Airborne life circling , the pan flutes of thick
cover , gully and granite precipice awash in song
Magenta dusk towers the white pine treetops , crows
portend the birth of the moon , herons wallow in
six o'clock shadows , river dancers cross the mirrored
narrows  
Dove ballads echo for miles , gulf breezes crackle parched
canopies , a piedmont landscape offering me hope , reason
and sanity* ..

I love my notebook so much
My mom sewing Jasmine petals
My skirt dancing...
Why the home stories are not being published ?!
My poet may rhyme


من دفترم را خیلی دوست دارم
مامانم
گل برگ های یاسمن را به هم می دوزد
...دامنم می رقصد
چرا هیچوقت قصه های خانگی
در روزنامه ها چاپ نمی شوند
شاعر من
شعر بگوید

I feel so uninspired

maybe because I’m tired
of all the nicely rhyming jingle
I’d rather wish that just a single
great thought or image would appear
of love or hate or lust or fear
unfold its plethora of riches

     no matter whether clowns or witches
     the sky  the stars the moon the sea
     and all the creatures there may be
     nature’s eternal universal charm
     the friendly dragon that means no harm
     fair maidens pining for their knights
     vampires haunting stormy nights
     fairies benign and leprechauns
     protecting all the loved ones

so that my lines be generally admired

alas, I still feel uninspired…

A peaceful song
The bird did sing
While taking off with fiery wings
Praising the sun
The bird did glow
Asking to be strong and young
And from the ash
The bird rose
Now young and free
Risen from ash and stone
The bird sings to the sun alone
Taking off with powerful wings
Rising into the new morning sky without end
The Phoenix died
And was born again

I stay drunk these days
Drink it away
You
The pain
In vain
Never leaves
And I, I grieve
Can't get up
Out of bed
The words you said
Echo in my head
Diseased
At ease
And I, I can't
Just Please
My skin burns
My soul yearns
The years
These tears
And I, I die
I cry
Ask God why
He won't answer
And I, I'm just
A silly ballet dancer
You, youre the sky
The sun
And I, I'm done

Oh my dear Lord
Your beautiful creation of the dandelions...
Oh my great God
Your beautiful creation of my heart...
Oh the beautiful dandelions
The owners of the blue sky
Ask God whether I can imagine
your dress carrying Jasmines !!!
I haven't told the sky how much I love you
but I've told God...


ای خدای من
...قاصدک ها را زیبا آفریدی
ای خدای بزرگ
...قلب من را زیبا آفریدی
ای قاصدک های زیبا
که آسمانی آبی دارید
به خدا بگویید
اشکالی ندارد
اگر فکر کنم
!!! پیراهن شما گل یاسمن دارد
من به آسمان نگفته بودم
شما را دوست دارم
...به خدا گفته بودم

Around me is dying another day
silently falling in surge of emotion
in the mournful dirge of the dusk
dropping on the black drongo
flying home in dream of dawn
beneath the first star of twilight
blushing in the kiss of sky
heralding another earth evening
celebrating death in the dire need of
resuscitating life.

sometimes love doesn't mean
to pursue or to care no more
on the person you love ,

sometimes love means to sacrifice
and to let someone you love go
even it kills you

...من دست هایم را در قلب شما می گذارم

i put my hands in your heart.....