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      August 19, 2024Fractured Double GhazalClif Mason

      I love a woman 
      whose hands are full of stars. 
      When passion flares, 
      I am a bowl of stars. 
       
      I drink deep from her kiss, 
      a flute of fire. 
      After long drink, 
      I owe no debt of fire. 
       
      I seek her all night long 
      through softest rain. 
      At dawn, each puddle 
      is a skull of stars. 
       
      The world offers ample occasion 
      for pain. 
      I touch, unharmed, her hair, 
      a net of fire. 
       
      Our days’ exacting work 
      keeps us apart. 
      In hard daylight, 
      there is a lull of stars. 
       
      I cannot turn my gaze 
      away from her face. 
      Her hazel eyes are gems, 
      deep set, of fire. 
       
      Our nights of love 
      are still but brief heartbeats. 
      They burn forever bright— 
      how cruel of stars. 
       
      I try to hold love 
      in a gentle grip. 
      I learn you cannot make 
      a pet of fire. 
       
      In lonely distance 
      lies chill perfection. 
      As you know, Clif, 
      that is the rule of stars. 
       
      Swim, Clif, in the instant’s 
      dark river of flame. 
      Not to love is to feel 
      a regret of fire.

      from #84 – The Ghazal

      Clif Mason

      “The ghazal satisfies the aesthetic yearnings of those who appreciate a certain regularity in their verse, as well as those who enjoy a certain disruption in their forms, as each couplet is independent of the others (and could, if one wished, stand alone as its own short poem). With classic forms like this, the question is always how both to respect it, and to make it new. I’ve attempted to do this by, first, doubling the form, intermixing two ghazals, and second, by fracturing the resulting form.”

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