Rohan Buettel: “I like writing ghazals, like sonnets, because they have strict formal requirements. There is a pleasure in meeting the challenge of writing a formal poem complying with the requirements. Then there is the pleasure of writing more contemporary poems dispensing with some of those elements (such as rhyme). As there is no metrical requirement, there is also the pleasure of experimenting with different meters or free verse. I see the ghazal as the equivalent of the sonnet form developed in the Middle East. Some ghazals in English work very well when they incorporate sonnet-like aspects, such as a strict iambic pentameter. I have always felt uncomfortable using my own name in the last stanza, so use a more self-effacing reference.”
Sally Bliumis-Dunn: “I think I write poems to try and discover what I feel. Try as I might, I’ve never found another vehicle that does as well. I live in Armonk, New York, with my husband John. We share four children, Ben, Angie, Kaitlin and Fiona.” (web)
Jen DeGregorio: “I woke up one morning last July and sat down hoping to write a poem. I had just gotten back into a regular poetry-writing practice after a long hiatus and was fearful that my creative well had gone dry. While pre-poem internet surfing, I somehow happened upon the news about the millipede discovery, and this poem poured out of me in about an hour (though I’ve been studying and writing poetry seriously for twenty years, so I’m no savant). The care with which the journalist had written about this millipede species and the entomologists studying it struck me as so touching; I felt overwhelmed by feeling for the journalist and the entomologists, doing what I’ll call God’s work (though I’m not sure what I mean by God). So much is heartbreaking in our world, but reading this story lifted my spirit: The Earth is still full of mystery, and there are good, curious people out there who wish to help us unravel it. Journalists—often maligned—are heroes to me. Entomologists are heroes. Anyone who is committed to nurturing this world—including through study, through the sharing of knowledge—is a hero. But such heroes, these quieter ones, often go unsung. Let poetry sing their praise.” (web)
Alison Luterman: “I find myself unable to watch either of the two candidates currently vying for the office of the President of the United States of America. I will vote for the Democrat, of course. But I am still not over my disappointment that Elizabeth Warren was bumped out of the 2020 race, or the other qualified women who could be leading our country brilliantly right now were it not for patriarchy.” (web)
Claire Beeli: “I write poetry as a sort of record, and as a medium for working out complex ideas. Each image, clever phrase, and stanza becomes a permanent record of a thought, an emotion I’ve observed, or an experience I’ve had, rendering them immortal. I’d like to think that I’ll be able to look back in 10, 20, or even 50 years to what I’ve written as a teenager and recognize each poem as a time capsule. I use writing to tease out the connections between varied, nuanced concepts, too—to form unlikely pairings of images and ideas or work out the kinks in a kind of philosophical argument. To me, it’s the most useful art form there is.”
Notes: Waiz, in Urdu from Arabic, means preacher, homilist, adviser, admonisher, exhorter. Maaz is my takhallus (penname), from Arabic, and means asylum, refuge.
Maaz Bin Bilal (from the conversation): “Poetry exists even in our cinema, for example, as most of our films, especially until recently, used to be musicals, so all the film songwriters are often poets from Urdu, which is my mother tongue. Urdu ghazals, which are derived from Persian ghazals, and which in turn are derived from Arabic ghazals, are sung often and set to music. As I was growing up in my own house, my father would often play the ghazal genre of music on the record or cassette player. So Urdu poetry, and film songs also, which are derived from particularly Urdu poetry and ghazals, were all around me. … [W]hile growing up, the ghazal was the kind of poetry that I was most in tune with. I soaked in the rhythms, the rhymes, the ideas.” (web)
“An Early Autumn Light that Unburies You” by Steven PanPosted by Rattle
Image: “Bird Ascending the Fire” by Barbara Hageman Sarvis. “An Early Autumn Light that Unburies You” was written by Steven Pan for Rattle’s Ekphrastic Challenge, May 2024, and selected as the Editor’s Choice.
Comment from the editor, Megan O’Reilly: “There are many aspects of ‘An Early Autumn Light that Unburies You’ that left an impression, from its smooth flow and musicality to its depth of meaning, but what stands out most, perhaps, is the way it’s peppered with gorgeous and brilliant turns of phrase–so many the effect could be overwhelming in the hands of a less adept poet. In the very same sentence, we find ‘The detour / of your shadow,’ ‘perception / as imprecise as memory’ (a stunningly insightful description), and ‘the autumn lingering / inside of it.’ One could read these lines many times and still be taken by the beauty and profundity of the poet’s language. When I first saw this image, I thought such a dramatic and striking piece of art would be challenging to match. I can’t imagine a better partner than this poem.”
