Empty Voyage

Believe it or not, I wrote this while in a very positive relationship. I wanted to see if I could capture the feelings I experienced during a 3 year period where I chose to be celibate and single in hopes of forcing myself to develop emotionally and spiritually, and thus have more to offer in my next relationship. The pay-off was outstanding. I gained more from that experience of celibacy than I ever could have hoped. And I have indeed been able to offer a great deal more in my relationships since then. Yet, man… It was tough, being alone all that time…

Empty Voyage

A darkling vapor neath I lie alone;
I gaze into a sullen sky alone…

My heart deeply eclipsed by vast despair,
I watch the tide of days draw nigh alone…

A shrouding umbrage fallen on my thoughts—
Embittered full of gall, I cry alone…

Within the hollow vastitudes beset,
I dimly witness life pass by alone…

Upon my soul the dim expanses press;
My hope is crushed; I slowly die alone…

I may not know the gentle breath of Spring;
In Winter’s dismal chill I wry alone…

Will no-one hear the music that I hear?
While my heart goes unshared, I sigh alone…

These slopes I scale are treacherous and steep;
I have not strength to climb too high alone…

A blossom yet may bloom within, Zahhar;
Perhaps you will not through life fly alone…

This is my 33rd ghazal.

Reforming Words

It has always seemed to me that words—language—are the very foundations upon which sentience is based. Without them, barring telepathic communication, there would be no way to communicate, and certainly no way to leave behind a legacy. I later rewrote this poem entirely under the same title, “Reforming Words”, with a slightly different focus.

Reforming Words

Touched by majestic magic founding words,
My thoughts are full of most astounding words.

Scribed in languages long before our own,
Their gifts were wrought in strong redounding words.

Angelic tongues, now half forgotten lore,
Unlocked the secrets with expounding words.

Clear they expressed the space between the poles,
Yet time has changed them to confounding words.

The place where dreams began and dreams will end
Can hardly be explained through bounding words.

With antiquated brush her symbols formed;
With modern key they still are grounding words.

Until that shore lost in the haze is reached,
Our hearts will be pursued by hounding words.

Reformed again from aeons lost diffused,
Zahhar begins anew in sounding words.

This is my 30th ghazal.

Etchings

Trees of all kinds will always inspire poems from me. This ghazal is one such creature. There is a cohesive pattern to the shadows as you read, starting with Winter and ending in Autumn.

Etchings

This poem has been published in my book an inkling hope: select poems, available in Kindle and paperback formats. Out of consideration for those who have purchased a copy, I have removed it from this post and online viewing in general.

This is my 18th ghazal, revised in January of 2013.

Moonset

I have always felt a peculiar connection with the moon, like an enchantment. I suppose this is true for most people. She does, after all, tug at the very molecules from which we’re formed and influence the tidal flows of our chemistries.

Moonset

Upon a streaming cloudscape floats directive moon;
Like a feather falling drifts perfective moon.

Soundless autumn breezes rustle unseen leaves—
Silhouettes of trees beneath projective moon.

Moonlight flickers faintly, cast through broken shroud;
Gently in descent retreats respective moon.

Shifting slow and silent against the depths of night,
Radiant vapors phase below reflective moon.

Soundless on horizon, a cloud-like dragon flies,
Final hues reflecting from far prospective moon.

Still, serene, amazed, Zahhar observes alone,
Distant shimmering moods of our affective moon.

This is my 17th ghazal.

Publication History

The Ghazal Page (web-based) — August 2003

Narcolepsy

I have been narcoleptic most of my life—if not all of my life. For me, the most salient effect this condition has had on my experience of living is that of making it all seem like one very long dream. It is sometimes difficult for me to figure out if I’m really awake, or really asleep for that matter.

Narcolepsy

I live between two realms oppressively trapped,
By force unseen long held repressively trapped.

I never feel alive or fully present,
Halfway in Land of Nod recessively trapped.

Tethered to a plane I can’t escape,
My doom is to remain impressively trapped.

My struggle for coherent mind is constant,
Held by Morpheus’ hand depressively trapped.

I phase like a shade amid the moving world,
By underworld of dreams possessively trapped.

Sometimes seized by an invisible grip,
I fall to paralysis suppressively trapped.

I’m worn by this wrestle for consistency,
Forever snapping back successively trapped.

When will Zahhar rise forth into the light—
Or shall he timeless be regressively trapped?

This is my 16th ghazal.

Fragments

This is the poem that got me started studying poetry very seriously in August of 2001. Before I wrote this, I was hopelessly stuck in free-verse mode, never exploring beyond the bounds of the paradigmatic popular. So, you’ll find that some of the language is archaic because this is what it took for me to create this piece.

