The Regntiden1
for Lloyd A. Jacobs, Ejaz Rahim & Leonidas Efthmiou
after Rain (Regn) by Edvard Munch (Norway), 1902 C.E.
I
The Bookshelf //
I assemble the newly procured bookshelf
and place the wooden statues of The Zulu Warriors—
my father had brought back with him from Kenya
in the Summer of ’96 C.E.—
on either side of the five-shelved rack,
as if The Valkyries at the Valgrind to Valhalla.
I place the books horizontally on the wooden planks,
not vertically—since, the weight of the words
can also force the spine of the book to bend.
*
The weight of the words of some books
is also (in)famous for forcing the minds-of-wo/men
to bend & mend! And I ponder: if the weight of the words
of my books will also succeed in serving such a purpose?
II
East & West //
I literally use the compass to figure out
the exact eastern-end and the western-end of my room,
and place the 4’ tall wooden lamp—
a present I had received from my ex-girlfriend
in the Summer of ’14 C.E.—
in the Eastern Corner.
[Perhaps,] it’s the effect of the sweet intoxication
from the aroma of the freshly rain-bathed soil
that forces me to take the proverb,
the sun rises in the East
and sets in the West,
literally!
And I place the stone incense burner
(with an uncovered opening to the compartment
inside for hosting a miniature candle)—
procured from The Body Shop—
atop the lid of the lamp to symbolise the Stella/Sol.2
III
The Vahana //3
I think of pulling my vahana –
Toyota Aqua (Hybrid) 1500 cc
(procured via a local car dealer
in the Summer of ’17 C.E.) –
out of the porch and
letting her also bathe and breathe
in the mint-fresh rain.
*
This early, early ante meridiem
cata-doxa4 is a call for Celebration ‘n Change:
the (in)famous Indian Monsoon is early
in the Summer of ’22 C.E.
Both the man & the beast will be observing
the Thanksgiving early, too—
since the sunrays, like the uninvited guests,
had the dramas-of-life rather shackled, lately.
______________
1. Regntiden (Norwegian): The Rains.
2. Sol (Roman Mythology): The Sun God.
3. Vahana (Hindu Mythology): The Ride of a God/Goddess.
4. Cata-Doxa (Greek idiom): (Raining) Cats and Dogs.
On the Beaches in Bulgaria: 2016 C.E.for Cameron, Monika & Aleksandra
after Children Playing On The Beach by Mary S. Cassatt (USA), 1884 C.E.
I
Today —
Solis-roasted Sand2;
Solis-burnt Sea2.
It makes you appreciate e=mc2
in a rather strange, strange way.
Or maybe it’s the beer (?)
Under the gaze of the Thirsty Solis,
a pint of Heineken barely manages
to stay cool for > 300 seconds.
II
“… And pile it up more around the chest, belly & limbs.
… But spare the face!
You know I’m rather proud of my Persian Face!”
He asks me to help him
cover his body with the sunbaked sandy beach.
“Don’t turn this into a burial rehearsal now!”
I mock his idea of the sand-therapy.
~
The Scene / Act reminds me of the street hawkers
from back home—
roasting the corn-on-the-cobs & chickpeas
in the salty-sea shore-sand on their mobile-stalls.
III
“We won’t let you drown.
Trust Us!”
Monika & Aleksandra make a support
with their arms and teach me
how to make my body float on the water.
“When I was 9, I had drowned
in The Indus River on a picnic day-out,”
I stutter as I raise my legs &
let the buoyancy take charge.
IV
Today —
I’ve been rather unfaithful to myself:
I violated the vow of Literary-Celibacy
i.e. I broke the promise-to-self
to not to indulge in any poetry & poems.
Cigarette-Smoke Halos
for Family & Friendsafter The Muse Inspiring The Poet (La Muse Inspirant le Poete) by Henri Rousseau (France), 1909 C.E.
I
Mercury/Steel Cigarette-Smoke Halos for all my dreams.
Why shalt I feel
intimidated by an Israfel?*
II
Of late – poems are frequenting me
like an Ottoman Emperor frequents
his favourite mistresses in the harems.
III
Sometimes – I feel like/as if I’m a Socrates,
a Constantine, a Rumi, a Ghalib,
but without any fast acolytes.
Sometimes – I feel like/as if I’m a line
without any alphabet
and commas and apostrophes and periods.
Sometimes – I feel like/as if I’m an epic
that can’t be bound
by any spiral or saddle-stitched spines.
Sometimes – I feel like/as if I’m a thumb,
a forefinger, a middle finger on a hand
that can’t seem to be able to strangle the wind.
Sometimes – I feel like/as if I’m a medallion,
an untied knot
on an Eshfahan, a Kashan, a Farahan kilim.
Sometimes – I feel like/as if I’m a verse,
a couplet, a ghazal, a sonnet,
but without any regards in her chest.
Sometimes – I feel like/as if I’m a curse,
a prayer on a broken mother’s lips,
who lost a youngling to some war.
Sometimes – I feel like/as if I’m a Man
—with a Free Will—
but only as free as his idioms and narratives.
______________
*Israfel: One of the Four Archangels in the Islamic Theology. The named Angel is assigned with the duty of making the announcement for the arrival of Youm al Qiyama (The Judgement Day).Saad Ali (b. 1980 CE in Okara, Pakistan) has been brought up and educated in the United Kingdom and Pakistan. He holds a BSc and an MSc in Management from the University of Leicester, UK. He is a bilingual poet-philosopher and literary translator. His new collection of poems is titled Owl Of Pines: Sunyata (AuthorHouse, 2021). He has translated Lorette C. Luzajic’s ekphrastic poetry and micro/flash fictions into Urdu: Lorette C. Luzajic: Selected Ekphrases: Translated into Urdu (2023). He is a regular contributor to The Ekphrastic Review. He has had poems published in The Mackinaw and Synchronized Chaos. His work has been nominated for the Best of the Net Anthology. He has had ekphrases showcased at an Art Exhibition, Bleeding Borders, curated at the Art Gallery of Grande Prairie in Alberta, Canada. He has had poems featured in two anthologies of poetry—Poetry is a Mountain (2019) and This Uncommon Place (2019)—by Kevin Watt (ed.). Some of his influences include: Vyasa, Homer, Attar, Rumi, Nietzsche, Freud, Jung, Kafka, Tagore, Lispector, et alia. He enjoys learning different languages, travelling by train, and exploring cities/towns on foot. To learn further about his work, please visit: www.saadalipoetry.com; www.facebook.com/owlofpines.
Beautiful writing, Saad!