Sawatdee. I really enjoyed reading and writing in this Ghazal exchange. I enjoyed the freedom in writing them—not having to tell a specific story but seeing where the words would go. It was also nice to hone down thoughts into two lines. I agree with El Ad’s description of them as
“an experience or a revelation followed by a leap, leaving a mood”
and
“a reservoir for moments of surprise.”

I am honored to have participated. Here are my favorite lines.

HUMANISTA

I said what I needed to say
It was not what I wanted to hear myself say

The office pleads with me, begging me
Okay fine, I'll push your plastic buttons

Human nature is an invention of mankind, ever expansive
Ever notice how nature doesn't need excuses for murder

You shouldn't take pride in finishing something
That you took no pride in doing

Dear hope, do you mention me in your future plans?
I sometimes depend on you for a smile


VIKINGO

i never really had a truly spectacular peach
this whole fruit business is a pack of lies

i wrote and wrote... really taking a shit for the soul,
i hope i don't start commenting on myself.

the bark of the date palm is a crusty shield which
shelters a broken city drowning in baby's tears

a mexican just fixed our water purifier (machine thing)
oh how the tables have turned!

standing halfway in the calm blue river,
all of nature working together for silence.

EL ADVENT

the lake and the sky are in love
they share each other's thoughts

she said, “they made fun of me”
“death,” he said, “does make us feel stupid”

we’d married, divorced, mended; had children, sighs, tears,
smiles, disputes—then none! all before she even wrote back

worms sleeping in the garden
angels float on Chicago’s appetite

where i am from is where i am
its a circle i never quite fit inside

eL ViKiNGo'S aLL-STar SeLLeCTioNS

for a long time i held the ghazal in confusion... in The Shape of the Journey by Jim Harrison there are many pages of his ghazals that i often read off and on just skipping around. when i look in other places (the space aged intranet) i get alot of mumbo jumbo and rules about meter, line matching, and so much more... for me a ghazal is observing... even if you don't know that you are in the act of observing... & much like rz stated: surprise. each line to me seems to be its own poem and can take the reader on journey in just two line bitties.

and now... el vik's all-star selections:

from the voice of el aventurero:

i can't rewind the news. did they say
they found a way to get the blood out?

tell me the name of that building, and that one, wonderful,
can we go inside, towards the echo of it being built

clocks keep their faces and hands behind glass
before that there had been too many robberies

i chewed on window sills as a child, it was a class in school
instead of recess, where they put the true believers

my heart is useless
unless it's making love

from the voice of la haba lima:

The world clicks around the sidestreets in new heels.
She shakes her way into another week.

mischief sleeps without underwear beneath a black comforter
another hometown rejects its prophet

i live in a puzzle and God
dropped some of the pieces on his oriental carpet

because i'm halfway across the world for a sleepless night
thinking about my tax money (going towards that)

There are gym shoes, taxis, and staplers in every color.
The rainbow left its lover in the bathtub smoking cloves.

from the voice of humanista:

The office pleads with me, begging me
Okay fine, I'll push your plastic buttons

As the day moped on we mingled body parts under slick sheets
We couldn't hear the rain but could feel it was there

Human nature is an invention of mankind, ever expansive
Ever notice how nature doesn't need excuses for murder

When your feet get tired, your back stiff, and your mind bogged
you will do anything, i.e.: spend $20 on a sleepy pasta

I want to move to another continent
Where everyone I meet will know something I don't

ghaZaleRy

I got an email this morning from Chivo
“Hey brother could you tell me a bit about this Ghazal???”


I sent him what Harrison said on the subject . For me ghazals became a reservoir for concentrated moments or surprise


They have been at times intimate and at others universal
Its easier for me to say what is not a ghazal


This is not a ghazal. Because I don’t think they are explanations
but an experience or a revelation followed by a leap, leaving a mood


Vik suggested a choosing of some of our favorite lines over the month
Picking just five couplets was difficult out of multiple ghazals


This has been lots of fun. And I would be into trying out other
short forms, inside or outside of poetry

El V

i overheard a sick bird complaining to a friend about the end
and how even in the next life he'll have to have wings.


“hurry up and cook the eggs!” exclaimed a red faced Maria
“i can’t bear the thought of them turning into chickens.”


riding on the elevated train, it's circular here
you can never get to where you weren't.


bright lights, clean stores, unbearable traffic...
what are all these dropped ceilings hiding?

i wear my father like a mask,
Gilbert & Sullivan will never know it's me!


