The chair is sighing
The walls walking
The mirror feeling sick of my ugly face
That curtains are annoying too
I don't see the window in the
silence that chocks the sparrow
The trees has made me a prison
My dreams are long
Longer than the shadows and
with their lappets I'll sew a dress
Its buttons up to my eyes
An afraid balloon may be plays
with the hands of a child in the
distance
And the victim would be a lady
tomorrow letting go all her
childhood in hands of the wind
I look at my future
1- I love to be in the arms of a man
In the hands has not touched any
woman's *******
2- I see a pregnant lady coming
down the stairs not thinking of
her tomorrow
lullabying for the dolls
-I've forgotten all the names of my dolls-
3- I have a child
tying her shoelaces
Taking her warm hands
I can't say how much I love her even in my eyes
Backing home from a daily shopping,
she sings with her childish voice passing through
the alleys
4- I'm old
Mum and dad are not with me anymore
They had to go
The photo frames, just excuses
for touching my memories
The chair is still sighing
The walls walking and
It's just me
Dead this time

صندلی آه می کشد
دیوارها راه می روند
آینه
از زشتی صورتم
استفراغ می کند
پرده ها هم مزاحم اند
پنجره را نمی دیدم
در آن سکوتی که گنجشک را خفه کرد
درختان
زندان را برایم ساخته اند
مدتیست
خواب هایم از سایه ها
بلند تر می شوند
با دنباله اش
لباسی خواهم دوخت
که دکمه هایش از چشمانم
بسته شوند
از دور
شاید
بادبادکی
-هراسان-
در دستان دختر بچه ای همبازی می شد
فردا
قربانی خانمی خواهد بود
که تمام کودکی هایش را با باد
رها می سازد
به آینده ام نگاه می کنم
1- دوست دارم
در آغوش مردی باشم
که دستانش
سینه های زنی را لمس نکرده اند
2- زنی باردار را می دیدم
که از پله ها پایین می آمد
بی آنکه به فردایش بیندیشد
برای عروسک ها لالایی می خواند
-من اسم تمام عروسک هایم را فراموش کرده ام-
3- کودکی دارم
بند کفش هایش را می بندم
دستان گرمش را می گیرم
حتی با چشمانم هم
نمی توانم بگویم
چقدر دوستش دارم
از کوچه ها می گذریم
با صدای بچه گانه اش
شعر می خواند و
از خرید روزانه
به خانه برمی گردیم
4- پیر شده ام
دیگر پدرومادرم در کنارم نیستند
آن ها هم باید می رفتند
قاب عکس ها بهانه اند
تا خاطراتم را نوازش کنم
هنوز
صندلی آه می کشد
دیوارها راه می روند
فقط منم
که این بار مرده بودم

"The Gospel says you are more sinful and flawed than you ever dared believe, but more accepted and loved than you ever dared hope."*

Timothy Keller


"A simple mind"
Or some would say
To believe God
The Gospel way.

To think of Christ's
Redeeming blood
As "fairy tale"?
Or healing flood?

I knew it not
While in my youth
Oh! How I wish
I'd known the TRUTH!

I was in darkness,
I'll attest,
My father is
An atheist.

But I was rescued!
I received!
I heard the Gospel
And BELIEVED!

I know there's naught
That can be said
To those who God
Has left for dead.

How deep depraved
And sure of death
Are those who sin
Unto last breath

How blessed are those
Who seek His face
For tho they've sinned
They're saved by Grace.

He freely held
His hand to give
He freely died
That YOU might LIVE.

That you receive
Is what I pray,
Then you will know

The Gospel Way.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 9/7/2017

I am the embodiment of your life
the shoulders of your deep sadness
the wrapped arms of your burden
the warmth of your coldness
the breath of your sighs

the atmosphere
when you are near
to be living again
then

I'll sing my song for you
just for you with that refrain
in the midst of the night
will you not be so sad again

the rivers are overflowing
it's still monsoon-time, baby
where will we go with all these liquid
no scrupules, I'll fix it

I'll read you a poetry sublime
about the poet who writes about food
who never be hungry again
never have a grind
man unkind
to break or crush the notes

please do never forget
I am the bottom of your bed
the handle of your doors
the candle of your fires
I am the embodiment
of your desires....



© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Copyright Protected