As long as I’ve been writing poetry there are only three forms that I wanted to become competent at—haiku, sonnet, and ghazals. Ghazal is by far the older form and the one I understood least, but now I’m ready to at least attempt to sink or swim. Here
THIRTEEN WAYS OF GLISTENING TO RAIN
Is this grief just an island precluded from rain
or waves on a sea which recycles rain?
“Ki ilhas tem catxupa, ma ka tem txeu txuba?
Where Cizé wakes island wide smiles as she hums rain.
At this angle of dawn & that density of dusk
yin & yang question when zero-sum reigns.
“If I were to cry out which angel would hear me”
—Necessary Angels may circle to drum rain.
If joy drizzles thru your hair to kiss your shoulder blades
don’t fail to sniff what some think of as plum rain.
As you shift your weight & pin a lover’s hands
—could sugarcane be pressed into a rum reign?
“With vice I hold the mic device, with force
I keep it away of course” one spits to overcome rein.
Do church bells tolling to carry atone—the way
Monk once sought to carry attune—outnumber rain?
In this plaza you pause to tissue your face
—a bluish guitar and its case to strum rain.
In “A Return To Our Usual Truancies”:
why does my Beloved go roadside & thumb rain?
As people pass with broken parchment for tongues
two ravens caw to bathe in a crumb rain.
Joel—please add how [17 + 8 + 92 + 110]
seems to atomically sum rain?
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