Sukun: New and Selected Poems

by Kazim Ali

New and selected poems from celebrated poet Kazim Ali

Kazim Ali is a poet, novelist, and essayist whose work explores themes of identity, migration, and the intersections of cultural and spiritual traditions. His poetry is known for its lyrical and expressive language, as well as its exploration of themes such as love, loss, and the search for meaning in a rapidly changing world. "Sukun" means serenity or calm, and a sukun is also a form of punctuation in Arabic orthography that denotes a pause over a consonant. This Sukun draws a generous selection from Kazim's six previous full-length collections, and includes 35 new poems. It allows us to trace Ali's passions and concerns, and take the measure of his the close attention to the spiritual and the visceral, and the deep language play that is both musical and plain spoken.

[sample poem]

The Fifth Planet

Come, early summer in the mountains, and come, strawberry moon,
and carry me softly in the silver canoe on wires to the summit,
where in that way of late night useless talk, the bright dark asks me,
"What is the thing you are most afraid of?" and I already know
which lie I will tell.

There were six of us huddled there in the cold, leaning on the rocks
lingering in the dark where I do not like to linger, looking up at the
sharp round pinnacle of light discussing what shapes we saw―rabbit,
man, goddess―but that brightness for me was haunted by no thing,
no shadow at all in the lumens.

What am I, what am I, I kept throwing out to the hustling silence.
No light comes from the moon, he's just got good positioning
and I suppose that's the answer, that's what I'm most afraid of,
that I'm a mirror, that I have no light of my own, that I hang in empty space
in faithful orbit around a god or father

neither of Whom will ever see me whole. I keep squinting to try to see Jupiter
which the newspaper said would be found near the moon but
it's nowhere, they must have lied. Or like god, there is too much
reflection, headsplitting and profane, scraping up every shadow,
too much light for anyone to see.

Genres: Poetry

336 pages, Hardcover

Published September 5, 2023

About the author

Kazim Ali was born in the United Kingdom and has lived transnationally in the United States, Canada, India, France, and the Middle East. His books encompass multiple genres, includingthe volumes of poetry Inquisition, Sky Ward, winner of the Ohioana Book Award in Poetry; The Far Mosque, winner of Alice James Books’ New England/New York Award; The Fortieth Day; All One’s Blue; and the cross-genre texts Bright Felon and Wind Instrument. His novels include the recently published The Secret Room: A String Quartet and among his books of essays are the hybrid memoir Silver Road: Essays, Maps & Calligraphies and Fasting for Ramadan: Notes from a Spiritual Practice. He is also an accomplished translator (of Marguerite Duras, Sohrab Sepehri, Ananda Devi, Mahmoud Chokrollahi and others) and an editor of several anthologies and books of criticism. After a career in public policy and organizing, Ali taught at various colleges and universities, including Oberlin College, Davidson College, St. Mary's College of California, and Naropa University. He is currently a Professor of Literature at the University of California, San Diego. His newest books are a volume of three long poems entitled The Voice of Sheila Chandra and a memoir of his Canadian childhood, Northern Light.

Author photo by Tanya Rosen-Jones from Kazim Ali's press kit.

Reviews

[Barton Smock · Rating 5 out of 5]

Anxiety is the cure for anxiety. I want to worry on a corrected yesterday about the world. Belief, behave. The writing of Kazim Ali has always given my smallness a place to re-shadow the reshaped. But that’s the least of its giving. In Ali’s Sukun, the touched new and the pristine selected reveal themselves as differently chosen under the sameness of an art lit by the singularity of twinned inquiry. Such utterances are blessedly sick with a patience that approximates the space between god-distracted angels. Grave, ghost, gargoyle- by which clock does stillness begin to age? Longhand language and the would-be theft of silence. This is time’s early work.

[Terri · Rating 4 out of 5]

I plan to purchase this so I can continue reading it a poem at a time.

[Anna Leahy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow, quite a collection. So much packed in here to read aloud and ponder.

[Jade Wallace · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such a worthwhile read. I immediately recommended it to a friend.