La H.L

"Keep watch, don't sleep tonight," he cries to me.
I just want to fall asleep in your lap.


Another mystery sprawls out on the lazy boy.
She flips the channels and ignores our questions.


There are gym shoes, taxis, and staplers in every color.
The rainbow left its lover in the bathtub smoking cloves.


all lotion is whitening lotion. all models are white.
drink milk while you're pregnant and you will get white babies.

because all the way out here
i've got the american and they've got the dream (still)


El H

Humanista
do these things have to be two line bitties?


If you never spoke out of turn or unpreparedly,
How could you be ready when the proper time comes?


What if the trees decided not to grow leafs this year?
Who would be the first to notice?


In the wee hours, when I whispered of my lazy secret
You laid there, stroking my arm, and admitted you too loved the snooze button

I want to move to another continent
Where everyone I meet will know something I don't

Plus one from El moi

i woke-up after having someone else’s dreams. I think they died
or were trying to hide it.

there was a woman’s shoe left on an atoll, a story of a white biplane
in a lake. kites vanishing in the sun

rain is so simple, shaped by direction, a single ambition, circulation
a depth stars can not penetrate

a bus door opened as I walked by. a recording drifted out; next stop: “Naraganset.”
her hair would smell of the sea there. we’d meet clamming, and would dance by a fire

oars break. night devours our limbs. bones sink. track was laid to the edge
of the water. some turned back and tidied up the depot. others began to row

god was easy to kill. America on the other hand
has got a chest full of butterflies

cRedoughZalismo

reading struck blow by television in cubist slow-mo replay
Oswald fires from the book depository


there were people talking about the gutter again, trying to explain laughter
gutters outnumber streets two to one, unless it floods


i chewed on window sills as a child, it was a class in school
instead of recess, where they put the true believers


ever since they came out with progress there has been someone to say
“step-right-up, step right-up, hope found in bed with vanity”


there is nowhere to go when it rains, just places to stay
i dream of bigger cities, made large before the automobile


today… my… i remember… grandpa’s funeral, when he turned into a story teller who’d only ever dropped hints. his hat me wear some again later

eL ViKiNGo'S 19th NeRVouS GHaZaL

woke up with an apple and some yogurt,
what will i do to end suffering today?

standing halfway in the calm blue river,
all of nature working together for silence.

i wear my father like a mask,
Gilbert & Sullivan will never know it's me!

there is a mark on my ankle from a chain
i wore on an island, i wish i was there again.

i heard her laughing today, i rushed to see her
but she was already 11 hours ahead of me.

ANOTHER VOICE GHAZALED!!!!!

Fireworks explode in the sky next to my head, off the bluff
She led him to a comfortable couch, past the trees, past the farm

The life of a blue whale is at least 80 years
Until the 35 Remington is brought out from behind the bar

He went to the shore on the eve of his death
The night yields angels that will make you sad

A place to lay his head, and drift off, into his eternal sleep
Like our brother the bear, going off away, deep into the woods

I pulled him from the daffodils, that Sunday morning, to find his peace
More than a nephew, a brother to share, your blood and sorrow

The 4th day in July found me lying on my couch
Listening to the hundred highways that I would travel for the first time

With all my strength, I couldn’t move my nephew while he was alive
Yet now I carry his ashes, in but one of my arms

--HAWK

enRichter long grain ghaZalmati

Love and Death hasn’t come in yet. in the mean time, i can't find

a good Godot. last night watched Sleeper before bed



i cooked with a pepper saved in the freezer

since november. i don’t know how i had ice




to be the last of the great sailing ships

is never as exciting as to be the first



she had heard it was nice earlier. i lied and said yes. then she ahh-d

when i described how the fog came in and swallowed the buildings



millions can stare at wood paneling and see the shape of post

industrial conspiracies. how nice. so many finished basements

adminstrative announcement III

"...do these things have to be two line bitties?"

We will soon be wrapping up the March of ghazals.

