Poetry

December 2, 2015 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

By

Sarah Pedramnia

 

 

Fearful

 

 

“Fearless”!,

She dated a “man”,

Who used to send her cartoon flowers;

Daring to fail once again,

Gathered her courage,

To be sheltered

And Started afresh . . .

 

[Fearful,

Is a “FreeGhazal” with a broken bone and a torn Band, And weak sinews, Who’s Just escaped the hunter. . .]

 

It was raining cats and dogs,

And the Dark Clouds,

And the thunder,

That ominous midnight,

She wrote a letter to wonder,

the man’s intentions,

And every sign suggested,

a “road” to No where,

But she wouldn’t fall (for) the signs . . .

 

[Fearful,

little Ghazal,

Loyal, Ingenuous in love once it’s chosen “by faith”!

“Hopefully” was hearing “the” Call,

And she was ready to burn,

-As if “Fire” Could burn in the fire!]

 

“Lord,

I’m taking the chance “to” the hands,

May them Be,

The “Right” hands?

And lead me to the blue silk Ocean,

Thy wanted to lead me to and calm me down under thou words, Instead of the strong wind and all the suffered torments, So far?

-Let me try. . .”

 

“Ghazal” ?

 

-She met and United,

To be held and embraced,

And so

She suffered the strong wind force by

His cruelty or Life’s,

Called rationale!

That invites,

The fire and the tallest Flames. . .

 

[Ghazal,

It ran to the hunter,

-Cheated again by the delusion and the fallacy of “its” company, “The tiger”,- Paused for a second when it saw the Wide-open jaw; And it was too late. . .

 

Its soul tasted death Again,

-As if “one” could die once in a while!

 

And the Flesh,

The blood,

All Gone and Dried,

Waiting for Another Re-incarnation,

“In The same Spot”,

The “Jungle”.]

 

Ghazal and the girl. . .

 

She injailed herself for a Life sentence, The crime she never intended, “Fearful” this time!

Afraid that,

The ill-fated signs displayed that night may suddenly reappear, And she may forget. . .

 

-For,

She led the Ghazal,

Die-

 

Or;

This time,

 

The “Real” flowers,

“A” man on his knee,

The right signs and a propitious number or a falling star, Or Something alike in “his eyes” for the:

 

“Ghazal Gaze”. . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sarah Pedramnia

I was born in 1983 in Tehran, Iran. I grew up in a family with humanist values and beliefs and was three when we realized that I was epileptic and was twelve when I realized that I have more to do than a normal person to be able to stand in society.

In 2009 I went to university and studied English Translation and am working on my thesis for a Masters. I have been working on poetry writing and fiction as a freelance writer and undertake complimentary literature studies.

I have approximately 50-80 poems in Persian and a few poems in English. I consider myself not as a professional English poet but with good potential and some good English poems.

I started writing two novels in Persian last year, ’10 days in love’ and ‘Two days in Paris’ and may just turn them into scripts.
Along with poetry, I am writing a story in English ‘The Lady Lavender’ which is a story of the conflicts and life of a woman in the 1970s, not accepted by society due to certain circumstances. Her name was chosen by the process of making Lavender Oil, in which you should first cut the sprigs and then let them dry. It was after my divorce three years ago that my perception radically changed and most of my works reflect my own life and challenges faced in my country as a member and in life as a woman.

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