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My Love

Yes, she made quite an impression at the time. I hope she’s doing well out there in the world, free of drama and surrounded by good people.

My Love

In all my days of love and loss, I never once have pined, my love,
As here I pine beneath the night, longing to know your mind, my love.

Of all the ways these feet have trod, in places bleak and bright, my love,
The way I favor most to go is where we walk in kind, my love.

In all the airy lands abroad, I never once have found, my love,
A peace that permeates my soul, as when we rest entwined, my love.

Of all the treasures I have found, of jasper and of jade, my love,
You are by far the fairest gem, by far my greatest find, my love.

In any clime upon the earth, wherever you may go, my love,
If you will have me, I will join, however trails may wind, my love.

Of all the pain this heart has known, the thought of losing you, my love,
Promotes a deeper terror, still, than thoughts of going blind, my love.

Zahhar can only love your heart, that shines like polished gold, my love,
So patience in this love for you can never fall behind, my love.

This is my 125th ghazal.

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Vapors

She inspired many poems from me during the time I knew her. This is probably among the best of them.

Vapors

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 122nd ghazal.

Publication History:

Muse Apprentice Guild (web-based) — Fall 2003

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Dancelight

My very first girlfriend studied ethnic dance at UCLA, amongst other things. She was born in Taiwan, but raised in Southern California. Although we were only an item for about a year and a half, she had a tremendous impact on my life in general.

I owe her a lot, actually, for she inspired me to better myself in multiple ways—Everything from the way I talked and carried myself to the way I perceived the world and my place within it. If we never met, I’m sure that I would still be an irrepressible, delinquent teenager, or worse. She was a catalyst for self-improvement, so it seemed fitting to dedicate a ghazal to her even though many years have passed and we have both long since moved on.

Dancelight

For Wennifer

Though countless twirling wonders dance before to bait my heart,
Her dance splits night asunder—brilliance holds elate my heart.

When first her dark eyes opened, all the bashful heavens blushed;
The full moon danced out singing, “Let her gaze gyrate my heart!”

I saw her lightly dancing midst a grove of cherry trees,
Their blossoms rained upon her; scenes as such translate my heart.

A weeping porcelain rose cried, “Once with dancing step she passed;
She picked me up and kissed me; now what love can sate my heart?”

Her midnight jasmine fragrance dances playful on the wind,
And drifts across the rooftops on to stimulate my heart.

She walked down by the ocean where the waves danced at her feet,
The sea said, “Though I fall back, this does not abate my heart.”

One day I heard Zahhar say, “I did not know how to dance,
And though she tried to teach me, I could not locate my heart.”

This is my 111th ghazal.

Publication History:

Muse Apprentice Guild (web-based) — Fall 2003

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Displacement

She was one of the few good friends I’ve made in my adult life, someone who took me seriously as an individual and as a poet. Ten years later (It is October 27, 2012, and I’m posting this as a backlogged post), I still miss her and think about her. She had a positive impact on my life.

Displacement

In memory of Yvonne Sligh

You’ve left behind a nightmare of ripping loss,
And joy was sliced from the heart by this clipping loss.

Knowing you faded a little more each day,
We tried our best to ignore it, this nipping loss.

Together we shared in brimming abundance, but
We at the banquet only were sipping loss.

The empty space you filled is empty again;
Wind howls into the vacuum with whipping loss.

Will you now dream of us from that place of dreams,
And pray our hearts to heal from your stripping loss?

Will you with angel feathers we cannot see
Brush past in hopes to console our gripping loss?

Take heart, Zahhar, for your friend has but transformed,
Moving beyond this realm of slipping loss.

This is my 68th ghazal.

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Offering

There are many things driving me to study and write poetry, not the least of which is this sense or belief that I have something important and tangible to offer through the medium. I later rewrote this ghazal entirely under the revised title, “Offerings” (pluralized).

Offering

I trudge now back through this grime for you
Because it may ease the climb for you.

Because you just might learn from my pain,
I re-walk that bitter rime for you.

I’m told there are riches deep within,
So I search this fetid slime for you.

I seek rubies in the cave of loss,
Yet I’m glad to spend the time for you.

The earth and stars all could have been mine,
But I’ve passed these chances prime for you.

I’ll peel the rind and my soul expose,
Then wait as a silent mime for you.

Pearls were buried with my heart, you see,
So I dig back through the lime for you.

If in your depths these words resonate,
Zahhar is sounding a chime for you.

This is my 61st ghazal.

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Rarity

I only saw her maybe three or four times total at a Denny’s Restaurant where I used to hang out into all hours of the night. I never spoke to her or made any attempt to introduce myself, but clearly she made an impression since I was thinking about her when I wrote this a few years later.

Rarity

The supple wonder of her grace is art,
And how the heart responds in pace is art.

With windows to a peaceful golden soul,
Her gentle, loving, tender face is art;

In picturesque perfection lost in thought,
Her careless gaze across a space is art.

One could not dream of sculptures finer made—
Her aspect to its faintest trace is art.

A glowing warmth as from the sliding sun,
Her fragrant presence in its place is art.

Zahhar delights in treasures such as her,
For just her current in the race is art.

This is my 37th ghazal.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Beautiful Tears

This was written for an online friend after she experienced a rather bitter loss.

Beautiful Tears

For Luschka Van Olsen

Try to imagine
Crystal drops
Gentle wonder
Welling forth
Love unfettered
From heart benign…
These are your tears
Your beautiful tears

Try to fathom
Melting snowflakes
Downwardly dancing
Expressing love
From depths of pain
Longing loss
Unyielding hope…
These are your tears
Your beautiful tears

Try to envision
Lone stars falling
From star-speckled depths
Streaking aloft
Dreaming trails
Of unbridled faith…
These are your tears
Your beautiful tears

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Eloquence

Hormones wrote this poem. I was taking a class at Mendocino College, and there was this woman. You know the story. For the most part this was an inspired write.

Eloquence

For Priscilla

if words
could express
your loveliness
your depthless beauty…

…they would soar
in endless freedom
profound grace
a gliding eagle
lost in the bliss
of a perfect sky
full of fragrant winds
fathomless spectacles
thrilling peace

…they would bloom
in a riot of splendor
like great meadows
vast valleys
emblazoning brilliant
with spring blossoms
as if a rainbow
were itself imprinted
into the very land

…they would flow
like the wandering waters
of a sliding stream
beneath the verdant shade
swaying canopy
of a dreaming forest
allaying forever
all ambient life

…they would shine
with the gentle radiance
of a full moon
in still clear skies
bathing all beneath it
in quiet iridescence
bringing forth
the deepest beauties
from the heart
of all things held
in the pearly thrall
of its silver glow

… … … … …

words will remain
forever inadequate
infirm to express
the silken grace
splendid radiance
serene delight
mysterious wonder
and remarkable eloquence
of your genuine beauty