Ghazal of the Bullwhip
Who hears braided tongues lashing the glare still?
The language of pain writhing through white air, still.
Or herding cattle you pop and crack above the horizon,
pastoral and flowing. But sharp, a sonic nightmare, still.
You ask how love blossoms through decades and more.
That look, a caress, the perfect words – all quite rare, still.
Oh to be a larks head knot, strengthening when used.
Delicious hitch, unmoved water, tight square, still.
I fall, you fall. We fall together in pleated silence.
The inevitable loop of the captive’s bright snare, still.
No gods today, but voices trickling through my skull:
Bob, Bob, they say. Not again. Even you should care. Still!
* * *
In response to a comment, Daniel Schnee dared/challenged me to write a poem about a bullwhip. To make it interesting I decided to combine his theme with my latest enthusiasm, the ghazal form.
This first appeared on the blog in September 2017.
The pleated silence of the fallen love!
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You never know what lurks in those pleats.
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Yep, sometimes a mystery you know!
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Mmm it’s that intriguing!
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Thank you.
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Welcome!
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“We fall together in pleated silence.” Oh my. I must have missed this in 2017. I miss so many things…..
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I’m glad you caught it this time around!
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“pleated silence”, still my favorite phrase from this poem.The plication of silence… what a concept! As always, you are the master of all things…
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Ha! I am the master of nothing, but I blunder on.
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To quote The Life of Brian… “only the true Messiah denies his divinity!”
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What better source to quote?
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I used to own a copy of the script of TLOB (Yes, I am that huge of a fan), memorized the entire dialogue of The Holy Grail, and even made a “pilgrimage” to Doune Castle, Scotland to take pictures of he various spots where they filmed the “French Taunting”, Castle Anthrax, Swamp castle and other related scenes. I had to race over to Sterling from Edinburgh to find a room at the local inn, get up early the next morning to run around the castle, before catching a ride with a local to the train station to get a train all the way back to Edinburgh to catch the train to Leeds, England (3 hour trip) to catch a flight to Holland to take the hour-long train from the airport into Amsterdam to just barely make it to an afternoon gig! I HATE taking chances like that… BUT I had no choice. It was all for Monty Python after all!!
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Now that is fandom!
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