So, why don’t we for the last of the month, around the

end of the week, post what, after doing them, we have

found the ghazal to be?

el aventurero

ghaZalzal gha'moRe

seen a red bird in a tree, song of two longs and seven shorts, morse code
for cardinal, which is code for spring, which is code for i'm a bird


i go to the doctor for pills as getting insurance
just long enough for the plates



Jesus is rising with the gas prices
the syntax is being debated



the weather is tugging on my zipper to remove my skin and blow
across the coals. and it doesn’t care if i’ve been faithful



cutting a tree and counting the rings is proof
my heart began with a cannonball



the pen i found with you after the thaw
ran out of ink today on the word ‘how’

a suggestion... not a ghazal

* a warm weather conference has been suggested

the hawk will be in pittsburgh shooting a show for the boob tube roughly
April thru June

just planting a bug... maybe we could meet in pittsburgh late may or early june

-vko

p.s. more ghazals are coming

Ghazalapy

The voice cries soulfully over the radio
I love, I love, I love

I want to move to another continent
Where everyone I meet will know something I don't

How much do you really care?
Can you care more than that?

I said what I needed to say
It was not what I wanted to hear myself say

Every day is leaf grown on the tree of life
Fall turns to winter at sometime too

Humanista

ghaZalaphabet soup

2008, out of Iraq… some dreams aren’t worth hitting the snooze 4
more years... i can see it now: Ira8


today ‘s like a dog’s nose. fetch!
follow the turquoise bicycle into the basement


i am reading Bovary, and that is to be said
without sneezing. the world is hollow


don’t call me at this number. tell them at the switchboard you want to talk
to the locksmith and they will put you through to my house in the Keys


when i think about her
that’s another lost bookmark

Ghazalthai ๕ "Why?"

because distraction's been forced upon me
(by movies made for the a.d.d.)

because someone has the audacity to call this mess tri-seasonal
hot, hotter, and hottest

because all the way out here
i've got the american and they've got the dream (still)

because i'm halfway across the world for a sleepless night
thinking about my tax money (going towards that)

because because because, said woody
(good bye good bye good bye)

18... now ghazal is ready to be drafted {eL ViKiNGo does not support the war or the troops}

(distant) sinking all around her mind and body
with the touch of my hands to keyboard.

i knew a kid who got trapped in books,
last i heard he was due for parole in 2012.

roger hayes blows fire from his fingertips,
1000 screams trapped in his paintings.

bright lights, clean stores, unbearable traffic...
what are all these dropped ceilings hiding?

people walked by dogs and governed by babies
why aren't all our flags up side down

is that a ghaZal or R u just happy to c me

the bus driver acts like he can’t fit. but he, inching forward,
does. the Straights of Gibraltar. give me a cigarette already


in the dim where candles tickle reflexes run turnstiles over agility
and finger prints on the glass were meant to bruise flowers


he was trying to cut finely grab-it-all on the lane
dancin’ over seams, bright glare, and buzz rattle


i’d like to be more like you Woody Allen, your health,
balding, without skill at apology, women changing into flats


O devil dervish you’re obliterated i hit the smart bomb
one life to live. can't we negotiate


i got a letter from my pen-pal in Spain who lives in the mountains
as a child she played in Lorca's garden before it was a museum


...&

i saw a dumpster filled with Waterloo
one's trash is another's merchandise

Seventeen G-zals on the !st day of Spring (Vik)

i'm in a foreign land with Cash flipping me
the bird, i am my brother's keeper.

yesterday i bent two rail ties into a bow,
now he's really gonna have to wait.

last night the clouds pissed on the parade,
now all the lil' indians are changing clothes.

dr. Ice was blacklisted back when they did
that, he listened to his heart and brain.

Napoleon just looks at me with loving eyes,
we'll all have our day at Waterloo.

a ghalZalizall

life, liberty and moving boxes. that came to me in a dream
over and over until i woke up repeating it


my open heart ache satellite has got a chameleon crew
and dresses up for its own holidays


who’s really in there i want to ask my low calorie diet plan
where ever it went, with the money and the french fries


not walking in snow people, Albuquerque address
to whom I am “resident” your paper is no good for airplanes


i am a man without a season. its wet, heavy, and dark,
like the inside of a vacuum cleaner in the boiler room of a steamer tug

Hello theRererere GhaZalalalalalal.

i can't rewind the news. did they say
they found a way to get the blood out?


this is baseball weather, out of the park
but i'm thankless. it's how it should always be


indolent; suggests work is close to pain
go ahead, wear yourself out, name calling


there is nothing to nothing about. coupons,
road construction, carnations, water on fire


i agree with you. the politic-y talk sounds like a...ah…a
commercial break, back to the ah... after a... stick around


nice to meet you too, let's keep busy
until it gets dark then screw

Vikingo's Sweet 16 {Ghazaltology}

pull the collar close and breath through
cold teeth, the sun is a liar.

