In Dust I Sing
Francis Brabazon
Paperback, $11

      Of the more than 12 books that “Baba’s Poet” wrote, sadly, fewer than half are still available. In Dust I Sing is the only book of ghazals written by Francis, and he says... “Why Meher Baba put the idea of an English ghazal into my head can only be explained in terms of whim—that He had a whim for a new kind of poetry for His entertainment; a poetry with its root in the perfection of Hafiz but contemporary in language and image, and which would be the ideal vehicle for the new dialogue of the Lover and the Beloved which will be the New Humanity.” Francis was Australian down to his toenails, and while he has written some of the most exquisitely beautiful words of praise to the Beloved, the Australian slang and the rough words of the ‘Outback’ wanderer come through in many of his works. You’re in for a shock if you are expecting the silky-soft love sonnet...
“I suppose my gallows humour will not be much relished by those who like the bare facts of love clothed and embellished. I am referring to those who prefer tea-talk wayfaring to the raft and the wave, to blistered feet and sightless staring. But hasn’t Jesus already told them, Not peace, but a sword? Do they expect less than death from this Man of the Silent Word? Jesus was God Absolute—but the Same One here now must turn over a vaster anti-God acreage with His plough. By God! This is no time for talking about how sweetly love grew; you escape the bombs, don’t look back—this Man will be stalking you. For what else do you think He comes to this rotten muck-heap of places? Do you think He enjoys our stinking breaths and desire swollen faces? When you talk tea-talk about love and the Beloved you would own, Each verb you use is a hammer on each coffin-nail of a noun.”

Contemporary in language and image indeed!