, and other interesting philosophers of literature, language, culture, and dream -- seems to merit some place in the lexicon of the English ghazal; a place that could seem fairly destined (or even -- and ergo -- as it were, overdetermined).

/ / / / /

Too bad I'm not (at the moment) in a land with at-the-ready libraries & bookstores from which one might easily follow up some of the curious leads noted in the (above-linked) Wikipedia entry about this very interesting word; for instance, I've not (alas) as yet read I.A. Richards' famous book on literary ambiguity. I'm curious to grasp in what way he adapted the notion of the "overdetermined" within the framework of his ideas. Perhaps another day / moon / year I'll be situated to catch up on such.

All of this amounts to tangential annotation vis-a-vis the poem, of course.

yours always,
d.i.

trivial footnote: actually posted July 5 (not 4)

ghazal: "when the branch has a plan"

Write an infinite span   but will you reach   the essential?
who has guaranteed man   distills from speech   the essential?

the talking cure came with Freud   with Buddha the sitting cure
if the writing cure can work   it won't screech   the essential

whether writing sitting or talking   frankness grows subtle
self-deception would wan   with lying bleach   the essential

the darkness around   offers ground   for genuine growing
where the branch has a plan   anon the peach   proves essential

the blank slate   if ready for showtime   one could enjoy this
on the back of a fan   black brushes teach   the essential

the temptations of love and religion   few can escape
baldly lying   you stand and blithely preach   the essential

the rhetoric of the line differs   from that of the dot
even emptiness can   brightly beseech   the essential

divine dispensation considers   every condition
whether fire or pan   he shares with each   the essential

does the world spring from nothing?   nothing's nothing to sneeze at
neither water nor land   have taught the beach   the essential

the waves are called endless   maybe this sounds hyperbolic
in eternity's grand conceit   we touch the essential

another day dawns   the city growing familiar
when among humankind   consciousness meets   the essential

has Raphael's poetry struck   a quaint moving target?
now the heart   not the hand   begins to leech   the essential


========

written at Laxmi Nagar (Delhi)

ghazal: "gained in translation"

None dispute lots can be lost   but some can be gained in translation
certainly large looms the cost   yet strands are sustained in translation

stars find translation through earth   astrology charts out the method
bridges are built to be crossed   a journey explained in translation

love we translate as desire   a version at times one finds wanting
death gets recast as a ghost   aversion grows pained in translation

facts are translated as fiction   fictions return the good favor
lack you translate as a boast   my waxing has waned in translation

sculptors rely on lost wax   the fragile translates to the sturdy
memories pondered by Proust   large volumes unrein   in translation

the rendering dubbed "Raphael"   is that   an original work?
bread upon waters when cast   lost soul is regained in translation

=============

My first blog post in a long time! Generally these days I'm writing poetry in a physical notebook, by pen. But this ghazal has a long line, and the idea for it occurred while online (at an internet cafe) -- and so I've here returned to an old (former) custom of writing online, directly in the blog space.

Baroda afternoon
d.r.i.

=============

Notes:

"lost wax" (in couplet 5): -- a technical term related to a careful and interesting process (dating from the Renaissance if not perhaps earlier) in which a wax version of the sculptural work is lost, and a bronze (or other metallic) version is, in end, gained.

When I saw the title of one of the upcoming poetry presentations at the Prithvi Theatre (happening in Bombay, 17th Feb. -- I can't be there; but see: Gained in Translation), I immediately composed the first couplet, above; and from that flows the rest of the ghazal.