i can't keep all this information straight,
there's a disc in my drive and my back.

she unleashed the fury of her colors,
and i wished hard that i was crayola.

i dreamed i was on an island with palms,
now all i want is coconut cream pies.

ants crawl all over a green leaf in spring,
god made tools for monkeys & water on mars.

ghazalthai ๔

i live in a puzzle and God
dropped some of the pieces on his oriental carpet

months are long days and years are summer minutes
in michigan. just one goddamn cigarrette, please.

i gotta find that button that changes my laptop to thainglish
i gotta find that button in my own brain

all lotion is whitening lotion. all models are white.
drink milk while you're pregnant and you will get white babies.

terror. terrific. terrible. territory.
your ancestors is complicate!

wanted ghaZalista

bright dirty sun
bright dirty


where people are
most


the vodka pint
passed till M-T


matter
matters


sleeping backwards
awake forgetting

A slight case of the Ghazaldays

Someone said 'If you accomplish your goals, they weren't big enough'
Hey, buddy, you ever hear of early retirement?

The office pleads with me, begging me
Okay fine, I'll push your plastic buttons

I try to keep things civil, professional even
But as I sit here there is animal thirsting inside of me

What if the trees decided not to grow leafs this year?
Who would be the first to notice?

In the wee hours, when I whispered of my lazy secret
You laid there, stroking my arm, and admitted you too loved the snooze button

Humming-ista

Beware the Ides of Vikingo on the 15th of Ghazal

watching a green fern grow and thrive,
roots all tangled in a jar for kosher pickles

thought about the feel of skin under fingertips,
it's almost light now and the cars are heading home

truth wore a mask & held a red, white & blue cross,
i decided honesty was better but cost more $$$$$

eyes closed and stretched flat in the middle of a
lake, don't know how but i've learned to float

arms wrists & ankles twisted all together in love,
all the sirens and alarms sound like music

ghaZal meRidian

it used to be if i sat very still, time would not move
then the notices for jury duty stopped coming too


the phone cord got tangled all around. no one
to hit or throw things at, or even pry for a kiss


the freighters have started moving again
yesterday made one, today makes two


he could get 75 years for disrespecting a Thai photo
grapher. Bhumibol, may dead fish rain upon you!


Richard they are talking about Chicago now: how
important it was before you left and wrote haikus

King Louis the 14th had nothing on Vikingo's Ghazals

"well jimmy played harmonica in the pub where
i was born," everyone is Irish tomorrow

visited a tea house where people read on stage
while playing music... curly's wife had red hair

i've learned a good many things over the years,
firstly, don't throw up on your friends

saw a rainbow while riding shotgun in a car,
the pot of gold sat squarely in my lap

told my girl that i loved her and someone
overheard... embarrassment is just silly

the ghaZalts are Running

“The Irish saved civilization”
“Aye, so they are blaming us for that too, are they?”


if the sea were the heart, and tides its pulse, and if the mind
were the wind and gusts its thoughts, my navel is the bath tub


the river changes directions between day and night between dark
and light, and in a few hours we’ll have drown dizzy overwhelmed


for luck, throw women over one shoulder
and men over the other, salt accordingly


these are some of the hottest days of the year i swear
outside can’t keep up with the alligators

ghaZalniga cut the coRpus callosum

i am here, my idol the sun,
is eight and a half minutes behind


she blew the bridge, he drained the water
over the earth and pillows they reigned


its all about the tortoise and the hare
slow and steady wins the race


he wants to ask one hundred and fifty women what is love
while he runs away from one, a Greek named Olga


i sighed to imagine the couple masturbating
each other from their wheelchairs

13th Clever title for a Vikingo "Ghuzzle"

i remember eating dinner with the family, 6 sharp,
the phone would ring and dad would bellow: "buzz off!"

perspective can really shift and shuffle like waves,
i stepped out of my skull and found a new way to love

bright outside... i can tell by looking at this screen,
reflected from a sign: "we buy ugly houses"

shift to the right, shift to the left, up down spin...
can't hear the awful lyrics when i'm just shakin it

a mexican just fixed our water purifier machine thing
oh how the tables have turned!