After writing this, I spent the next two and a half years writing ghazals. To read those ghazals from the first to the last is to follow my progression as a poet from the sort of thing you see here part of the way to the sort of thing I write today. This piece, though I’ve edited it a few times since writing it, is still exemplary of my beginnings as a serious poet.

Fragments

What walks on four legs in the morning,
Two legs in the afternoon,
And three legs in the evening?

Dawn

Faint light appears along horizon’s edge;
With steady pace the still light brighter glows;
New promise comes with daybreak like a pledge.

Tide of gentle rising luminance flows;
Deep darkness slowly fades away from sight;
With steady pace the still light brighter glows.

Dim shapes concealed beneath the veil of night
Form into clarity with even stride;
Deep darkness slowly fades away from sight.

New life, from stasis, forth emerges wide;
Fresh understandings of brave life to be
Form into clarity with even stride.

Illuminance continues rising free;
And vivid hope within the heart inspires
Fresh understandings of brave life to be.

To utter brilliance from the slightest fires,
Faint light appears along horizon’s edge
And vivid hope within the heart inspires;
New promise comes with daybreak like a pledge.
 

Sunrise

Great new brilliant birthing springs resilient;
Erased is doubt from whence the light ensues;
Wondrous blooming sunlight climbs ebullient.

To resplendence from the first light’s pastel hues
This shining marvel heart and soul entrance;
Erased is doubt from whence the light ensues.

Deep knowing brooded warm of life’s advance
Until horizon’s edge erupted fire;
This shining marvel heart and soul entrance.

From thence the sun shall rise in tranquil gyre,
As such it streamed beneath the realm of sight
Until horizon’s edge erupted fire.

A glorious new day has taken flight;
Fresh living streams exultant into view,
As such it streamed beneath the realm of sight.

Hopes inmost and profound are realized true;
Great new brilliant birthing springs resilient;
Fresh living streams exultant into view;
Wondrous blooming sunlight climbs ebullient.
 

Morningtide

Exploring gently, day’s new light grows strong;
Forth climbs the sun into sky’s vast expanse;
Slow shrink the shadows as the day wears long.

Deep feeling forms with day’s glowing advance,
The sense of vibrant strength that shines in youth;
Forth climbs the sun into sky’s vast expanse.

Warmth deepens in the bold sun’s rising sooth,
And warmth within the heart of life instills
The sense of vibrant strength that shines in youth.

Lambency wondrous tender hope distills;
In fervent luminance the land is bathed
And warmth within the heart of life instills.

Life’s essence in all steadiness is lathed
As fullness of the day is slowly reached,
In fervent luminance the land is bathed.

Life’s greatest depths of meaning are beseeched;
Exploring gently, day’s new light grows strong
As fullness of the day is slowly reached,
Slow shrink the shadows as the day wears long.
 

Noontide

Day reaches utmost fullness of its run;
The land lay brightly blazoned neath the sky
Where at resplendent zenith burns the sun.

Shadows vanish before the fulgence high;
Great living light of day its prime has gained;
The land lay brightly blazoned neath the sky.

Deep feeling of life’s richness is attained
In radiance magnificently made,
Great living light of day its prime has gained.

The airy land in stillness bright is staid,
And deepest gentle warmth all life imbues
In radiance magnificently made.

Full strength of living in the heart ensues
As brilliant glows the day from boundless height
And deepest gentle warmth all life imbues.

Grand sense of freedom wonderful takes flight;
Day reaches utmost fullness of its run
As brilliant glows the day from boundless height
Where at resplendent zenith burns the sun.
 

Eventide

Slow fades the greater power of the day;
Bright sun forth to horizon makes return;
Life’s prime has gently passed in subtle sway.

Soft breezes whisper through day’s paced adjourn;
Calm cools the land with fading strength of light;
Bright sun forth to horizon makes return.

Reflections vivid come of living’s height
As nearer draws the daytide’s closing end,
Calm cools the land with fading strength of light.

A calmness settles deep as shadows scend,
And peaceful reckoning rises within
As nearer draws the daytide’s closing end.

Now mostly lived, life’s fullness goes to thin
As placid grows the sky in day’s advance,
And peaceful reckoning rises within.

Staid iridescence dims in far expanse;
Slow fades the greater power of the day
As placid grows the sky in day’s advance,
Life’s prime has gently passed in subtle sway.
 

Sunset

In paced decline withdraws the mighty sun;
All land and sky reflect the dying light,
Resplendent glory of the day is done.

Day’s utmost beauties saved till now take flight
Like effulgent gates of heaven gleaming,
All land and sky reflect the dying light.

Life’s swan song of light shines brightly dreaming,
Reflections stream of day’s long cavalcade
Like effulgent gates of heaven gleaming.

