Thursday, June 14, 2012

Airplane to Beirut

Is the moon full early 
Or is it because we are up here
Not down there
The air grumbles a deep 
Muzzled  complaint
Offended by the plane's intrusive 
Needling into it's space 
The sounds is a wind tunnel we all ignore






Something's changed. 
A woman peeled her way out 
Of my skin
To see the world on the other end of this flight through her eyes... 

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Internet and buildings


the warm blanket
of nature and people
was slowly replaced by
the internet and buildings

Sunday, April 29, 2012

City Life

You wait for me
and I know it
your plastic alarm sunrise
your commuter sunset
your serendipity must be scheduled in

Your humans
plug in and
power out

There's too much to be done
so one day you can have time do nothing
Time pays in dollars and minutes
none of that ever mattered to a seedling



The beach


Your light is blue
And your green is violet
In between you
Your sides
Are yellow and sometimes black
The grains
Bend under my pressure
I make holes that don’t fill
So I can retrace my steps back
And out
You are clear today
Crisp and too transparent
It could frighten those that require
More clouds
I like you all exposed
Fragile protected areas
I warden you off with orange rope
Disrespectful people don’t know
How to care for you
I do
I lay down to get out of your wind
I zip up my coat
Your heat doesn't warm 
I search for my footsteps
Find my way out




Sunday, March 11, 2012

Home


In his proud saunter
The thick of his thighs
His playful subversion
His produce department
negotiation

In pots filled with opiates; 
Tart and butter
Crisped sheets of rice

In the blackened room
a digestif of
A quivering voice 
Sway of souls
folk meddling 


In the glisten of morning
and choice chaos on the walls


In her concern for
that day's passing patron
his wet hairline
his uncivilized plastic 
rejected him in public

In his ceaseless story
His sharp dissections 
His sensitivity 

In a stranger's words
my unearthed mother tongue

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Shock


I don’t get shocked. I am not sure why and who cares why any way. I just don’t. Loyal couples cheat,  people die, world trade center gets bombed, wars start and end, people are unlawfully incarcerated, bankers get paid a percentage of our GDP while everyone else goes broke, nothing surprises me. I think I turned cynical day two of my life. Just opened my eyes and saw all that wasn’t right or safe and expected it.

Though I never accepted it. I am also deeply idealistic. It doesn’t make sense to most Americans, being idealistic and cynical at the same but it’s completely rational in Iran.  We have the world’s only theocracy. There is so much idealism in that you can’t imagine. One dude is empowered by god to do right by all of us.  No checks, no balances. Utopia. And then he doesn’t and no one does and we go to jail for farting and thus cynicism develops at a very young age. Not that I was born or raised in Iran. I wasn't. 

I felt shock for the first time that night. You stood before me and told me you weren’t coming home with me.  I didn't even know it was an option. She stood behind you while you said it. I asked you 'are you going home with her?' And you didn’t respond.  I looked at you in the eyes. I was shocked.

I thought too much was between us for that to happen.  Right now you would respond ‘but I told you I wanted to be friends, I told you that I don’t fall in love, I told you I was an asshole.’ You did. You also held my hand down the street and back over and over and over again. And it was you who bought me flowers. Twice. You were also the only person who knew how to let me be.

All that was unspoken, all that was unsaid, seemed to me to say the most.  That we were bound to each other in our mutual eccentricity, our mutual understanding of that strangeness inside.  And because of this, we were the most important to each other. And you seemed to say that to me each time you returned, and each day that we passed together. Though it said nothing of the future, of our structure, of our commitment, it said so much to me. It said everything that needed to be said.

But it wasn’t true. I learned that people are not just who they are but what they believe. You might have been my equal in spontaneity and individuality but you weren’t my equal in belief. You didn’t believe in our chance, our luck. You didn’t believe in love.  But most importantly you didn’t believe in yourself to do more. You leaned back into your cowardice, you dug your heels into your selfishness, and you sat back into your indifference. And you let me get shocked and turn around and never see you again.


Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Inconvenient Love


The bird’s thirst finally quenched of the flower’s nectar
Like luscious fruit born of the bee’s eventual sprinkle

Lashing wind slowed by spinning staying trees
Leaves forced free by passing bitter
Growth’s reliance on spring’s glow

Tree haven for the moss’ mosey over the bark
The fierce wash of the shore by the moon moved ocean
Laid bare and baked in the tide’s inevitable retreat


Fresh and foreign fill canopy chasms
Layers deepen
Trees and moss tuck in the house tight
Misted wooded fence emits its true tint