A Ghazaling We Will Go

Clever titles sometimes drop me at such a place that progress cannot be made
I stand at the foot of the Yellow Brick and cannot hop the fist skip

As the day moped on we mingled body parts under slick sheets
We couldn't hear the rain but could feel it was there

Guilt eats at my stomach like nervousness's little brother
My sticky hand covered in bark and dirt after leaving the honeycomb empty

Telling someone they are not smart and need to be smarter doesn't have any positive effect
Come on, you're smarter than that

You shouldn't take pride in finishing something
That you took no pride in doing

The filthy Humanista

the 12 tribes of Ghazalestine {eL ViKiNGo}

carried away from a small patch of earth,
we learn to hate... we learn to be violent...

let the rain collect for a while on my head,
it's unusually warm for this time of year

i caught a moth in the palm of my hand,
does that mean that i possess light?

shoulder low, i burst through the wall!
did someone call for kool-aid?

i found her in each tap of the keyboard,
always finding a new rhythm

mad, bad, and dangeRous to ghaZal

i'd held my anger under so it couldn’t breathe. water went cloudy. bottom
chocked without complaint. and the surface reflected strangers before me


everyone is not everyone anymore, but byronic flesh lashed to
byronic bones. animated torches. flames of green leaves.


she said she should be doing work but was reading “this instead”
“this” was poetry. people…I mean, random people with poetry?


blue water, blue sky: blue eyes. then clouds, ice, and blinking,
blinking buoyant days. flash bulbs creasing shadows.


in a dream, so much volume came out of my throat
that a motorcycle’s get away went unheard

ghazal 11 vikingo

all the air is clogged by sunshine and smiles,
i overheard two birds plotting my destruction

i longed for her hips and that small stretch of
fabric, i couldn't concentrate on moving pawns

the flowers were streaked with rain and dirt,
they didn't realize that they were born in Toledo

sthkt, sthkt, sthkt... no more scratchy blues,
someone turn the album over please

the fish soup was quickly dispatched
some escaped onto a corner of my shirt

ghaZalistoRy

i see the dirt on the top of my shoes
when my posture is bent under heavy thoughts

now, there's no death penalty in Sepharad except for bulls. my
family ran during the Inquisition marked with the name of Allah

Leonardo's thoughts were written upstream:
evom ton seod ti ,nus eht”

Lindbergh/America: great courage, ransom for a dead baby,
photo-op with murderers, machine hung from a ceiling

on the grass, on the debris from the great fire
the symphony plays in Frank Gehry's pavilion

wolveR-ghazaleZ-ine

red wine pouring out the bottle, sitting backwards
on the train, campfire seen through the glass


i learned how to read the G’s: gauges—
properly, expertly, three quarters empty


a rock floated by the grieving side
of the island on a slab of ice


there are cries of intolerance!
when foreigners no speaka da guiltish


the blind man came to watch thoughts grow into wishes
and now memory is tended by volunteer in a glass house

Ghazal X from the desk of the Royal Vikingo Consulate General

the bark of the date palm is a crusty shield which
shelters a broken city drowning in baby's tears

the sun was a shy mermaid peering through
the icy surface of clouds... unrequited

he squeezed so much out of that damn bean
that eventually the brown water never worked

spent all night with gauges measuring love and hate,
i should know (i am an expert) how to treat people

such a wonderous landscape around every turn with
my eyes kissing the sensual lips of flowers

el vkng's ninth ghazal plus a bonus haiku

my heart is an enormous field of cactuses
for moisture i tapped one of the many cacti

kisses, waves, & tears on the JC Lodge
she floated away today

he shifted his thin ass on the sleek devan,
this store oughta be called the dumpster

eyes heavy from all the manufactured
energy, i rest my head at casa de petra

i used to be described by adults as ornry,
these days, i'm not bothered by much

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

sweat halos my head
as neruda weeps saintly
all the leaves have thawed

Ghazal is a needy bastard

From now on I will look at no advertisement, none
Food's only representation should be a fork and knife

I'm glad Bush shuts his mouth about Chavez
How can we talk, everyone breaks eggs in omelette making

There are places on this earth where thousands of square miles are covered in seagrass
This place is call Sharks Bay and it is in Australia

It has been harder and harder to leave my bed in the mornings
Maybe I suffer from some kind of disease

If you never spoke out of turn or unpreparedly,
How could you be ready when the proper time comes?

Humani-and-the-mirror

313ghazalacallRZ

where i am from is where i am
its a circle i never quite fit inside


i draw hope with a heart and over the i
in your name. over and over down the page


Bad Love Vol. Next: meekness, her weakness, her weapon
she bottomless hunger hangs limp from the last of his smile


we are flesh. we are builders. who
laid tracks over our temples, our toes?