Shadows begin to blur in overshade
As sun’s last rays fall from horizon’s rim
Reflections stream of day’s long cavalcade.

Upon sky’s faintest vapors colors swim
Emblazoning the firmament’s expanse
As sun’s last rays fall from horizon’s rim.

Great culmination of day’s long romance,
In paced decline withdraws the mighty sun
Emblazoning the firmament’s expanse,
Resplendent glory of the day is done.
 

Dusk

Soft iridescence fades from heaven’s height;
To darkness deep the sky gradates from day
When cross the sky folds purple edge of night.

In firmament’s expanse the vapors gray
As silhouettes within the distance form;
To darkness deep the sky gradates from day.

Depthless tranquility broods deep and warm,
Day’s essence long in memory remains
As silhouettes within the distance form.

Into a milky hue the daylight wanes
As clarity to vagueness makes return,
Day’s essence long in memory remains.

In dimness issued forth from sun’s inurn
New hopes pierce the dark in twilight’s failing
As clarity to vagueness makes return.

Till horizon all alone lay paling
Soft iridescence fades from heaven’s height;
New hopes pierce the dark in twilight’s failing
When cross the sky folds purple edge of night.

This poem contains my 1st through my 7th terzanelles.

Publication History:

Muse Apprentice Guild (web-based) — Fall 2003

For Me Alone

On Tuesdays there is a poetry and music open mic at Northlight Book & Cafe in Cotati, California. I’ve been going there off and on for about a year to recite and/or sing classical poems. Recently an exceptionally beautiful woman started talking to me. This never happens to me, so of course I was instantly enamored.

The last time we talked, we sat on a bench out in front of the cafe and covered a few topics. At one point she sang to me, right there next to me, and my heart soared so high it came back covered in moondust. This is the sort of thing I’ve fantasized about since I was a toddler. So, my 2nd villanelle.

For Me Alone

For Julene Beeson

Her voice like golden harps of heaven rang,
As on a bench we sat within the night;
For me, for me alone her heart she sang.

To lucid resonance from mystic tang
Her depths of beauty shone transcendent light;
Her voice like golden harps of heaven rang.

Within my chest a soft celestial pang
Lay cradled twixt deep longing and delight;
For me, for me alone her heart she sang.

Angelic sweetness round us seemed to hang;
Divinely wrought with chords of richness bright
Her voice like golden harps of heaven rang.

Tremendous joys from depths inside me sprang;
My heart, in rapture, soared to starry height;
For me, for me alone her heart she sang.

As if emerging from an ageless pang,
I woke to living there before her sight;
Her voice like golden harps of heaven rang;
For me, for me alone her heart she sang.

Your Loss

A friend of mine was recently dumped by her fiance. This has affected her greatly. I wanted to cheer her up in some way, but you know how it is. When someone has really been hurt to the core, there aren’t many words you can offer. So, I thought I would write a poem, my first villanelle, to the cheating bastard who dumped her instead.

Your Loss

For Alexandra

How could you turn your heart from love so grand?
A love as hers you will not know again;
Your loss is greater than you understand.

Her burning love for you would all withstand;
Never a love so pure will you attain;
How could you turn your heart from love so grand?

Unto the end would she have kept your hand,
And never with another ever lain;
Your loss is greater than you understand.

She would not in her days her love remand;
A truer love in life you will not gain;
How could you turn your heart from love so grand?

No deeper love than hers is in the land;
Perdurable, through time would it remain;
Your loss is greater than you understand.

You’ve left her with a broken heart to stand
In emptiness alone with all her pain;
How could you turn your heart from love so grand?
Your loss is greater than you understand.

The Sacred Moment

This is a very old poem written in 1992. I’ve revised it twice since then: Once in 2003, then a little more this month. It’s interesting to me to look back and see how and what I used to write.

This poem was also written just before I gave up on metrical structures for a period of over ten years, and about 6 months before I stopped writing poetry altogether for a period of about 7 years.

As I recall, Yamuna was a dancer from India who taught traditional ethnic dance at UCLA. I saw her perform a few times, and she apparently made quite an impression on my young hormones.

The Sacred Moment

For Yamuna

An ancient wind there swept across the field.
An ardent flame there flashed before mine eyes.
A cherished wonder forthwith spun and reeled,
A fervent beauty gracing earth and skies.

Serpent-like, her sensuous form moved freely.
She swept the ages with each pass of her hand.
Her gaze divine with love made radiantly,
Held all the earth from where she there did stand.

Her spirit shone exalting in her dance,
Fiery beauty flaring transcendent light.
Her fairest face inspiring deep romance,
A thrilling wonder, passionately bright.

Just a moment of moments lost to time,
I saw this fair and radiant holy host.
An incarnation of love that rang with rhyme—
Away she faded from me like a ghost.