[Carl Copeland]

Originally Posted by Alexandra Baez

Hi, Carl. Since this thread has risen back up, I'll take this opportunity to hop on!

Welcome aboard, Alexandra!

Originally Posted by Alexandra Baez

In the second sher, I see you’ve introduced a rose again! I guess this is becoming a leitmotif for you.

It’s a nod to traditional ghazals, which Wikipedia says are often set in a “garden, where the poet often takes on the personage of the bulbul, a songbird. The poet is singing to the beloved, who is often embodied as a rose.” I haven’t found a place yet for the songbird.

Originally Posted by Alexandra Baez

I also tripped a bit over “secret safe” because I construed "safe" as a noun rather than the adjective that you surely intend. I was inclined that way by the preceding “lock” and “key.”

That’s a very useful observation, since the potential misreading never occurred to me. I’ll think about ways of preventing it.

Originally Posted by Alexandra Baez

I don’t know about all others, but your intended reference to AIDS here completely eluded me, although it’s very interesting.

I suspect it eluded everyone, though only you and Matt have questioned it. I was originally thinking of something like “but in the eighties, millions died for love,” but I’d probably have to mention AIDS specifically to make sure everyone got it. I’ll give it more thought.

Originally Posted by Alexandra Baez

But I wondered why you introduced “mourning” in the sher following that. It felt jarring in the overall context of love—does this touch on some unexplained drama of heartbreak? How could there be a doubt whether a person had mourning or love on their mind, since these two emotions are so radically different?

The person I’m thinking of tragically lost someone he had recently fallen in love with, but found a new and enduring love while he was still in mourning. It’s not something readers could possibly get out of these two lines, so I’m hoping they’ll tolerate a little mystery.

I might add that love and mourning are often mixed for me, since almost everyone I’ve loved, including the imagined ones, are now in my past, one way or another. It’s the wellspring of this poem.

Originally Posted by Alexandra Baez

And I was totally confused by the next sher, and why the perspective on the beloved changed from first person plural to third person.

I was worried about that. The poem actually has three characters: the first-person N, an imagined soulmate who never materialized (second person) and a real person who seemed for a while like a soulmate (third person). Matt got it, but not without help:

Originally Posted by Matt Q

now I can read the "him" as a possible "you", one who might have become the "you" if the N had acted.

Originally Posted by Alexandra Baez

Along the lines of Siham’s thoughts, I can’t help but wonder if there mightn’t be space in more people’s hearts for an offshoot of the ghazal form that is narrative, or semi-narrative in the way that she describes. I think your poem works very well like this, but that being said, it’s apparent that you want to experiment with a more traditional approach here, and I wouldn’t want to discourage that, either.

Thanks for the encouragement, Alexandra. I won’t rule out another “semi-narrative” ghazal. In fact, the narrative pull is so strong that I can’t yet think how to avoid it. I need to read more.