Shish-kabob aroma
Seduced me, together
With cucumber-yogurt,
Both wrapped in a fluff Lavash
Hugging the healthy tarragon.
“till,
I came across Big Mack and
Strawberry shake in a threesome
With crispy fries,
My new adopted home,
What a fast-food paradise.
Homayoun Behzadie and the
Majesty of his miracle golden-head,
Hossein Kalani and that
Gazelle-like speed – mesmerized
My innocence and those
Never-returning years.
Long before Shaquille O’neal
And Kobe Bryant fights,
Long before super bowl
Dome or its pre-game
Chaos and or silly brawls,
I was a dreamer of a
Dream-like dream,
Chasing better tomorrows,
Just by going abroad,
So I can come back in glory.
Thunderstorm picked
Up one wind at a time,
A time’s seductive breezes –
By transient revolutionary lines.
One became a hardcore
With Che-Guevara in-mind,
One was the enemy,
A royal monarchist who had
To vanish by guillotine or mines.
The camp of revolutionaries
Fell into ideological disarray
When counter-revolutionaries
Plotted in secret at
The imaginary lines.
I asked the prophets
To give me strength
To be faithful to my mother’s
Milk-in-my-mouth or
My my father’s wisdom that I took
An oath to stand by;
I am not a boat-people man
Claiming this new land a gift
From heaven to earth.
I dazzle the crowd with occasional
Teardrop,
Saying your tribe is lacking spirit
And I am a nameless messiah.
When wind blows from East
To West, I am a child at loss,
Neither Palin nor Biden
Reflects what is in my heart,
I am a dreamer in chase of a Kite,
A prince whose house has burnt down;
Yet his heart expands beyond time
And space when his courage makes
His soul look deep inside.
Then, any dark night hole becomes
A palace filled with light,
Whichever plateau or height,
I am strolling in the night.
I am as true as my own
Heart, regardless which
Chef is in the house,
As long as my wounds and
Scars are not covered
in disguise, blinding me
That a prince has never
To hide.
Farhad
