Shall: Ghazals

Sheila Martindale is poetry editor of Canadian Author and Bookman and
the author of No Greater Love.

Ghazals, unlike haiku or sonnets, are hard to define. The form is an
ancient Persian one, written in couplets, and depending on whom you ask
they can rhyme midline, have end words repeated, have the couplets
relate to each other, or all of the above—to mention only a few
variations. The 54 ghazals in this collection are in couplet form, but
while some of them follow a theme, many are random lines with seemingly
no connection to each other. So if you are looking for meaning, a
beginning, and an end, this volume is not for you. However, if you love
words and images, and are prepared to let the poems carry you where they
will, Owen’s work will have appeal.

The first part of the book, “Portal,” explains in prose how the
poems came to be written after Owen was beset by a mysterious illness
for which there was no name and no treatment. Following these
explanations are the poems themselves. They are lyrical, challenging,
moving, and at times annoying, but never dull. Take “3/4 length,”
for example: “Stones of light cast on the carpet. / Words, their
terrible sufficiency. / In the convent, all mirrors were sheeted / I
cannot remember to weed. / Have you learned how to answer / my violence?
In the drizzle, a hummingbird / darkens. My poems refuse your kindness.
/ You are younger than my very first fear.”