Last year, through reading Jim Harrison, one of my favorite writers, I discovered a new poetic form — the ghazal, pronounced gutturally more like “guzzle.” It is an old Persian form that has been Americanized beyond some of the purists’ sensibilities.
I adopted/adapted the form of the decidedly informal Robert Bly: His ghazals are four to six, three-line stanzas that may well be related, though not necessarily, and certainly not obviously. Some have likened these stanzas to separate, three-line poems.
This type of poetry requires the reader or listener to engage, as each stanza can present a different scenario or oddly connected thoughts or a new character. And though one is tempted to find the connections, such a search shouldn’t be the primary or end-all response. Ghazals require little more than an intellectual and/or emotional response — not an answer. Perhaps a second read might be in order, but certainly not as some puzzle to be solved.
Mr. Bly started out with an homage to the ancient craft’s many complex requirements by using the same word to end each stanza. So did I. (“Hangover,” “Happy Hour,” “Not Ready for Radio” and “Recruits.”)
He then dropped that artificial dictate and so did I (“Aesthetics of Sensing,” “Heaven’s Junkyard,” “The Next Time,” “Happy New Year.”)
One last word about the Bly form: It offers a nod to formality with its requirement that each stanza be composed of 36 syllables. That’s actually the easiest thing about this form!
But who’s counting? Certainly you should not. Click to return to the poems, where you can read them and see what you think. Or let me read them to you.