Nihilist pigeons of Robson Square (three poems)

persian westender
by persian westender

The wise man in my head whispered:

“Let’s get off all the poisons inside you...

You will be free...”

I got rid of all the poisons inside me

All cleared.

I saw nothing has left of me

I was all gone


Even the wise man in my head



Sure you can have pepperoni pizza for your dinner

Or why not a bowl of Chinese noodle

With lots of teriyaki sauce

..Or may be spaghetti with shredded mozzarella on top

But no matter what we get for dinner

Our late night supper is one thing: Stereotype

And hey! We’re gonna regurgitate it all night and day.




There are many pigeons on Robson Square

So what?? I tell you what!

Three of those pigeons are philosophers

They are nihilists

Shake their heads

When watching people and commotions around

Along with the political protests in Robson square

You may not have heard it

But one of those pigeons always says:

“It is easy to become an intellectual elite,

But it is so hard to get rid of the illusion...”


Recently by persian westenderCommentsDate
Nov 25, 2012
میهمانیِ مترسک ها
Nov 04, 2012
چنین گفت رستم
Oct 28, 2012
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persian westender

I agree

by persian westender on

That's the better choice of word.



Azadeh Azad


by Azadeh Azad on

She is great.

I would translate the last line as:

  • Keep the flight in mind,
  • The bird is mortal.

(parandeh mordanist)



persian westender

Keep the flight in mind....

by persian westender on

Many thanks for reading dear Azadeh.

I also like this one from Forough:


I feel sad,

I feel blue.

I go outside and rub my fingers

on the sleek shell of the night.

“I see  that lights of contact are blocked,

All lights of contact are blocked.”

“Nobody will introduce me to the sun,

Nobody will take me to the gathering of doves.”

Keep the flight in mind,

The bird may die.


Azadeh Azad

Dear persian westender

by Azadeh Azad on

I enjoyed your poems, especially the last one. Thank you.

Your "nihilistic pigeons" remind me of Forugh's "bird" who "did not read newspaper."


The bird said:

"What smells, what sunshine, ah!
Spring has come
and I will go searching for my mate."

The bird flew away from the portico's edge
like a message, it flew off and disappeared.

The bird was small
the bird did not think
the bird did not read newspaper
the bird was not in debt
the bird did not know people.

The bird flew through the air
above the red lights
at the height of oblivion
and experienced madly
blue moments.

the bird, ah, was only a bird.