Carlos has landed in Cali today and no longer needs
the worn foto he kept like a map to a private treasure

ghaZoomeRal

workers, lovers, fiends, surging up the stairs. eager. competent
from the 921 at 7:34. sunlight chopping sunlight steps


a friend, yes, the kind that could show up
in a dream. but not the kind you could tell



my credit card keeps my hand warm
so red it glows



tell me the name of that building, and that one, wonderful,
can we go inside, towards the echo of it being built



amore ad ovum sino quo proctor hoc
co-co-ri-co poulet documentento

El viKingo... an eight-time ghazalionare

she had sand... character... beauty... grace...
but she only ever wanted to be a star

wires were crossed under the indian ocean
those waves took back my soul

holiday trappings lingering way too long,
i cornered her under the Arbor Day mistletoe

two colombian sisters, one like coffee the other
like cocaine... both keep me up at night

i went pocket fishing again the other night
why is it so easy to steal from yourself

ghazalthai ๒

mirror shard mosaics wink from temples
lots of something for the man who worshipped nothing

minimal centimeters measure her cherry tree lips and ivory arms
please consider these girls’ bones when making love to them

mischief sleeps without underwear beneath a black comforter
another hometown rejects its prophet

mutt bitches fight over mango peels
lungs adapt to mountain air

mirrors sway in white-sand hammocks sipping rum
narcissus learns to meditate

out in the ghaZalespheRe

i hope to be healthy, wealthy and wise
and gentle… somehow gentle too


O my America, 1000 new perfumes
same stench. vomit in your shoes


yesterday—warm. last night—blank. today—waiting
the sky wrapped as a pharaoh of plundered grave


clocks keep their faces and hands behind glass
before that there had been too many robberies


she said, “they made fun of me”
“death,” he said, “does make us feel stupid”


the moon is too primitive a paradise for wind
Baudrillard will never always have died

in a bar... El vik still remebers SEVEN

all the excuses have been used up
i love you all the same

love is a hammer i never used to swing
nails have always wondered why

bring another gin to the table
Bond thought vodka made martinis

when her skirt hid her thighs from light
shame was something taught not found

the captain had a gulliver-sized head
my brain never questioned God

r-27°F with 100% chance of Ghazal-z

recycling great. but watch the salesmen
yesterday will be at tomorrow’s prices


i boasted they teach trapeze over there. “i’d love to learn trapeze,”
she sighed. but to me its like what plugra tells you about a grocery store


Plato is jealous that truth is not persuasive by itself
long time jealous now. woof, woof. apple falls on head


they still ate horse meat at Harvard in the 70’s
the glue factory. money stuck to ideas


let’s make a board game called Casa Real, meaning: royal
in Spanish, real in English. it would be like strip poker

Ghazaltar... eL ViKiNGo's sixth cents

in a fever i saw the father, son, and the holy ghost
i wish i had prepared a cake a pie or something.

a wise afghani told me to melt myself like snow
where did all this dirt come from

i never really had a truly spectacular peach
this whole fruit business is a pack of lies

a wise jew told me to love all the world
where did all this trouble come from

i never climbed a mountain because it was there
my head is rarely in the clouds

Ghazaling Good for Teeth, Friars

Okay so this guy
He gets stranded in this nowheres town

The families all go on like nothings changed, nothings happened
But each ones got like a secret hatred of one another

They kiss and the husband comes in
Four years later they'e both divoriced, he's tryin to find her

It's an all out chase scene
Helicopter, trucks, high speed, all that shit

Turns out she was the one who was hiding it
Three years later they're in the tropics

Humanista

ghaZalr

sega krad wen a fo nwad eht no

stnemidnoc ylno dna .yrgnuh .m.a eerht

we will overcome!
look at naval oranges

wicker basket smelling of rain water
no handles, full of bricks


i have a limousine so big that to turn the key
would drain the world of its gasoline


the radiator sounds like a wounded raft. to beat
the sea at its own game i open the window


worms sleeping in the garden
angels float on Chicago’s appetite

eL ViK's Ghazalbany (5-timer club)

sir! yes sir! i've checked my gun and my pack
now you can't make me murder

butter, garlic, onions, peppers, pork, & cumin
stir over fire and serve to the righteous

i walked on the water till it turned to wine
now i'm buried next to fishes

her eyes weren't as blue as the sky but
surely they were much wider

i bit and scratched my way to the bottom of
the glass, better send for reinforcements

La Haba ๑

The world clicks around the sidestreets in new heels.
She shakes her way into another week.

