Category Archives: Fame

“Sonnet in Honour of the Feast of `Izzat or ‘Might”

Bahá’ís throughout the world gather together this evening after sunset or tomorrow before sunset to commemorate
the First Day of the Month of ‘Izzat…

“Sonnet in Honour of the Feast of `Izzat
or ‘Might”


Judge well, my friend, adduce astutely;
perceive the might of any man,
By salutation there above it all, crowned,
a tarnished name become a lyric,
A word in apposition to the current legend; manipulated Pyrrhic
Hero whose deceiving ears–offending, apprehending what demands
Command the poll and elevate a fleeting circumstance and fame;
Even the rose is granted for the sake of a specific hour, a simple song
Fossilised before the melody has ceased when so easily as on
A clouded noxious day, all verbs clot and pronouns reign
In arrogance as thoughts turn to vapours and yesterday’s gilding
Rise and fall. With nothing distilled from achievement
For want of aging, accidents deemed bold distraction
spend themselves in vain
In youth while untried strength
sustains the untended pun
Of forgery and fortune. But see this blossom
in the deepest well
And dying sees his heaven
while he knows he lives in hell.

–Once

…from: A Raison in the Sun, Act III by Loraine Hansberry

…BENETHA
Love him?
There’s nothing left to love.

MAMA
There’s always something left to love.

Have you cried for that boy today? Not for yourself and the family because we lost the money. I mean for him. And what he’s gone through. And God help him. God help him, what it’s done to him. Child, when do you think is the time to love somebody the most? When he’s done good and made things easy for everybody? That ain’t the time at all. It’s when he’s at his lowest and he can’t believe in himself because the world’s whipped him so! When you starts measuring somebody measure him right, child. Measure him right. You make sure that you done taken into account the hills and the valleys he’s come through to get to wherever he is….

“They Move So Well”

“They Move So Well”

They move so well, they troll; they stroll
From this side of wagers to the other,
“Done!” and back again, smother
Goosesteps with mother’s deep affection, roll
The wholes in one and on a paper napkin map
Contingent strategies in sporting bars of habit and choice
Their viscosities of taste and controversy, simulated voices
Registering rapt concern from teleprompters
for whom it may concern that takes the rap
When leaders do not function as they should.
If what’s within the box is not ajar,
It will be soon, adagios of alarm
As phantoms masked in mortgages, just as whales, must surface
By the waters of eternal Babylon to their height in purpose.

“Earthbound”

“Earthbound”

Earthbound minds’ remains
Strike supernals in the memory,
The reputation; a canopy
Of means, a certain gravitas in gains
That whet the appetite to maintain
Forever somewhere in a panoply
Of names. Icons, but samples of history,
Such denizens breed to read as fame,
The goal—lingering doubt in shallows,
Negatives—whether goat or lamb, the standards
desiccated to utter nothingness reward
The ephemeral and untoward,
And no one seems the wiser. Shadows
With the shades seek belief from nihilists and wild cards.
Radiations of the body’s appetites leave little doubt
As to who will win and who, like others in the cast, remain invisible.
Endowments rule, and somewhat less than these, the indivisible
As the people say, my misery loves company and company its clout
And so the chosen court pariahs will attain their stations spiked to flout
A mutual advantage, powers and blessed assurance, the irresistible
Conclusions of equals in collusion, equals in delusion,
but at last sanctified within the ballot, tranquilized as sequels
In costumes of saints and mystics, mahatmas—and the truth is out,
Their stories told, perhaps—but as the sun blots out the stars,
So, too, their majesties are put to flight for want of oxygen. Soon
The latest, faintest, and first recite as advertised, and we delight
In gazing not through distances, but at the destination of the light
With origins counting billions in years while within this single room
We, the sods and consequences, lay inert beneath the silent moon.

“Imagination Styles the Face”


“Imagination Styles the Face”

Imagination styles the face of vanity that solves a thousand wrongs,
And no one guesses what’s behind the door.
Closer to the truth, the portal to escape closes just behind him; gore
And all that glitter exposed, tinsel moments in the early morning songs,
Playground glories among the boys and toys, reasons to declare
An eminence–petulant and sulking–ever hamartia, ever cool,
Who stalks the school yard–recess, lunch, and after school
And preys on younger lambs who cannot see nor dare
To think beyond the present master and the class
To one day leaving what was never meant to be
A permanent abode but stepping stones to what only seems
To be a day’s delay until the graduation fantasy, and one more hall pass.
“But, then again, I never meant to study, people…

I never meant to pass the test!”

“Dinner’s at Six”

“Dinner’s at Six”

Dinner’s served at six, and so’s the evening news;
The writing’s clearly on the wall and while the Constitution stalls, the gist
Of nothing from nothing sticks to banquet tables, chairs, and the guest list
Of the average home in Baghdád while the views
Expressed in measured fractions there amongst the factions
In the House feed increasingly on mediocrity and courtesies of strangers
Sporting cellphones where reporters point the finger at the signs of danger,
Motorcades, and armies on an ever trivialised darkling plain. Reactions
Blog communication lines of press and presidents who bear such striking
Poses and resemblances to Dr. Goebbels and his precedents that modern sooth-
Sayers need not wonder where all of this must lead. As Congress votes for truths
To fit pragmatic means, the ends, of course, are guaranteed from spiking
Needs dispensed in sparkling cocktails served each night along with dinner,
Presidential dim sum, cartoons, genocide, and Oprah classed as winners.