"bood" poems
He is ancient steadfast
I am sure he was here when the world was created
I am sure he will be here when it ends
His gentle face carved with hard lines
He poured forth knowledge in his native Persian tongue
He called me Shohre
I learned it was his sister's name
He looked at me like a granddaughter and treated me just as sweet
“Ghabl az enghalab...”
Before the revolution...
After which would follow painful reminiscing of
The days before the current regime
When wine bubbled out from Shiraz
Men and women danced late into the night
And soft voices wove love songs in street cafes
“Ghabl az enghalab moalem dar daneshgah boodam.”
Before the revolution I was a university professor.
“Yeki az daneshjooyanam Ahmedinejad bood.”
One of my students was Ahmedinejad.
And in English, clear as hate,
“He was a *******
One night I stayed back for extra lessons
We ate cherries from Costco and
Read excerpts from his autobiography
Pages crafted from right to left, vignettes of
His military service in Mashhad
And consequent teaching career
“Ba'ad az enghalab...”
After the revolution...
Was always followed with war stories
Political dissidents lost to Evin prison
Sharia law imposed on moderate minds
Escaping Iran by night with a phony visa
“Ba'ad az enghalab dar ketabkhane bayad kar konam”
After the revolution I had to work in the library.
“Khoastam yad bedahm, pas man o zanam be Amrika raftim.”
I wanted to teach, so my wife and I came to America.
He has not been home since 1981.
On December third of 2009 he walked smugly into the classroom
Setting a tape player happily on a desk.
He opened a folder from right to left
Produced a well-worn cassette
And played Happy Birthday, in Persian, for me.
He smiled at me with hands folded throughout the song
As I’d imagine he had smiled at
All the other special women in his life named Shohre.
He never played Happy Birthday for any of the other students.
Or gave them cherries,
Or went to their weddings,
Or held them while they cried when their grandfather died.
I do not know what he saw in me
But in each other we found family years and miles away from home.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 5:37 PM UTC
They call me Mr.Cadaver
Dead,yet living in hospitals
And schools where they teach how to become doctors
Oh!Doctors My only true lover
I died of a natural disease
You know,the one where you constantly sneeze
Too poor to be buried
Too poor to be burned
So I was embalmed
In certain chemicals
Formaldehyde,then frozen
And in this form turned
It wasn't easy at first
Young eyes looking at me suspiciously
The weak-hearted watching disgustedly
But as time(I have much of it)
Went by I got used to it
I was dissected by stainless steel
So that they could learn how to heal
These various tissues,body parts well
I knew my worth when departed
I was a precise model
Of a living person
With my help
So many learnt
Basic human anatomy
Which vein goes where
Where lies the spleen
So whenever you are on the hospital bed
Remember
My death gave another life to thee
They sell me for many a dollar
To the blue-eyed scholar
And I will become his loyal friend
I may look creepy
But that's just because I'm dead
The teacher points to various places
On me , sometimes I feel a little ticklish
But I a satisfied by the curious eyes
Who are learning about me for your benefit
And when the session expires
My second life,it must retire
But they extract my bones
Put the skeletal frame in a museum
Or break it into pieces
And give it to students of various fields
The dentists want the cranium
I'm bloodless
Anatomy's life bood
So bow down to me
Ye first year students
I taught Da Vinci how to draw a man
Taught Michaelangelo how to sculpt
From Ancient Greece to modern medicine
My death has given life to many humans
Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 3:21 PM UTC
Trees we hike dark coal
"Horror"
He whispers blade eyes
Cut her not to like
White drizzle wedding
ghostly take a hike
Her bare skin shivers
Knocking on heavens door
Those skinheads hit her floor
Life's cruel wicked costly
Silver bullets hit the smoking
potheads
Chattered teeth hearing sound's
He shifted so close desirable
( tasty mound's)
The Stranger Billy don't B fool
joker
Dark-love complicated **** it
Computer slammed her fingers
All Choked up Elvis twist
Deep-house music strangled rope
seated,
Touching a nerve dead-beat
Harvest-hair Rocky horror seat
Trembling in your
Rocking Chair
No flair black tears red tip check
of word fears
Elevated you deadly crumb's
in a row nothing to show
Blood was dripping
Someone's eyes pop-out fixated
Dark brain felt polluted
white chalked her stalked
You were being watched
Eye's stalked daggered
Rows and Rows
Cosmic dark Gothically
Webs caught in webs
black tears
satanically
Parasite horror website
Bood ***** bite
Loud drips from the sink
discolored
Wrinkled Hand's Slime Sticky
Her long neck lastly tricky
Rocky-Road yellow brick
lightly pricked Emerald city
Eye's melt fingers slipped
The poppy, eyes I tripped
He's no lover of mine cheaply.
