This morning was so beautiful
I lost so much blood
April At 9:00am
It always has golden trees
The sky is too white...
I see so many lined shapes sitting
or bending
I won't sell my drawings
It loves its paintings
The color pencils are walking
The doll laughing
My hands were beautiful
I was pretty in your eyes...
My ****** does not blossom
It flew
Why shouldn't the Jasmine's
blossoms be red ?!
Their yelling is not concordat with me
I want my tears to be Eglantines
For the sun to laugh
My dance with God
Among watercolors
In my mother's ******* eyes is beautiful...
I am the same Jasmine
Yesterday in my mother's arms
And today a woman fondling your
ears by singing lullaby of her virginity
I will put a society to sleep
The wheat is sleeping with the grain field
A girl who the sun doesn't see her ******* will die
in the shining of blues
And my hands will not reach the
black hair of any man
The red beautiful Jasmine flower
doesn't belong to the freedom
I will not realize the illusion of freedom...

امروز صبحی زیبا بود
خون زیادی از من رفت
اردیبهشت
در ساعت نه صبح
همیشه درخت هایی طلایی دارد
...آسمان بی اندازه سفید است
حجم های خطی زیادی می بینم
نشسته است
یا خم می شود
طراحی هایم را نخواهم فروخت
نقاشی هایش را دوست دارد
مداد رنگی ها راه می روند
عروسک می خندد
دست هایم زیبا بود
...من در چشم های تو زیبا بودم
واژن من گل نمی کند
پرواز کرد
چرا نباید گل های یاسمن سرخ باشند !؟
فریادهایشان با من یکی نیست
اشک هایم را
گل نسترن می خواهم
تا خورشید خندیده باشد
رقص من با خدا
میان آبرنگ ها
در چشم های سیاه درشت مادرم زیباست
من همان یاسمنی هستم
که دیروز در آغوش مادرم بودم
و امروز
زنی که صدای لالایی های پرده های بکارتش را
در گوش های شما نوازش می دهد
جامعه ای را خواهم خواباند
گندم با گندم زار خوابیده است
دختری که سینه های آفتاب نخورده ای دارد
در درخشش آبی ها خواهد مرد
دست هایم به موهای مشکی مردی نخواهد رسید
گل سرخ زیبای یاسمن به آزادی تعلق ندارد
...من توهم آزادی را نخواهم فهمید

I hadn't expected someone there
already before me.

Only lonely men come here
I heard him through my heavy breath
lonely with nothing and everything.

Down there was the sea rumbling faintly
with the froths painting themselves on the shore
like a sketch in a child's drawing book.

Height does amazing tricks, the man continued,
makes you feel invincible
stimulates you to be ****** into gravity
to fall as light as the feather.

The dusk was wrapping up the light
when I remembered having promised her
not to be late to descend.

There's a man up there, I told the gateman,
Nope, he said,
you were the only guest this evening.

When my hands were feeling
jealous of the fondling of the grain field,
I was being satisfied by each tree
Thinking of water...
It has free thought
I love my always naked body in it

وقتی دستانم
به نوازش گندم زار
حسادت می کرد
من با هر درختی ارضاء می شدم
...می اندیشم به آب
فکری آزاد دارد
تن همیشه لختم را درآن دوست دارم

No life or death
Pain or pleasure
Galaxy
Or Universe
No more beautiful dawns or dusks
No world of wonders
Or anything
Once we are gone.

So it’s Now Boys!
Attention!
As Huxley said
On “Island”.
Live for Now.
For this very moment.

Stop.
Let your mind go blank.
Listen to your body
And all that surrounds you.

Breathe in the oxygen
That gives us life.
Admire the sky
And all beneath it.

Join with nature:
Sapping grass and foliage
The song of birds
As Mummy Sparrow feeds her fluffy chick
Its beak open wide
Clamouring for food.

Enjoy it all
While it lasts.

Paul Butters

I wanna have lunch with Poe,
at Burger King,

because I'm sure he would appreciate how ghoulish that King in their commercial is

I don't want him to recite verse
while we fill our medium cups with corn syrup nectar--a giant leap
down from laudanum

I do want to ask about the Cask of Amontillado and being walled in slowly, for eternity

for to me that is creepier than all the crimson cream in the Masque of the Red Death

I want to know if he likes the fries--will he dare to dip them in scarlet paste we call catsup

mostly I want to know if he remembers the alley where he was found,

not yet a legend, consumed by consumption and delirium in equal measure

and if there were rodents privileged to hear his last whispered words--or even a gasp

I am buying, Ed, so grab that Whopper with both bony paws and tell me terrible tales, evermore

My foetal days are full of blindness
Akin to this, my void days will be full of darkness
My world will be shut in despair
As heaven webs are ravaged beyond repair
The murky silence grasps my soul in the womb
And releases it in my stone tomb
My beginning and end are proportionally designed
The end claims unending life therefore my beginning chose i to resigned

Written by
Martin Ijir