Sunday, December 25, 2005

The Religion of Blogging       [ghazal]

If I sought my religion in blogging         I found no salvation
what I lacked were concision in blogging   I had no vacation

here I'd repair       & beings would emerge   from the void!
is there marvelous vision in blogging?   or tacit damnation?

the rites & observances   seem     without structure or plan?
but ah!   as you fish into blogging       you catch inspiration

the beings who blog         have bodies   & families   & homes
yet while they're imprisioned in blogging   they're lost to creation

some blog only fact?     some blog from a fictional plane?     no!
can a person who's given to blogging   distinguish those stations?

was your blogging   a work in itself?     or merely a scaffold?
sighed a novelist who wished he were blogging "I lack high vocation!"

at the outset   she blogged with decorum   (a Sunday observance)
her acute intuition   in blogging       relieved life's frustration

the prodigy was blogging at four   by the time she were nine
web-surfing's cognition drove blogging   beyond expectation

were bloggers from Asia & Africa     flooding the market?
there's a natural attrition in blogging   from any location

blog to live   were a motto some tried to lend currency     yet
live to blog's the ambition for a blogophile's core transformation

who tells you the blogger does nothing but blog?   a gross rumor!
though the pizza commission found bloggers   a fine population

one day I had failed to blog             & fell   into slumber
I awoke with a frisson of blogging!   & a weird reputation

he blogged till the day he keeled over   & then he blogged more!
his astral perdition of blogging       had gripping persuasion

do the afterworld blogs     pertain to both   paradise & hell?
with the peri's permission   his blogging felt heaven's relation

sometimes I'd return to the real world   how quaint with surprise!
though it lacks the precision of blogging   what rich complication!

before there was blogging   it's said there were theatres & malls
but I'm sunk in the mission of blogging     with no extripation

to blog may at first appear trifling     so easy & spont!
till you glimpse the divisions of blogging   O hid information

the blogger discovered   the flow of his writing seemed endless
this is called acquisition in blogging   it's a strange fascination

thirty birds had assembled   they yearned to attain inner knowing
alas for the pigeon of blogging!   it required medication

the truth about blogging   involves a hard irony of language
in the deep recognition of blogging   there's no innovation!

pray how many lifetimes of blogging   do souls pass for penance?
weren't Dante's derision of blogging     ironically fashioned?

though blog is not cognate to build   yet the bloggers are makers
is the Trouvère's commission in blogging   sublime fabrication?

since fifty years gone   the television brought news   to the eyes
now the TV's position re: blogging     could face   degradation

the ears were oblivious to blogging   they slept in their hammock
while fingers were viciously blogging   like a Southern plantation

to sustain the near-twentyfour/seven   he'd get web-design gigs
his desktop had a window marked blogging & another marked ration

when he'd sought to join Bloggers Anon   it were late in the game
till a lucky remission in blogging     staved off depredation

my blog was arrested   the real world was throwing the book!
when I cut an incision in blogging   they granted probation

while I strove to abandon this web     its net held me tighter
if you seek for what isn't in blogging   do you find aberration?

now I walk on a physical sidewalk!   a sun's toward the west!
like every decision in blogging     it floats with elation

Ardeo logged off & walked out!     would he visit the movies?
not unlike the condition of blogging   they're seducing the nation




While the use of overstatement in some of these verses might be apparent, and although it could seem superfluous to mutter caveats along the lines of "the opinions expressed are not necessarily my own," yet one verse I find a bit too embarassing to let pass un-annotated, is the live to blog one. In fact of course, all creative artists and writers (and hence, bloggers) might be said to inhabit a shifty terrain regarding the varying demands of art and life. I would go so far as to allow that no single formulation is likely to do any thorough justice to this interestingly problematical subject matter. (That the particularity of blogging may be understood to stand in for the generality of art, might be inferred from the above.)

A shifty terrain, I said? Not in a seismic sense; the notion is more Borges, less tsunami. The ground in question is a ground of consciousness. If the focus that at times art-making seems to exact, is not ultimately divorced from the broader purposes percolating through the dark, ground matter of social nicety, economic obligation, interpersonal relation, societal enrichment, individual responsibility, psychological growth, fellow-feeling, or collective endeavor widely construed, along with such various other essential & tangential particles as might together comprise the complex coffee of life, well then, drink up, whatever the cup. In short, such motto-formulations could seem ludicrous on their face (proving tantamont to the charmingly insufferable). Though I suppose mottos are not the issue. The problem about robbing Peter and paying Paul, is that Paul, in the next round, tends to get his comeuppance. And (at times), a further quandary for the artist is, he has typically lost track of rounds, rings, scorecards, and perchance several other karmic necessities. He's either in a pickle or a stew (or more probably both), and had best look sharp, whether minding Ps or Qs. Furthermore, there are taxes, faxes, and the occasional telegram. One must make concessions (Caesar and so forth). I hope I have now made my position clear!

(ps: on 2nd thought, I guess the explanation is much worse than the couplet, ah well)

thirty birds : alludes to Fariduddin Attar's allegorical narrative poem The Conference of the Birds, a classic of Persian literature.


4 Comments:

Blogger Enemy of the Republic said...

Well, I think I am a member of this here religion--possibly a high priestess! Thanks for checking us out, by the way. You are welcome to join, you know. I didn't know how busy you were.

Sun Dec 25, 10:56:00 AM PST  
Blogger manoj krishna sanyal said...

excellent, thought provoking and with full marks!

cheers!

Mon Dec 26, 04:03:00 AM PST  
Blogger Chris Mooney-Singh said...

Is there any Bloggers Anonymous meeting I can long on to, so that I may prevent addiction in the future? Do I need a blog-buddy to get me in?

Signed

New-born blogger

Mon Dec 26, 04:19:00 AM PST  
Blogger david raphael israel said...

En--
certainly you're deep into the internalized blogo-culture. Incidentally, since your post, I revised the poem's first line. It had read: "I made a religion of blogging but found no salvation." That line is now cast in a more tentatie form (& not claiming credit for relion-making).

Manoj! thanks, but what are marks? ;-)

Sardarji! -- not to worry; I paint a dark picture no doubt, but far as I know, bloggers anon is sheer fabrication. btw, I'd like to emphasize this sher:

who tells you the blogger does nothing but blog? a gross rumor!
though the pizza commission found bloggers a fine population


(So perhaps pizza is a sign to watch out for.)
cheers, d.i.

Mon Dec 26, 04:44:00 PM PST  

Post a Comment

<< Home