A Merit in Short


The travelling dancers were three or four. Strolling in the streets of Tehran from another time. This could have been a time from the future; didn’t feel like one from the past.

On this sunny summer day which felt as delicate as a day of spring, a very handsome Ayatollah was passing us by, with a leash in his hand, accompanying this absolutely handsome grey-hazel German shepherd. One look from his meticulously colored eyes of caramel would fill you up with serenity and certain air of being lost.

Only a blink away, his turban along with his robe disappeared for some reason and underneath, this beautiful Israeli-looking angel sent down to earth from heavens came to existence. All the divine mystery in him was complemented by the final touch of that mauve sweat-shirt which perfectly rested on his godly figure.

He let go of the dog; it felt like he wanted to set him free for some fateful chase. One could sense fear and liberation simultaneously, as if awaiting a moment of rebirth, an instance of oblivion.

The dog ran off in slow motion towards the rays of the sun; leaving it all behind. The man looked determined and calm. He never looked us in the eye; he only looked away and uttered these words with his lips completely still:

The offspring of all that is on your mind, is right here in you reality. You become it; you have become it. you are it.

And then he fucking faded!



The monster is my friend,
Byronic hero is my love,
All filth I can behold;
And desires I can quench.

My sympathy for lust,
This schizophrenic love,
All tendency for bile-
Feels far from bizarre.

Eccentric is my name;
I’ve accepted me that way.
Except for one or two-
Of my many many selves.

I’m the liar whom to eyes-
Of yours does lie with ease.
I’m the angel who has wings-
You can’t see; it’s very dark.

I’m a thief, your trust I steal-
The moment that you blink.
I’m the masked man-
A plentiful of masks!

I’m selfish as narcissus,
And lonely as a cloud-
Whose fate is buried deep-
In Poseidon’s darkened realm.

I’m the magic that there is;
In drops of blood & waxing moons.
I’m the ominous attendant-
Of this epoch of beguile.

This life of mine, this lie-
It’s time I threw in fire.
This me on end I’ve dragged-
It’s time I dropped and died.

It’s a legacy of awe,
Forgetfulness of fish.
It’s piracy of hope,
It’s not real, nor is it not.

Talking Closet


I used to think-
You’re gay…

Or that you-
Just didn’t know-

If you were gay-
Or weren’t gay.

Today, one thing I know:
That you really never cared…

With who you laid-
In bed.

Didn’t matter whatsoever;
Never had.

Inhibitions were the reason;
Impediment and fear.

Why you wouldn’t-
Do the things…

For which your soul-
Would yearn.

You awaited-
Certain favor…

So that you-
Could fall in love?

You waited-
For a lifetime…

So that someone else-
Would do…

What you’d wanted-
For an era,

What you’d wished for-
To be done.

They did it now-
They won.

A battle-
Of their own.

What happened-
To your days?

Your countless minutes-
Of the drown…

Your stifles of desire-
Your stranglements of love.

They won, they won-
They won.

And you, my friend-
Come on!

You do know-
What you want.

Music of Rubbles


Still lost-
In rubbles of the thought.
A rebel was I not?

Doing things that I have done…
Very safely doing none.

Debris I am; remains.
Broken bricks,
A walk of shame.

Trying every moment;
Doing things I only know.

Hiding things I feel,
Observing things within.

What I need to know,
The stuff I have to find,
Paths I shall on walk,

‘Where?’ I ask
And ‘when?’

I need things whereon I fall,
Things that walk.

I need to never need,
Never using-
Words like this.

But that I do.

Cause I’m rubbles,
You remember?

I’m no maverick-
At this time.

So should I not remember?
Or remember-
To forget?

The stars-
Have ever proven:
Their existence-
On my days…

They do so still.

I lie, I lie, I lie!

What if-
You have never lied?
That it’s me-
Who’s been very very blind?

What if this-
Is yet another lie-
That I penned-
So that I could feel-



These stories-
Have been told.
Let’s not forget.

These questions-
Have been asked
Though truly-
Never answered.

Much lie-
Has been told;
And retold-
And believed.

The eyes-
Have deceived,
Been deceived,
Looked away.

Have been read,
Beread and-

Yet have ached;
Been pained-
And paroled.

The story-
Has been told.
Of love-
In hearts of gold.

They laugh-
And they scorn;
What they-
Haven’t ever known.

It’s not-
For everyone to feel;
Even though-
It’s very simple.

You may feel-
Or have it ample.
You might falter-
And be gone.

Inner balance-
Shall be practiced.
Something new-
That I can preach?

Keep it real.
Oh what a sentence!
It deludes,
Only deludes.

We don’t truly know-
Each other,
One another-
And ourselves.

We are strangers
We’re unheard of,
We are aliens,

You don’t know me.
You don’t know you.
I know nothing.
We know none.

Maybe one thing-
In common-
Have we all…
Collective truth?

That fact that-
We need peace.
The truth beneath-
The promise.

The tale that-
Love is real.
Even though-
It does beguile.

Is that something that’s-
Been told?
Or retold?
Or never told?



It’s time to leave
A distant promise

Holding thoughts of-
What there was

Clinging not to-

What there was-
It merely was

A candle though in awe
I see fire, searing sun

Our meeting place was-
The cobweb

Interwoven threads
Of one

It shrinks right now
It fades

Drooping in the skies
‘We sag’ you say, we hang

We float in flowy matter
One touch, we fly away

It’s real though
Is it not?

The promise of-
The touch.

It burns though
Does it not?

Oozing fires-
Of the sun.

Bearing Days


Don’t gather.
I know as well…
How no one has to know;
Even though they know,
They know.

Don’t die.
I also feel it…
The pain in killing life;
Even when you do it,
Take its life.

Don’t cling.
It’s shaped on end this thought…
How someone needs to breathe;
Even though they don’t,
Or do they try?

The fire needs the touch.
Oh the thunder needs-
To breath!
If even through-
A breeze.

Is the reason for the-
Glow of blazing stars.

Hold the hands-
Of a wanderer-
Who’s lost.

The flow of doubt-
In heavens,
Dangling through-
The dare.

Dazed and dull-
And dreary,
Dreading dreams-
And bearing days.

Till tomorrow-
Shall we wonder-
What this moment-
Might’ve been?

So reliant-
On the linear,
Learning none-
And leaning not.

They are everywhere-
The stars.
You may fly above-
And feel.

I assure you-
Of the moment
That you are and-
You are not.

Now I see it,
Cause I’ve done it;
Now I do it,
Cause I did?

How much pain-
For silly pleasure?
Is it decades…
Is it just-

The other day?



باز ما را بهار آمد؛
هر روز عاشق،
وز دل اما هیچ-

جز گلستان زندگی-
و روشنی حقیقت.

برهنگی باران-
و جنون شکوفه.

خواستن هامان از برای هم-
چون آرزوی قاصدک؛
از برای دیگری.


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