Black apple
Short story
By Arash Emamzadeh
January 22, 2002
The Iranian
there was nothing then a feeling in my heart
in my fingers an explosion a need the blue alley
your skin under my fingertips my eyes are closed you are so
warm the wind its warm my eyes are closed childish
games on the roof with the blue sky the smell of your
hair no rules i am so close but far still i want to
hold you forever i don want to grow up too much
feelings no words the blue alley and your smile where
am i the feelings in my stomach my throat i want to
keep you your hands fingers neck before or after i
dont know your eyes no please let me have this moment
let me keep you memories and feelings and time and
space no more words just feelings.
I fell.
!!??/-_-\??!!,,.,,!!??///-_-\\\??!!
The professor enters. She is wearing a suit and appears very professional.
I am sitting only 4 feet away from the board so that I can make appropriate
comments regarding each day's lesson. Participation is worth 15% of the
final grade. It is essential to achieve a high standing in the class.
I spent 79 dollars and 18 cents for textbook's 9th edition, its latest
edition. It includes numerous poems, and in special sections, many distinguished
poets have been interviewed by the editors of the book. I forget the names
of these poets but they are well respected within the circle of eminent
critics.
My professor has a PhD and has a thorough knowledge of the mechanics
of poetry. She champions the scientific study of poetry and its mechanical
aspects. She emphasizes the logical structure of a poem and its sociocultural
dimensions. Each day is to start with with a 5 minute period during which
we are to create a poem. This period will be followed, with no exceptions,
by a 40 minute lesson, and a 5 minute question period. The sequence and
timing of these events is very important, she says.
She later asked us to create a poem about the person in the next seat.
I do not remember the lady or the poem that I tried to write about her,
but I do remember using the words "flower", "beautiful",
"pink", and the kind of words that should make a lady feel very
special and loved, logically.
On the way home, I pass through a big garden with various flowers and
other colorful things that symbolize love and beauty, and should arouse
various positive emotions in a human being. I enter the dark alley which
leads to my house.
feelings
your summer dress running after you the
evening breeze,
Robert Frost.
No!!!
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