POETRY

444

444

Shake my hand, you bastard

12-Aug-2007 (one comment)
Your left hand
shadows your right like a blown gas valve
cocking the night >>>

POETRY

Momma

Momma, your boy, your only boy has reached what seems to be the end

12-Aug-2007
Momma I'm dying
Momma I'm fading away
The little twinkle in my eyes, the same one that's been there since I was a little >>>

FREE SPEECH

Stalin alive and well!

These people are bringing Iranians Democracy?

12-Aug-2007
Hossein Derakhshan's blog is suspended by Mehdi Khalaji! Apparently Khalaji having had worked for and under the current regime of Iran before he was revolutionized has brought his Mullah mindset to the United States. I by no means defend Derakhshan for I have observed his actions and his support for the current regime of Iran but am surprised at Khalaji. He is supposedly promoting a democratic Iran?! He too can write and express his opinion but to shut down a blog is nothing short what we observe in today's Iran where newspapers and blogs are shut down or filtered every day>>>

RIGHTS

All this hoopla over nothing

All in all, the NIAC human rights conference was definitely not sympathetic to the mullahs

12-Aug-2007
Recently, I have over and over again heard a small group of Iranians attack the National Iranian American Council (NIAC); each time with a new charge. At an information meeting about Goli Ameri's new lobby group, they accused NIAC of being too critical of the Bush Administration. Iranian monarchists have for several years accused the organization of being a front for the mullahs. And of course, pro-Israeli neo-conservatives like Kenneth Timmerman have been on NIAC's case for calling for diplomacy with Iran. So far so good. Any group that infuriates Goli Ameri, the neo-cons and the monarchists must be doing something right.>>>

LIFE

 In search of ...

When a bird can't fly it wouldn't know what she is missing but she knows something is missing

12-Aug-2007
I came home, took off my suite and took a cold shower hoping it would change my mood. It didn't so I drove to the nearest bar to have a drink and play a little. I was hoping it would be quite so I can just sit in a corner and no one would notice me but being Saturday night I thought wishful thoughts. The bar was full but I realized quickly the patrons were all regulars because they all looked like serious gamblers. That was perfect because they don't bother others and don't like to be bothered, after all they are there to "take the house down!" So I sat in the far end of he bar and ordered me a Stoley on the rocks with some olives on the side.>>>

STORY

اوهام!

خب گیریم که بوی کافور هم بیاید

11-Aug-2007
نمی دانم چرا بوی کافور رهایم نمی کند؟ از هر وسیله معطر کننده ای هم که دم دست دارم بوی تند و تیز کافور بیرون می زند. همه آن هائی را هم که می شناسم، که مراوده دارم، که می بوسم، که در آغوش می گیرم همین بو را می دهند.>>>

ART

Mystical suspense

Mystical suspense

Paintings

by Jacob Ebriani
11-Aug-2007

>>>

LIFE

Lena the bank teller

Her skin is choorook, her hands are shaking

11-Aug-2007
She has all white hair. Her skin is choorook, her hands are shaking. A tiny lady at least 80 years old, no joke. Her name is Lena. And she is working as a bank teller at Bank of America. I wonder how old she was when she first learned to use the computer? I am not comfortable when she calls me to her window because I have never dealt with a teller her age. I almost feel like she should not be here, that it's wrong and cruel for her to be working. But she is pretty quick, knows the job well and we move quickly. Of course I don't have a BofA account, and I am cashing a check, so she gets a chance to make a sales pitch to me.>>>

LIFE

Una noche de desierto

I will bury my face into your hair and smell it as if I am strolling in a rose garden

11-Aug-2007
One day we will make a journey to Iran together ... we will travel to Kerman and I will locate a little place with a particular energy level that I know of in the desert; a place where the falcon-hearted beings lay down to rest and draw energy form mother earth making their wings leaner and their hearts beat faster. Under the moon light, sounded by the desert spirits and our own genies as the witness for our passion, I will take my linen jacket off so you can lay on it ... and then ... I will feast on you as a desert lion feasts on a gazelle! I will look into your eyes and drown in the river of their sparkle, then gently kiss you.>>>

ITALY

Bellissimo

Bellissimo

Photo essay: Italians and their pets

by Farah Ravon
10-Aug-2007 (2 comments)

>>>

RAP

Ensejaam

Ey javoonaye doreye estebdad akhe ta key mikhad sedatoon darnayad?

10-Aug-2007
Tooye Sale Ensejam, khordim etteham Akhe darin az chi migirin entegham? Donya dare be soraat pish mire Amma too fekre inim kare man chish gire?>>>

TURKEY

Slander in black & white

What have you learned from living in a democracy?

10-Aug-2007 (one comment)
My observations were about Istanbul and a few other towns I visited and the people of Turkey. Now, when one compares Reza Shah to Ataturk, the differences are striking. On the one hand we have Reza Khan Gholdor, (surely there was a good reason why he was given this nickname) who put his foot on every piece of land, confiscated it for himself and his newly named Pahlavi family, and then distributed it. How noble of Reza Khan! History has taught us that he was a malovolent dictator, who was ruthless towards his opponents and in the end sided with the Nazis. Let us name some intellectuals, poets, high ranking men who were incarcerated, shot at or killed at the order of Reza Khan:>>>

POETRY

Ba behtarin arezouha...

I hope all your mornings will be shitty and all your evenings will be migraine filled

10-Aug-2007
I know you probably have a girlfriend. I am a jealous fool. Jealous. But what can I do? >>>

TRAVELERS

Barbari capital

Barbari capital

Photo essay: Tehran snapshots

by Ben Bagheri
10-Aug-2007

>>>

FRIEND

Azita, where are you?

Five years after Azita left Iran, I left for France; the war still was going on in Iran

10-Aug-2007
Azita was my best friend. No, actually she was my only friend in high school. Or the only one I cared about. She was Jewish, and when the Islamic revolution happened, she and her family left Iran for Israel. We were forbidden from sending mail to Israel, so I had to send my letters through another country. Her address changed a lot, and it was in Hebrew, an alphabet that looked to me like modern art or bent nails. My last letter to her returned as a lost letter after having traveled through many different countries. I always wondered what letters or numbers I had missed in writing her address.>>>

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