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 10:40 AM UTC
wunteim i sad to mee mumu wor i *** gee
shaggie sakid we nood to do de smokeng
i sed noo is a bood goy
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 9:21 AM UTC
You woke me in the night
Told me of vampires and demons
The colossal breath of dragons
Lurid fears you'd one day fight
Heart so beautifully torn
Fresh to the elements in distress
You tender path of bood roses
Between roads of howling thorns
Sing with ****** sensitivity
A warm sugar rush symphony
We are guilty spirited angels
Of flesh filled fantasies
The writhing life from your bones
Peeled and gnawed and devoured
Free from rotten memory
Of detritus filled tombs
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 7:29 AM UTC
in 7th grade it was red, bood red, wine red. short and choppy and red, i hated myself. i cried until it grew, thinking my problems rooted in what was left of my hair. i lied that year, red lips spewing black oil, sticky and hard to wash out. in 8th grade, the summer i was a fairy, it was raven black, green under the redwood sun, too thick bangs covering my greek caterpillar eyebrows. a boy had a crush on me and girls carved words into their ankles, i didnt understand. i dont think they understod either. in 9th grade my hair was long, overgrown, knotted. stained colors i no longer could recognize, hugging my neck and back and shoulders when you ****** me over, i buzzed it off in the end.
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
is there any road to follow is there any way of survival for my own hope. where do i turn to if i mean no trouble. theres no hiding cause every one knowes my life like a bood with chapere books. all i can do is turn my silence in to violence. theres only fear where i cant hid behind the sound to hide my stolen omen.
where do i wait for you to show? i ponder on what will happen to me is the danger screams out of the shadows. what is real my dreams that turn into dark!
i can keep running from all the lifes evils of temptation do i follow or not. what s this life
life or death. some one stole my own demons. how long do i have to keep going when i just gett weaker and weaker as time goes i lie to my self like every thing is all right when im slowly drowning out of the light.
my hands arnt stong enouht to hold my silence. holding on for dear life my hands start to slips as i plumit to my death. seeing my own refection that is only evil that takes no risks.
when i touched the mioir i went in to another world seeing whay ly life is like for every white lie that leaves scares.
i slip way from the light with some ones othere hands pull me away soying dont go eve if you chose. we are hear to fight for what neddds to be changed.
letting go of my souls as it puours out of my breath.
our world is full of dangers that linger every corner but i kep slipping from the light cause i ont have any thing to hide be hind my sound so i dont break
what am i
what will i be
how will i survive
what do i need
love
free of fear
how long do i have to keep running
my sound is now where to be hurd
the cold weather bites
my anxiety grows
with what limits
idk who the real me is
cause looking in the water seeing what you look like
what would be left
if i went missing
what would you do
do i really know who the real me is
cause i dont have any thing to hide be hind the car radio no sound my silnenc turnes in to violence
(MY SILENCE TURNS IN TO VIOLENCE) when i dont have a place to hid
drowing my life with music has saved the pain way from all my (ANGER&HATE;)
all i can see when i sleep is this world dyeing with ******* hatred and small war
i dont have any thing to hid be hind to stay safe
(MY ANGER%HATE) becomes dangerous making me snap and go psychoticly crazy
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 11:06 AM UTC
Jesus
Written by: Mario Vitale
We all walk on a loose line that leads to debris
Silence
Etched in the fabrication through the elapse in time,
The Lilley of the valley the bright & morning star/
The illumination in time through degrees of solace
A hand extends through the cosmic debris in circumstantial evidence;
Just to touch the very hem of his garment
Just to hear to pitter patter of soft sandeled feet...
~
A myraid chasm through a gulf fix in sight;
We all fall short in the midst of violation...
Having planted our seeds in its timely proclamation
A side was pierced for sorrow to be gained;
In times of want their is a clear change
In the violation of the innocent proned to bitter chains..
~
The hand to hold as you are told until the rights to you are sold;
Jesus in the garden pearls of sweat fallen down
Jesus in my heart while painting the town
Jesus after the rise in certain days to see
Jesus in the formidable way making sweet history
Jesus helping neighbor or the hero in disguise;
Jesus offering breakfast to his followers in disguise
Jesus who will pray in the tender hours of need
Jesus is in you & also in me!
~
Torn
With days in thought & delicate prayer with humble quest
A rest in view to its timely crest;
We each our given a choice regarding heaven & hell
Yet Jesus is the perfect gentleman who doesn't force himself on anyone
Through briars, asps & serpents layer...
Jesus
We all were born into the world & given a choice?
Repent for the days our cursed;
Don't live your lives in a fishbowl circling around year after year choose the fear
In sorrows quest the follow draws near in desolation filtered through a straw
A sore vex sway to take the time to bow the knee to pray
Some may even insist it ought not be that way yet who are they?
The liberal makes his or her heart fat on the worldly vices with false choices;
~
Through ages past as Abraham had grasped & Moses was exposed
Jesus
We watched on as you were ripped to shreads;
Your tender touch through eraser heads
In vile repute hence the opened door to explore...
Yet the past is the past & now is now
A heart saturated with truth thus in order to withstand the truest test in time
Elapsed fervor,
Bood soaked messenger exposed to the elements;
Jesus
Come into my heart I know I'm a sinner
I ask you to be my Lord & savior;
In Jesus name I pray,
Amen.
Now choose to celebrate your commitment with other believers in the fellowship;
Embrace the cross.
Amen
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC