Poetry

It's called a crush!

The rain has just stopped
I’m sitting on a bench
Listening to the music
Played by the notes of the fountain on the campus
I look at the water
It used to be very calm
Until someone turned it on
Now it jumps to the sky
And makes a free fall to the ground
>>>

Shall I light another cigarette?

What should I do? Go out and face them under the pretence of lighting another cigarette? Or shall I hide and try to save what can be saved? What would it serve and to what end would I face them anew? Another round of me pushing them back, showing my own teeth and they barking at me as lose dogs, once beaten by me in the past? Naaaa …. I chose to stay in. No point in indulging them a re-run of our past encounters.>>>

با خودم به بهانه ی زهرا...

اعتراف می کنم که هيچ وقت نتوانستم هيچ خبری و گزارشی و نوشته يی را در باره ی زهرا تا آخر بخوانم. هميشه وقتی شروع به خواندن می کردم بغض گلويم را می گرفت. و می ترسيدم. می ترسيدم که گريه کنم. نه اين که از گريه کردن می ترسيدم. نه. هيچ وقت از گريه کردن نترسيده ام من. امّا آن که زهرا را کشت، می خواست که من گريه کنم. و من نمی خواستم. درست به خاطر اين که او می خواست. اين اندازه را امّا در سرگذشت زهرا خوانده ام که او همسن انقلاب است. انقلابی که آخوند آن را نربود؛ بلکه خود ما آن را به او تقديم کرديم.

>>>

This is new

i see you in my dreams
I ike a lover returning to his beloved
without warning
but with the assurance that his presence
will evoke nothing but joy
your voice shakes my heart
surpassing my expectations

>>>

The "Inevitability" Of "Fate"

In All "Earnest" ..
Where does "God" End ..
And, "Man" Begin ..

To "Those" Of "Great" Faith ..
The "Sovereignty" Of God Is "Obvious"
Without Whose "Plans" ..
Nothing "Exists" ..

>>>

I paint

last night I began to paint.
I painted and painted all night until
she opened her eyes and ran out screaming.
My choice of canvas may have shocked her.
I thought it would be a good idea to paint us,
a beautiful portrait of us.
From when things were good and beautiful and real.
I started looking for something to paint on and
that’s when I started to paint us inside my eyelids. >>>

مرگ پدر بزرگ

ساعت 7 روی تخت "برادر کوچک" ام بیدار شدم
محروم از خواب، بوی ملایم مرگ را شنیدم 
از جا پریدم، یک ساعت دیگر امتحان روانشناسی داشتم
باید به خانه ی خودم می رفتم برای صبحانه و حمام
اما هنوز وارد خانه نشده، تلفن زنگ زد
پدرم بود که می گفت بابابزرگ در بستر مرگ است
شماره ی اصفهان را گرفتم و به خانه اش زنگ زدم
و از مامان بزرگ پرسیدم آیا بابابزرگ به ابدیت پیوسته؟
>>>

Red earmuffs

My father brought them from America
They were soft and cozy
Red on the outside and white inside
With a green headpiece in between.
We were sitting in the "turret room".
Father wore a sheepskin Caucasian cap.
His eyes were opened wide
And his hands covered his ears
Looking like a wolf in the snow. >>>

Genesis' days

When my beloved takes a goblet, >>>

A chair

A chair is not only
Recipient of exhaustion
It is not a decorative ornament
And not only a sitting requirement

A chair is a station for a tryst
A relieve for fatigue
Receive secret or open mission
For exhausted feet to revive and regain
>>>

Salaaam Iran

My road to Iran began with the flames of September 11 and led me two years later to Forough's poem on light. And so it has been a road suffused in light, albeit two different kinds of light. The history of Iran has been suffused in light but it has also been veiled in darkness. I am an Eastern European Jew so I know well the ways of both darkness and light, and still I believe that Light will find the way >>>

Fal-e-Ghahveh

Why are you scared of me?
You say it is my eyes
But my darling, my eyes are only a reflection of yours
Why will you no longer hold me?
You say it is my pain
But what pain I have, you have given me
It dripped from you and I drank it up
It sustains me
And as I look down into the cup from which it pours
At the dark residue it leaves burned at the bottom >>>

Mothers and their sons: Secret whispers

Horse-drawn carriage
Skids the stone,
Cemetery's birds sing a
Redeeming but drunken atone.

White-haired woman
Bends on her hump,

From beneath the son says,

"I am safe and sound." >>>

Lost

You walk beside my life
Looking ahead
Lost in what has to be
What can’t be
And I look at a last love
Looking in despair
Turning away from us
And disappearing in the midnight.
>>>

Dried Rose Petal

The girl whose journal was full of poems and rose petals
Turned out to be a cruel hunter
Chasing young prey
To taste still shaking young flesh
On her cherry lips
With her heart hidden in her grandma’s chest
Mask on her face
Sucking nectar like a butterfly >>>