The sky blurs into the concrete forest.
I want and need and need and want. And want. and Need.

Another mystery sprawls out on the lazy boy.
She flips the channels and ignores our questions.

A fish, a cat, a duck, and a guitar: farang curiosity .
Where does Mexico find the time to dance?

There are gym shoes, taxis, and staplers in every color.
The rainbow left its lover in the bathtub smoking cloves.

ghazalthrall rz

the wind pushes away the sun and the waves break

through the building’s lengthening blue shadow

“without light,” he wrote, “the world would be flat.”

that's not right. he said, "shadows"

an epic seen all at once

would be but a single point

mirrors have no memory

until they’re broken

my heart is useless

unless its making love

El V's 4th time Ghazal (the price of Ghazaline has risen to 2.55 a gallon)

the bridge buckled and splintered covered with
bandaids, a soul is not required to feel pain.

the only thing we really caught was a hangover
but that one little fish just flipped and flopped.

i was so caught up in my own cleverness that
all the bills were late. extra fees ain't clever.

the sun and the moon really had a tussle this
morning, i just hid under the covers till it passed.

i wrote and wrote... really taking a shit for the soul,
i hope i don't start commenting on myself.

Oh, Ghazal it...

Six A.M. brown and white Minni in Viking Purple as the Sun shrugs off its moon
Six P.M. baby in my arms, pink and peach, laughing til I can't breathe

He went back to Texas a little less cowboy, a little more woman
She went to Oregon in a ten gallon hat with a pint of beer and her back teeth floating

Human nature is an invention of mankind, ever expansive
Ever notice how nature doesn't need excuses for murder

I lull myself into a concentrated mind of disillusionment
Excited to sleep

Dear hope, do you mention me in your future plans?
I sometimes depend on you for a smile

-Human

ghazalrz

V
the roofs shone silver and the tops of wings flashed white
outside came in today and then shied away


i know that trees warm each other even under
the snow. that’s how i want to be with you


sunlight eased up the windows in one long exhalation
copper in golden blossom, then flames drained amber away


we’d married, divorced, mended; had children, sighs, tears,
smiles, disputes—then none! all before she even wrote back


moon
are you my friend?


VI

he thought of stories and poems as people with personalities

and it was his father who started filling his room with friends

the bear scat was fresh. they only had a few apples.

they portaged over the sand bar when the moon rose

the Mandans would cut off finger tips

as a display of grief. i was born a crab

the words that fall into place are not to hold

back water, but swim in a common sea

my street could play the game of collecting license plates

from other states. are they still made by inmates?

La Haba Ghazal

The salaa outside is under repair
I hope to perfect rest before he comes.

Kreuntep a'ha nakorn means "pure city."
We watch the air and wonder who to blame.

"Keep watch, don't sleep tonight," he cries to me.
I just want to fall asleep in your lap.

I shook hands with Muang Thai in August.
It's been August for over seven months.

Be on your guard; to doze off is to die.
Boredom's reserved for him who won't notice .

salaa (building for rest and meditation)
(Kreuntep is Bangkok and Muang Thai is Thailand)

Ah Minneapolis with a Frosting Ghazal

Okay, now, so, here I am- in some faux Las Vegas (very not Vegas) or vegetative

atmosphere in the middle of Minni, the city in the land of lakes
I've met two Somalis since I've landed, come here from Mogadishu, funny...
Have I met a Minnesotan? What am I here for?
I wrote a play which might, MIGHT be performed here tomorrow
(if not then I am here for nothing!)
The University gave me money to be, to represent them I guess, but the Somalis don't care
and I have no t-shirts or mugs to hand out. Here, in this "American Bistro" the bread is good and very Italian, the pasta- fusion, and everything is under priced and expensive.
When your feet get tired, your back stiff, and your mind bogged you will do anything, i.e.: spend $20 on a sleepy pasta, admit you are Taliban, give away your mother's tomato sauce recipe, etc dot dot dot
EVERYONE IS IN NEED OF A GOOD SALESMAN, everyone. If someone could sell me, oh! I am so valuable, a rarity, a real treasure- tomorrow I'll have to find cheaper grub.
I am now craving vegetables, I often do. This is mind and body meeting. Soul, virtue, spleen, spirit, reason, all meeting in one mouth, in the effort of the chewing, in the jaw tension- the mmm...

