T.G.I.F. 11/15/19
Hello! Welcome to T.G.I.F. 

What this is:  A new prompt will be posted every Friday.  Everyone is welcome to participate in this thread at any time, no restrictions apply.  Don't overthink the prompts, just let loose and have a bit of fun.  

How it Works:   
1. Write a poem on the suggested topic using the form described.  (However, the prompt is more like guidelines, not a hard and fast rule.)
2. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread.
3. The goal is to have FUN!!!   Comments, kudos, and questions are welcome responses.

Friday, November 15, 2019

Topic:  Any.   This week it's about form!   Big Grin  

Form: ghazal 

What is a ghazal?  Here is the link to the thread in poetry practice.  Also, I copied Leann's explanation below for quick reference.
The ghazal is of Persian origin, which usually deals with pain/loss and recovery/enlightenment, or triumph over adversity, or appreciating beauty despite suffering... you get the picture null

The form is essentially rhyming couplets, with consistent meter but in English, the choice of that meter is up to you. I'm no expert on Persian/Arabic meters, which are quite complex and different to those in English, but the beauty of the ghazal is in its reinforcement through the refrain, or radif.

Each couplet must be self-contained, ie no enjambment between couplets and in fact as little as possible within the couplets -- the idea is that each couplet can be quoted as a neat little saying. Theoretically...

The rhyme scheme is essentially:










The first couplet sets up the problem (just like the first part of a sonnet), and the last one is a "signature", which often has the poet's pen-name (takhallus) worked in somehow (in as clever a way as you like), together with a personal statement about the poem and the poet's feelings. The trick is this: the last few words of the first line becomes the radif, used AFTER THE RHYME at the end of every subsequent A rhyming line.

It was a form favoured by the great Persian poet Rumi, although I can't find any really good translations of his to give you an idea of what the form should look like. I did find this very good example by Agha Shahid Ali:

Even The Rain

What will suffice for a true-love knot? Even the rain?
But he has bought grief's lottery, bought even the rain.

"our glosses / wanting in this world" "Can you remember?"
Anyone! "when we thought / the poets taught" even the rain?

After we died--That was it!--God left us in the dark.
And as we forgot the dark, we forgot even the rain.

Drought was over. Where was I? Drinks were on the house.
For mixers, my love, you'd poured--what?--even the rain.

Of this pear-shaped orange's perfumed twist, I will say:
Extract Vermouth from the bergamot, even the rain.

How did the Enemy love you--with earth? air? and fire?
He held just one thing back till he got even: the rain.

This is God's site for a new house of executions?
You swear by the Bible, Despot, even the rain?

After the bones--those flowers--this was found in the urn:
The lost river, ashes from the ghat, even the rain.

What was I to prophesy if not the end of the world?
A salt pillar for the lonely lot, even the rain.

How the air raged, desperate, streaming the earth with flames--
to help burn down my house, Fire sought even the rain.

He would raze the mountains, he would level the waves,
he would, to smooth his epic plot, even the rain.

New York belongs at daybreak to only me, just me--
to make this claim Memory's brought even the rain.

They've found the knife that killed you, but whose prints are these?
No one has such small hands, Shahid, not even the rain.

Yours needn't be so long, of course -- it's a minimum of 5 couplets, but no maximum. I've highlighted the A rhymes so you can easily see how the refrain lines work. Note also that he uses his name in the final couplet and makes the entire thing very personal.

Line Requirement:  The guide says minimum of 5 couplets, but no maximum.  Thumbsup

If you have prompt suggestions, feel free to pm your ideas to Quix. 
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara 
Ill Met

I lost your love before you won my heart–
your love was mere attraction from the start.

We met and clicked, eyes meeting in the rain;
you loved me to distraction from the start.

I learned to love you back, but you had found
I wouldn’t join your faction from the start.

So now my adoration triggers hate,
my pain’s your satisfaction, from the start.

I curse that wretched day we first locked eyes,
and each succeeding action from the start.

Yet I can’t curse you, though you chained my heart
to your aggrieved reaction, from the start.

We never should have touched, that fateful day;
best would have been retraction from the start.

But this is how we live: now it’s too late
to void our interaction from the start.

These sobriety tests are getting really difficult! Smile
feedback award Non-practicing atheist

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