Tag Archives: poetry review

Hafiz – Poem 32

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 32:

While you slept
The caravan has moved on

The desert is up ahead

Some thoughts:

As an intense sleeper in need of a ridiculous amount of sleep, this poem annoys me at the literal level. But if I look at it a bit more metaphorically, I can see what the poet is saying. We all must sleep, rest, withdraw from the world at times for healing and downtime. But isolation can become a habit if we let it. It is peaceful in our own tent, with our soft furnishings, and our quiet comfort zones. Outside is the noisy bunch with their opinions and foibles and, sometimes, annoying ways. But there are important qualities to community that we must remember to consider. It is only through community that we grow as people who can empathize with others, connect for companionship, and be nurtured and remembered. And in Hafiz’s time, there was safety, especially when travelling through the desert. It could be very dangerous to find yourself alone in a wilderness landscape. You might not survive. I suppose it is a good warning/reminder to find balance in our isolative ways if we are prone to such patterns.

My Poem 32:

While we slept,
energy continued to transition
from typewriters into clouds,
from broadcast to streams,
from nickels and dimes into crypto,
from desktop computers to quantum AI.

While we slept,
families continued to transition
from mother, father, two children to
whoever can cobble a life together,
whatever the gender expression
or lack thereof, or anywhere in between,
from white with white only to
beautiful hues of blended shades.

While we slept,
societies continued to transition
from patriarchal oppressive regimes
to the beginnings of equality and inclusion,
from workplace discrimination to
women in leadership roles, wheelchair ramps,
climate change and mental health awareness.

While we slept,
religious institutions continued to transition
from exclusive to more inclusive,
from in person only to online participatory options,
from fundamentalist to deconstructionist,
from male-only leadership to some women in high places.

While we slept,
culture continued to transition
from consumerism to minimalism,
from the status quo to conversations about privilege,
from fat-shaming to body positivity,
from nature destruction to environmental consciousness,
from acceptance to accountability.

When we wake,
will we bury our heads in the sand
and demand a halt to change, a return to the past,
or will we lift our chins, with eyes wide open, minds alert,
mouths slightly agape, and join the caravan?

The desert is up ahead.
It is vast and wide, and we will be left behind
in our ruts of “we know best” and “tradition is all,”
while the great adventure of life moves on without us.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Hafiz – Poem 31

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 31:

Our hands are short

The dates
High up on the tree

Some thoughts:

There are so many different directions this poem could go. The dates, out of reach so high up the tree, could represent a goal, a desire, nourishment, or a promise of sweetness, joy deferred. In Hafiz’s Persian culture, they would have been a staple, part of many recipes as a sweetener. The inability to reach the fruit could represent our human limitations, our need for community, or the recognition that we must learn to think outside the box. There are ways to get to the fruit that don’t involve growing longer arms. We can climb, get a ladder, shake the tree, wait until it gets ripe enough to fall, ask for help from others, etc. Perhaps the poem is asking us to ponder our needs and determine what it is we most need to learn from the situation. Do we need to develop patience and wait for the fruit to fall? Do we need to learn to ask for help and get support from our community? Do we need to develop some initiative and do some problem-solving to get our needs met? Do we need to take a class in date harvesting to gather more information about our dilemma? Like I said, there are many ways to look at this and any of them could be a great lesson, depending on our circumstances.

My Poem 31:

I want to be rich enough to pay
my bills on the day they are due,
if not early each month.

I want to be so rich, the only thing
I worry about is who to help next
with the extra money I’ve earned.

I want to be the kind of rich
that goes grocery shopping
without tabulating a total as I go.

I want to be richer than it takes
to retire all the great-grandparents
in our family so they can rest.

I want to be the richest person
who still drives a Toyota Camry
and lives in a multi-generational home.

I want rich written all over my receipts
for paying off every school loan
for every relative and friend I know.

I want richer than rich opportunities
to flow into every household of every
human on earth who wishes others well.

I want to richify our schools, hospitals,
libraries, daycares, nursing homes,
and animal shelters with infinite abundance.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Hafiz – Poem 29

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 29:

Along the Way of Love

Worldly rule is
A parasite

Some thoughts:

I had to ponder this one a while and use resources to check my ideas against. “Along the Way of Love” feels like it is talking about our path or spiritual journey throughout life. My husband’s martial art talks about “Budo,” which means roughly, “The Martial Way.” Some spiritual practices call it “The Walk” or “The Straight and Narrow Path” or “The Hero’s Journey.” Common threads in all of them are ideas of practice, movement, alignment, and surrender. In the Tao Te Ching, Dao is “The Way” and is the underlying current shaping our reality or the natural flow of our existence. The Bible depicts Jesus as “The Way” and a life patterned after his love, sacrifice, and humility is the ideal for Christians. In Hinduism, Marga is the path and Dharma is “cosmic order, right action, and duty aligned with one’s nature.” In Buddhism, The Noble Eightfold Path includes right speech, right action, right livelihood, and right mindfulness. Many Indigenous traditions speak of “Walking in Balance”, in beauty, right relationship, and balance with the land, ancestors, community, and spirit.

Any of these examples works perfectly with the rest of the poem because it is saying that, essentially, any outside force that tries to control “The Way” does so by feeding on us. Outside powers like governments, religious authorities, ego, systems that dominate, or hierarchies that control need someone to rule over. They survive by draining the life and spirit of their hosts. They cannot exist independently from us. Power that depends on control is a parasite. They require dominance, fear, maintaining an image, etc. If we are truly traveling The Way, we are striving for equality, love, surrender, vulnerability, and humility, all things that are opposites of ego-driven constructs.

On a more personal level, if we are trying to walk The Way of Love, it is not in alignment to act parasitic. Are we trying to control people around us? Are we trying to control outcomes, narratives, opinions, or events? Love does not try to control others. Love flows freely. Do we try to dominate conversations when we want to get our way instead of letting the conversation be fair and two-sided? Do we use our emotions to bully others into doing what we want, rather than keeping ourselves balanced and in check and recognizing that we are using manipulation as a tactic? Control clings, fears, threatens, traps, insists, interferes, and demands. Nothing that tries to control is love.

My Poem 29:

The plasmodium falciparum
is the deadliest parasite
for humans,
as far as we know.

Over 600,000 people die
every year from malaria
caused by these tiny
little one-celled
creatures who fly
through the air on winged
mosquito ladies
from one human host
to another,
multiply
in our livers,
then burst open
our red blood cells,
which we would prefer
were kept intact.

Their feasting and multiplying
is incongruous
with our well-being,
their only goal
multiplication.

For them the glorious bursting
of our cells is like fireworks,
celebratory blasts
releasing new generations
into the river
of life (our bloodstream)
where they hope to be a lucky
chosen one that will be sucked
into the sky
and helicoptered to a new host,
where their descendants
will begin again.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Hafiz – Poem 28

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 28:

Last night
In the Alley of the Tavern
The local imam
With his perennial prayer rug on his back
Was carried out on somebody else’s back

Some thoughts:

I love this poem. It is a gentle reminder that we are all human. Anytime we put someone up on a pedestal, we are bound to be disappointed because people are flawed. We are weak and faulty, even when we have good intentions. Not only that, we all get sick, have to attend to bodily needs like eating, drinking, sleeping, urinating, and taking a dump. The president, the king, nuns, the most famous movie star you’ve ever admired, Oprah—everyone blows their nose, coughs, sneezes, hiccups, burps, farts, and sweats. No one is immune from the humbling effects of being mortal. If the most religious person out there drinks too much, they are going to get drunk and have to be carried home—them and their religious book, prayer rug, or other holy items they have on them.

This reminds me of some haikus that speak to a similar idea of mortality leveling the playing field a bit if we begin to think people are too far above us:

A high priest empties his bowels in the withered fields—
—Buson

Ah, the bamboo shoots—a priest from Saga visits the outhouse
—Onitsura

sôjô ga no-guso asobasu higasa kana
in the middle of the field
the high priest’s parasol—
taking a dump
Kobayashi Issa

With no underrobes,
bare butt suddenly exposed —
a gust of spring wind.
Yosa Buson, 18th century Zen poet

Some more sayings I’ve heard that speak to the same concept:

  • We all bleed the same color.
  • Death is the great equalizer.
  • Everyone puts their pants on one leg at a time.

These are also good reminders to us, so we don’t start “thinking our poop don’t stink,” another saying to keep us humble. As a recovering alcoholic, I can never allow my mindset to be, “I can drink now. I can handle it.” If I begin to think that I can somehow control my body’s natural reactions to a chemical I put inside it, all hell will break loose eventually. I must be honest with myself and accept my limitations. And I sure shouldn’t be acting like I couldn’t fall off the wagon, like I’m somehow better than others or impervious to temptation. My “prayer rug” would be the delusion that I’m above all that and would never take another drink, no matter what. What’s that saying, “There but for the grace of God go I?” Ameen.

My Poem 28:

While the president
sits on the toilet to poop
are they still in charge?

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Hafiz – Poem 26

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 26:

How may

Fresh poetry

Come

To a heart heavy with sorrow

Some thoughts:

Some poets find great inspiration in the “depths of despair,” but Hafiz does not seem to be one of them. He, like me, questions how inspiration can flow when the heart is weighed down, when creativity is struggling to breathe. He yearns for something fresh, new, insightful, but is so filled with pain that there is nothing but old blood, recycled phrases, and stale thoughts. Fresh poetry represents the best words in the best order that arrive like an honored guest, flow through the poet, and onto the page. This kind of poetry he seeks cannot be forced or coerced into existence.

I don’t have the answer for Hafiz, since I, too, struggle with this question. But it feels affirming to sit in this space and ponder, with my fellow wordsmith, the slipperiness of inspiration and the heaviness of sorrow. We poets love juxtaposition and imagery. I wonder if Hafiz was inspired to write this little gem while in the depths of sorrow. If so, he has answered his own question by writing, despite the pain. I suppose the only way to know for sure is to experience it for myself.

My Poem 26:

How heavy is a heart?

Google says less than a pound,
but it depends on gender, age
cardiovascular health, and body size.

I say it depends on how much
what is lost meant to the heart
that must continue to beat.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Hafiz – Poem 23

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 23:

Strive to be truthful

& the sun will be born

From your breath

Some thoughts:

I love that Hafiz is not demanding perfection, but the striving for truthfulness. It is the progress toward integrity and spiritual alignment that is the thing. The working toward that truthfulness can be hard. It takes effort to be sincere, to say the hard things when the soft things might be easier, to remain steadfast when on the hotseat. Pushing through those moments becomes the clarifying piece of the puzzle that builds the habit of honesty.

Only when we are turning the soil of our souls can the dawn rise from within us. Truth creates a reality where beautiful life can be lived each day with a clean conscience. It is through our breath that we speak forth words, which is the main way we communicate. Life is in the breath. Is it so radical to speak truth, rather than propaganda, lies, distortions, accusations, and misinformation? Apparently so. Hafiz says striving to speak truthfully ends the dark night and renews the morning with promise and hope. It is enough to bring life.

My Poem 23:

Day breaks,

revealing a rising sun

which was there all along,

merely waiting for us to wake up.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Hafiz – Poem 22

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 22:

Whether I’m good or evil

Mind your own business

Everyone will harvest

What they’ve sowed

Eventually

Some thoughts:

This one is self-explanatory. There doesn’t seem to be much symbolism that needs to be uncovered. The metaphor of a harvest from what people have sowed in life is a rather tried and true example most people are familiar with. Sow/do evil, evil will reap you eventually. Shakespeare said, “These violent delights have violent ends.” The Bible in the book of Matthew says some version of, “Live by the sword, die by the sword.” People doing messy things will eventually get pulled under by that messiness. Mind your business.

I absolutely do not think Hafiz was up to no good. But that is his whole point. His destiny and relationship status with God is no one’s business but his. If everyone was focused on their own spiritual walk, they would not have time to be busy bodies. He’s saying, “You do you,” nearly 700 years ago. And it is sage advice that still holds up.

My Poem 22:

Mind your business
when everyone’s busy
getting themselves in trouble.
Mind your business
when other people seem
to be having more fun than you.
Mind your business
when the gossip gets juicy
and you’re tempted to share.
Mind your business
when your magnificent opinion
has not been requested.
Mind your business
when it doesn’t concern
you or yours in any way.
Mind your business
when you’re bored or looking
for dramatic entertainment.
Mind your business
when to be in the middle
don’t make no sense.
Mind your business
when you don’t know
the whole story nohow.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.