Ghazal Parade

March, as they say, “In like a lion, out like a lamb,” will be roiled in the tumult of change—seasons like continents overlapping. So, here’s the idea: let’s march through with Ghazals—Thrown like confetti—Plenty of ‘em—Risky bushels of ‘em!

Here then are some words borrowed from Jim Harrison on the genre:

Notes On The Ghazals

Poems are always better than a bloody turkey foot in the mailbox. Few would disagree. Robert Creeley once said, partly reconstituting Olson, “Form is never more than an extension of content.” True and sage. We choose what suits us and will not fairly wear what doesn’t fir. Don’t try to bury a horse in a human coffin, no matter how much you loved the horse….

The ghazal is an antique form dating from the thirteenth century and practiced by hundreds of poets since… I have not adhered to the strictness of metrics and structure of the ancient practitioners, with the exception of using a minimum of five couplets. The couplets are not related by reason or logic and their only continuity is made by metaphorical jump…

And since we are free to drift, lets pause on Walt Whitman's, "A Persian Lesson":

FOR his o'erarching and last lesson the greybeard sufi,
In the fresh scent of the morning in the open air,
On the slope of a teeming Persian rose-garden,
Under an ancient chestnut-tree wide spreading its branches,
Spoke to the young priests and students.

"Finally my children, to envelop each word, each part of the rest,
Allah is all, all,all - immanent in every life and object,
May-be at many and many-a-more removes - yet Allah, Allah, Allah is there.
"Has the estray wander'd far? Is the reason - why strangely hidden?
Would you sound below the restless ocean of the entire world?
Would you know the dissatisfaction? the urge and spur of every life;
The something never still'd - never entirely gone? the invisible need of every seed?

"It is the central urge in every atom,
(Often unconscious, often evil, downfallen,)
To return to its divine source and origin, however distant,
Latent the same in subject and in object, without one exception."

and twist

down broadway
over
to the Chicago Jazz Composers Collective II

om shanti shanti
shanti
thanks to the guide
to radiance drenched in
bathed in
awash in invitation
to louder strike open
hold my hand
don’t give it back
its better given over
to again
and laugh more
thanks
here
this is Kalyan Pathak
aka Jonny Bongo
with Jazz Mata
and the singer who’s song keeps changing her name
how many angles can ice skate on the head of a pin?
thank you
keep it
run off with it
cut the string
of the kite
thank you
but there’s so much
my fingers tugging
horse no fence no rider only blue horse
diamond eyes prancing evenly with will
thank you
go your way
you are without answering
held through bold turns
how happy
how liberty
dreaming the ember of a dream
take me through thunder
all
all empty
feel generous with your destruction
in fissures expansions splits
vines reaching opening and forgetting
and breathless how?
you spell breaker
slow and devouring
swing open channel
swing cool
shadow warm
sun close
rhythm and voice
look feel go
you as you are
away unlocked
with the key nonchalant
so brightly dancing palms pressed together
striking with bare feet
light in two
stunning golden and also
deep emerald
under wet leaves
i resisted i once
and i was angry
only it’s the wound
always open through
which comes to know
to be
made paper kite
thread tugging wind
while skipping coyly stones
over
cool water

Written at and inspired by:
Chicago Jazz Composers Collective
Febuary 25, 2007
Featured composers: Kalyan Pathak & Jazz Mata:
“Indian Classical Raga and American Jazz”

Don Tisch and Expansion Project played next;
but Pathak’s set was so rich and powerful that i left
so its resonance wouldn’t be diluted by any other sounds.

r