I just sit on the stairs
I gave the entrance ticket
to someone, a few more minutes
The show begins, I already know what story
that will be on display, and I'm bored

I just sat on the stairs
Crowds come cheerfully
coupled with wry lies
I know who they are, but
they pretended not to see me

I just sat on the stairs
in front of a performance house
actually, who lives and what is there
in this house? Is only hope that must be
I bought with a very expensive ticket?

Yesterday I read in the rest of the local newspaper
articles that are far from the headlines
someone wrote a review about
the theater is dim, the actors are getting worse,
and bankrupt show management.

I just sat on the stairs
see people pretending to be happy
buy a ticket with the remaining savings
that should be paid
for health insurance.

by Hasan Aspahani

1.   Is prison only behind walls and iron bars or is it also in a free land that wants to be erased from history and maps?

2. Is killing possible only by the army and with weapons or also from the silence of the person who should speak?

3. What fears are now making you unable to feel the fear of hundreds of thousands of people whose homes burned, as well as mosques and rice fields left behind?

4. Can not you just imagine what they want to do is go home, study, and sit on the edge of the bed waiting for the dying mom?

5. Is it still beautiful that peacock dance when in between the tail feathers prepare army troops opened fire on people who do not understand why they must be expelled or die?

6. Do you want to once again get The Nobel Peace Prize for something you have to do that I should not mention in this question?

GOD said,
"There is no god,"
And I believed
in Him.

I a m hungry, therefore I am -  Garfield



IN prayer he will never utter
    it waits for the rain of milk,
       a heavy rain, because of him

the cat with thirsty tongue, see with
      its own eye, when mother was disappear.

In prayer he never dared to ask
     it wants a fishy fish neck,
         the smell of a fisherman,

no care about salt salinity, or its own sweat.

In prayers he will never say
       it expected the lap, the fire on that stove
                warm, and maybe also sear.

WHAT is the color deserted? He hides from the eye catch, over time, blooming orange gerbera, we plant it in the wounded land.

What is the scent of lonely? Blood that does not drip, the sap that does not flow from gerbera stalk wound, when we pick it.

What is the taste of lonely? Leaves fall not brewed, imagined what is dissolved in our cups, which once did not get to the petals gerbera.

Me and the drizzle
Are two different things
Who loves every strand of your hair.

Me and the moon
Are two different things
Who hopes to fall in the pool of your eyes.

Me and the air shiver
Are two different things
Who wants to marry all your embrace.

Please
Pick up my call
For the sky will fall
And the last thing I want to hear
Is your soul.