POETRY

رويــداد
30-Jun-2008 (4 comments)
دستی به هوا رفت و دو پيمانه به هم خورد
با آن دو دل عاشق و ديوانه به هم خورد

دستی به هوا رفت و نگاهی به نگاهی
پيچيد و دو دست و دو دل و شانه به هم خورد
>>>

POETRY

 هیس هیس ِ نجابت
25-Jun-2008 (6 comments)

پرتابِ نقل وُ سکه وُ پولک
سنجی که به هم میکوبند
و دَفی که در هوا میگردد
دست به دست.
گفتم: - صدای پرتا بِ سنگ می آید.
گفتند: - نوای مبارک باد است این >>>

POETRY

Clueless
24-Jun-2008 (2 comments)
Clueless, I entered the lab
on such a beautiful day
chatting with the radiant girl
playful and pregnant.
A little voice nagged
at the back of my head:
Remember the last time
we acted this way? >>>

POETRY

The day the Iranian super got robbed
15-Jun-2008 (2 comments)
Hello Majid-Agha, what happen here?
Why is the glass on the front door shattered?
Oh, seek shelter in god, we were held up!
It was a young man and he had a gun
He was wearing a mask
He locked us in and took the money and the keys >>>

TANZ

سگ هار
12-Jun-2008 (4 comments)

پس می دهم
این تحفه، این توله
این هدیه ی زنده را
که برای نوه ام خریده ام
و مثل سگ پشیمانم
پس می دهم
این توله سگ را

>>>

POETRY

Beyond the Flesh
09-Jun-2008 (16 comments)
How far beyond the flesh can you go?
How are your taste buds trained? By Coca-Cola, chewing gum and cereal? Or by bourbon, tobacco and the taste of a woman?
How does your breath smell like? Fire or a none-smelling fart?
How soft are your lips? Soft as an angel’s feather or coarse as used sandpaper on wood?
Are you repulsed by sagging breasts and do not see the beauty of a bosom?
Are you turned off by wrinkles around her eyes and miss the sparkle in those eyes? >>>

POETRY

Homeless in Venice
03-Jun-2008
I am Hassan, the woodcutter
With the smiling sun on my shoulders
And the crying rain in my ears.
Running in the muddy alleys
I come from Isfahan
Barefoot and half-naked
With two dancing axes on my back >>>

POETRY

بی خانه در ونیس
03-Jun-2008 (2 comments)

منم حسن تبری
با لبخند آفتاب بر دوش
و مویه ی باران در گوش.
از کوچه های گل آلود اصفهان
می آیم دوان، دوان
پابرهنه و نیمه عریان
با رقص دو تبر بر شانه
و شور یک دیوانه: >>>

FOR HILLARY

Meet Keiko

Why the idea of “obliterating” seventy million people does not make you shudder?

29-May-2008 (14 comments)
Twenty Years ago, when we first moved to St. Louis
I met this lively graduate student named Keiko
After twenty odd years, it is hard to recall details beyond her round face framed by short shiny black hair
But I remember the way she moved through the building with a combination
of agility and grace, in bursts of short successive moves -
much the way robins would explore a tree (without making noise or knocking anything down) >>>

POETRY

"دل بسته اي ؟‌"

در حلقه هاي مبهم ِ هشياري و ديوانگي

26-May-2008 (one comment)
درچشمهی ِ ديوانگي
در زجر ِ ناهنجار ِ اين آوارگي
در ساحت ِ بيگانگي
پايان ِ دورافتادگي
برديده اي ؟
برعمق ِ اين گم گشتگي
خنديده اي ؟ >>>

RESPONSE

The Obliterator

I remembered the innocent faces of our little nephews and nieces with a sparkle in their eyes

22-May-2008 (5 comments)
A while ago, the Hilarious Hillary “ate sugar” and threatened to obliterate Iran, the land that has given so much to the world. These contributions along with other images began to haunt my distressed head in seemingly endless spurts. I remembered the day when my friend Ali was driving me around in New York City and I had stopped him in front of the biggest post office in the world to proudly photograph the words of Cyrus the Great that adorns the building: “Neither snow, nor rain, nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.”>>>

POETRY

Camping in Big Sur

The eyes are full of smoke / The lips full of words

17-May-2008 (2 comments)
My tent is small
I put my boots outside
When I put them on in the morning
My socks become all wet
I look at my neighbor's huge tent
and his dog behind the screen door
Grinning at me
>>>

POETRY

در اردوی «بیگ سِر»*

با خنده ی جرقه ها

17-May-2008 (one comment)
چادرخواب من کوچک است
چکمه هایم را بیرون می گذارم
صبح که آنها را به پا می کنم
جورابهایم خیس می شوند
به سراپرده ی همسایه نگاه می کنم
و سگی که از پسِ درِ توری
به من پوزخند می زند
>>>

POETRY

Aim high
15-May-2008 (one comment)
A prince, a hero
a healer, a rebel,
what they had in common
was need.
The prince wanted
a world to see,
the hero his people
to finally free, >>>

POETRY

Mother’s Day
09-May-2008 (9 comments)
Before I became “Mother”
Worry was just a word
Sleep meant long, peaceful nights
Didn’t need fairytales, lullabies or sweet lies
Before I encountered motherhood
Tiny fingers wouldn’t tug at my heart
Someone else’s pain couldn’t make me die >>>