Poetry |
Of loss
August 29, 2005
iranian.com
Give me the tongues of those silenced
necks hanging like fruit
Refusing to layer cakes of melted flesh with the saved faces
of friends
Softened by the humanity of their end
Give me the tongues of silenced necks hanging like fruit
Smeared over the grass of salvation
Through the thin fog of a city separated by its own
roofs shaped like hope
Using words orbited by greed and pain
Starving an ebony land rotting to reborn
Through storms of wheat;
Bright green grains flash like juggled missiles
While eyes itch burdened by the reality cuffed to the pages of
history
Screaming from the gutted mouths of boys
Crying over planks tied to flag poles hanging from dorm room
balconies
Silenced by revelations of birthday song and weeping relatives
overseas
Sons peeled away from refined women to protect cities of "refined
death"
Moving along like black and toothless beetlesó
Deposits of pillow covers mirror their naked bodies
Absorbing the soiled rays of the sun swirling with
brown cigarette smoke filtering the sky
Hooded lips howl like automatic weapons
Creating toxic alloys from petrified renouncements for wars lost
With renouncements full of The Afterlife from their vapor figures
Floating through bazaars with the ease of beauty
Sobbing in the closets of regret
Lost in the trap of family
Dismembered like burnt-offerings
Scraped from toast to fertilize these arid and bottomless gulches
of worship
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Arash Daneshzadeh
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