Stop bowing your head to me, I don't mind all the "Mr. Roth" stuff, but don't physically do it.

One life is not enough to assure, to be best-able.

(Old woman catches my eye in the mirror, she "says") You remind me of a boy I once knew. The town was small, quaint, pastoral American. You delivered newspapers. I was your last toss.

Humanista
do these things have to be two line bitties?

ghazalmanac 4z4

the wind is saying something, always with an H. could be
“who,” how,” or “why”; until it’s done we can’t be sure.


he moves as if to show her he’s become a man: a son
with his mother. stamp from the roll, thumb on envelope


in a dream the Mariner weaves
a tale of looking without love


“ice cream is like truth,” the fork said to the spoon
while the bent knife looked on


NAVLES: hand grenade in the potatoes, where am i from?
they think from France, blew it up in a park all gone

El Ghazal Vikingo the III

riding on the elevated train, it's circular here
you can never get to where you weren't.

hair clings to my neck, temples, & cheeks
i swear it wasn't going to rain today.

gone fishin! don't really know my pocket,
i can't believe that's what i did last night.

a red headed child gave me her last candy
make me to know what it is to serve others.

i had a black cat who died from the cancer
nobody cried but i heard bob dylan moan.

02MAR07: ghazalathon (r-3-z)

the lake and the sky are in love

they share each other's thoughts

Gavrilo*, if my President drove through Sarajevo

a turning circle would be enough

their voices were like water, buiwp, buiwp, into a copper well

which left the tent before I could drown

he’s a mouse named Herbert. she’s a goldfish named Claudia.

they lived in my imagination, and woulda met but for the cat

i always thought there was someplace better,

until i got here. and then you left

*Gavrilo Princip is the guy who helped Archduke Ferdinand abdicate

to be a ghazalnic (dos y dough) r-z

she looked like someone else from behind, wouldn’t of understood

my question about getting bit by a german sheppard

i’m going to invent a medical condition, something Minoan,

that will fit on a vase and be broken by a cure

when we were on the submarine everything was fine

its on the surface that the rain mattered

one plus one, again, equals infinity, its just

there’s nowhere to spend it

another miracle? hold my eyes open so I can dream while awake.

a ham sandwich has made me as sleepy as a can of tomatoes

ghazaloholic by r.z.

big fat drops of rain, thick snow sinking into the grass, lashing wind,
the sun erupts and then is smothered grey

take the elevator down, walk across the parking lot, look through the fence
and still not see the names on the stones, that much i can do from here

trees look like black coral, the planes- fish, the sea- grey
i can breath everywhere except in mirrors

we should float our pink lawn flamingos to Cuba as a gesture of turning over
our secrets. release them here and see if they go on their own

she had a black umbrella, told me she found it on the El. told her about mine,
from my father. and she said it sounded like a woman’s, cuz' a the colors.

Ghazal numero TWO from the viking

i’ve walked on these boards before, laughing, crying, singing
in the skin of beggars, liars, thieves, and priests.

the cap twisted off, that should have been enough of a clue
as all the wine spilled out like the blood of Christ on sinners.

“hurry up and cook the eggs!” exclaimed a red faced Maria
“i can’t bear the thought of them turning into chickens.”

i found a stain on an old shirt of mine (placed right over the heart)
i got that stain while riding with you... it won’t, it won’t wash out.

the pier was in a permanent state of drench, all the world crashed
into the wall and separated into the mist hitting my cheeks.

Administrative Announcement II

it was stated in a previous AA entry that to log in one must
use the new system by accessing losfriar@gmail.com then
the password... this is slightly wrong...
you must use losfriars@gmail.com and then the password.
hope this clears things up if they were ever murky.

v

...and so begins Ghazalapalooza!

drifts of ice chunks float like dead skin on the river as
the cool concrete burns right through my shoes.

i only know the alphabet if i sing it all the way through,
aside from that i might as well be thinking Greek.

we rolled together in a field of dandelions: white and yellow
as her skirt lifted slightly i began to dream of weeds.

pain is always on the inside whether physical or not
once it reaches the outside it becomes joy.

grace. grace was fed to me tremendously in the seventies
unfortunately i hid it under the table never to be regained.

i overheard a sick bird complaining to a friend about the end
and how even in the next life he'll have to have wings.

-el vikingo