Nothing

Nothing is all I am
Nothing overloading nothing
Closing the doors,
Opening an extra into an empty space,
Nothing ensues but a further war.

The bombs, lights that blind and Damascus,
Burning after Tehran. Sisters calling in despair,
Brothers callous the arms of infidels. Nothing happens
But children die, and journalists are filming for a deadline.

Nothing comes after nothing but I,
Kneel, cry for nothing,
and still the no shepherd birds burn at flight.

Nothing happens. I walk by the Central Park
Next to nothing, and the no flight zone is
Just nothing yet throat slides over throat,
Bullets shut and blood drops. Here nothing happens
But I write to keep nothing from overloading nothing.



Dancing Tango

Oh, Orlando!

Remember the night we danced
quietly on the sands where music
was played? Your words were
wonderers, said quietly
in the pockets of my ears.

Oh, Esphahan¹!
With your turquoise blue mosques
and lovers hiding under the sands
by the Zayandehrood² and its haunting
blue skies. Still the words did
wonders when they were said quietly
in the pockets of my ears.

Time is eternity, my dignity
resides in yours and your
words are wonders that I count
as precious coins kept quietly
in the pockets of my tears.

¹Esphahan: a city in Iran. It is famous for her beauty.
²Zayandehrood: a river in Esphahan



Sinbad

The ocean air
is nesting on your cloths.
You smell of raw fish,
I brush
The night out of your hair,
The salt from the skin tune

And I still want to lick.