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Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

Love has gone and left me and the days are all alike;


Eat I must, and sleep I will,—and would that night were 
here!


But ah!—to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike!

Would that it were day again!—with twilight near!

Love has gone and left me and I don’t know what to do;


This or that or what you will is all the same to me;


But all the things that I begin I leave before I’m through,—

There’s little use in anything as far as I can see.

Love has gone and left me,—and the neighbors knock and
 borrow,


And life goes on forever like the gnawing of a mouse,—


And to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow

There’s this little street and this little house.

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review of Sept. 15 and signed:

The poetry of Omar Khayyam was well known to me from childhood but these watercolor illustrations are so ethereal and filled with both delicate and vibrant hues that they transported me to a magical time that the poet was talking about! Truly an outstanding illustrated book! Very glad I bought the e book and the paperback! It is a tantalizing treasure to return to often during the humdrum days of life! The author ought to be congratulated on this outstanding work!

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/bennymkje

IMG_1611

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Book- VI The Tavern

“In this goblet of wine tears of all dead

Come to surface each sad thought left unsaid:

Among knots of men I sit alone with drink

And memories sink to the depths like lead.”

Why do we drink wine from the grapes? Some drink to forget and some drink to excess and many drink to wind down after a day’s labor. Whatever be the reason we shall never cut ourselves from our connection with the earth. We are merely drinking what is distilled from the earth. In other words we are recycling the idea ‘from dust to dust and ashes to ashes’  where our physical bodies and grapes are things apart from ideas each thing  represents.

In the quatrain(page 169) I have caught the nature of movement from the symbol of a goblet. This goblet filled with wine is the sorrow of living: bereavement, ruined hopes and lives on drift. First two lines denote  tragedy of life in ‘tears’  like bubbles are coming to the fore. By drinking what do we achieve? Do we not blunt the keenness of reality?  These memories are drowned as the last lines make  clear.

Here is an alternative reading:

Much as I seek ‘mong living and the dead

Upwells from this bowl their sighs left unsaid:

Among knots of men I sit alone with drink

And memories sink to the depths like lead.”

Upwells denote revolving earth whereby sighs of men are brought to surface

which with drink we send to oblivion.

I love the poetic form of rubaiyyat for it allows me to state an idea in its rigid rhyme pattern. If the first two lines express an idea the last two lines can be rephrased to give the idea far greater punch. On rereading my collection of quatrains I am surprised that I managed it rather well.

The Tavern as the metaphor for the world.

For those interested here is the link. http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/bennymkje

benny

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With all the hype of blood and gore IS bombed at the  box office.  From Syria to the Levant bad poetry is dead.  But good poetry still rocks! For instance in the Illustrated Omar Khayyam you can begin any where and still find on any page music of the soul.

Don’t take my word for it. Check out

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If those I loved were lost

The Crier’s voice would tell me –


If those I loved were found


The bells of Ghent would ring –

Did those I loved repose

The Daisy would impel me.


Philip — when bewildered

Bore his riddle in!

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The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.

It is the source of all true art and science.” ~ Albert Einstein

What greater mystery can we plumb than that of life? Is there any purpose or direction for which we have been programmed beforehand?

Life is a precious gift and every man and woman has the same gift to be used and it must make sense to our rational mind. So that window of opportunity to make yourself useful to you and others around you is narrow. Between birth and death is it not wisdom if you can throw light on or connect in some way to the mystery with the key you have? If we have been endowed with fine faculties to know ourselves why do we leave it to others? Do we make sense or make sense of what others tell as truth? Of what worth is the lamp of life it it were to be shown under the direction of others than to lead our own path? These are the questions I have covered in the Illustrated Omar Khayyam.

http://www.lulu.com/shop/benny-thomas/rubāiyyāt-2014/paperback/product-21805897.html

Illustrated paper back and ebook

http://www.lulu.com/shop/benny-thomas/the-illustrated-omar-khayyam/paperback/product-21799136.html    

 

http://www.lulu.com/shop/benny-thomas/the-illustrated-omar-khayyam/ebook/product-21799421.html

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If you must keep the curl of the unbroken wave

I shall take the whole  ocean with their swells

with staccato rhythm of ships tossed back and forth-

In their desperate flailing

I see spirit of man still daring to steer clear

And that is much more than oceans can bear.

I am a man and nothing less than whole continent

Is my haven.

If you must give this hour and show its hustle

And bustle of senses touching heights

I shall rather settle for this moment’s grace

Where my spirit is put to its rest

By both heaven and the earth.

I am a man nothing less than this indivisible

wholeness shall keep hour and the continent

Past time’s injury.

benny

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