Poetry

March 2, 2016 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

By

Sarah Pedramnia

 

 

 

Life Devoured

 

 

Sat on her knees
On the floor in her apartment
Just Fucked Halfway,
Again,
Left for a Good reason,
Her hope blown to the farthest Land. . .

Ugh, Desert!

Hit the floor by her feast,
Shed tears,
Could open her mouth,
Bite and have the parquets
Then,
Spit Them Out. . .

Tell me,
“What are we
Looking for?”

Much to tell
Her voice echoes
In the Large toilet, called,
Land. . .

– Human Insanity
Stupid Modern Form. . .

(While ago,
I went Sick
Threw All
I had Devoured
before the porcelain toilet bowl)

Head into the Toilet,
Sick Orgasm . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ballerina Girl

 

 

 

Put dark glasses on,

The Ballerina,

Stood and stretched in silence

And for a second as she looked up,

Saw herself in front of the “Truth Mirror” . . .

 

Took a Deep breath,

Bent her Knee,

In attitude,

spun around on demi-pointe

By the Barre;

 

Rounded her arms

and held them Above her head,

And Sighed with a Great Reflection . . .

 

A Voice Echoed as if from the “Mother Mirror”!

It was mademoiselle, the Dance Master:

 

“Addagggee ~ ~ ~”!

 

“Let it Flow with your passion,

Listen to the voice inside your chest,

Trust the Truth,

Truth shall be trusted ~ ~ ~”

 

She could vaguely see them dancing,

And the voice slowly would fade away,

Hiding her tears,

Pressed the steel barre hard and as her fingertips tingled,

 

(Saw a naked girl head bent in sorrow, had squatted down, Livid-bruised skinned)

 

I stand and take a deep breath,

As I listen to my song:

“the Midnight Lady”

And Ghosts in my House,

Ask me questions I ask myself over and over as I ponder and

 

I feel as if a Soul enters my flesh and

It feels as if I am just a Walk-In

And I put my Dark Glasses On!!!

 

I look into the mirror . . .

 

“Rip off that bruised livid Skin

Take off her Dark Glasses On!!!”

I blame myself . . .

 

“CoMeOn” said the last stranger as he Ignored,

The Rose in my Hand, again,

Went so Heartsick;

 

And behind the dark eyes I have Shyly wept;

(She. . .)

 

Among the Ghosts,

He Always appears the last moments of my tolerance

As if he finds it painful to watch me,

Dance & Weep,

 

He longs to comfort me

(My Man in dark blue Shirt with a big mole on his right forearm I have imagined);

 

Takes my hand

And comes from past or future

And materializes, dancing with me

In the Large expanse of the floor,

In my cozy little Apartment. . .

 

He stays All night

And the other ghosts will vanish tonight

And not plague me,

Till tomorrow;

 

“Banish the ghosts forever!”

“Come!”

 

Have you ever encountered the Truth Mirror?

 

Who are we without Love’s magic spell?

– Too Boring, she thought. . .

 

He takes me to bed and

As I dream, he unlocks my feast

by a caressing kiss;

 

I see Ballerina Girl Dancing Slowly in Harmony

Looks at me and smiles,

Her BRIGHT Brown eyes,

Without Glasses

And, Now, They, Shine;

 

“Trust the Truth, Be Courageous”

“Adage”, I Breathe, Hiding under His armpit . . .

– (She Flies away).

 

“The Phoenix will hatch,

After you

Rip off the Livid Hyacinth skin”

Said the mademoiselle!

 

Have you encountered the Truth Mirror?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Muscles built for the mosquitoes!

 

 

 

Huge Muscles

Sat beside her to watch

Her fragile hands,

Shake;

 

Girls

Watching eagerly

-On the other side-

The mosquitoes’ Men;

 

Nose jobs done

Fake black and blond

Lips Large with Botox

To EAT the mosquitoes!!!

 

Tanned;

Rape to

rape

By Large cowards!

 

Bullying words and look,

Which would

Hurt her;

Butterfly in a jar!

 

A scary thought

To give in to the mosquitos men. . .

 

Her heart lost many times like a mosquito,

Out of her cocoon

Butterfly

Soon to die,

Here;

 

(Bang Bang!)

 

Smashed the onion by their feast,

So

Pleased;

 

Some the Onion z;

 

What is your motto here?

Cowards rule the town

I Fear!

 

For the

LONELY Little Widow. . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dandelion

 

 

Dandelion!
My brave free dandelion,
I used to love you
So much,
You also loved me, True?

Dandelion,
cold dime of the misleading desires
Troubled us All the Way
You knew it, right?
Destiny might change for better by faith;

Dandelion,
Your petals never reached the final destination
Dreams never deserved. . .
Haven’t we tried?

Dandelion,
My dear Dandelion,
You were supposed to find him
And whisper into his ears;

I’d been waiting,

Remember?
I was Just,
A Child. . .

Dandelion,
Life’s melody seemed so fine to my ears
Though,
I knew there should’ve been something wrong
To, Be. . . Otherwise, Why?

Up in the sky,
Down on earth,
Deep in the ocean,
As mother’s heart beats confess,
All the complications we’ve been looking for the answer
All we made, Could be solved
Just if we traced
Love, instead of Desire!

I Have been cruel; you know . . .
Have hurt some people before life’s fairness
retaliated in the round World!
Why
Didn’t YOU, find the way?

Dandelion is cold.
The dying
Cold Wet dandelion,
I feel
Your petals carrying my dream,
Have fallen somewhere down into the river;

River will purify dreams from greed. . .
Pain will remove the poison, I know you’ve lost the way. . .

Dandelion suffered Just
As my heart
crashed and burned totally,
No one to blame for the Mistakes;
My heart shadowed by misleading desires,
Cold dimes, I lost;

Poor Dandelion ,
Ready to be trusted once Again?
I will watch your seeds, fluff,
Disperse. . .

I still adore you;

 

 

 

 

 

 

As strong as an undying land

 

 

As strong as an undying land, immortal,
The Great Mediterranean Mystical God, calm as the ocean,
As quiet as a gold wheat land in summer
when the soft wind blows;
So much to unveil
Just as cosmos, infinite,
Sensitive as a rose,
“The wise man!”

Present, for the pale Jasmine
the time her dreams were dying,
“She”, As naive as a dream in a bouquet. . .
Tender scent of a woman;

(A man in a crowd saw the girl’s eyes following lollipops
He bought one to see her eyes, shine!)

Deserved thousands of poems
“The tango man”
Dancing with her in the castle she’d built for him
In her heart
by the white sands;
his penetrating gaze,
the warm tango kisses,
Spirits have No Boundaries or borders;

He would take her out of the misery,
Make a bridge to a protected place,
Draw a sketch for that fine architecture
In her heart
-the castle-
Taking her hand,
“The Pale Jasmine”,
Caring for her;

The master designer
The soft intellectual creature she had ever desired
She could marry his statue!
Her finest discovery,
A TRUE, Friend. . .

The castle in her heart and the dusted doorbell
Undusted once in a while,
Just,
As he, had, promised her!
Soft Curly clouds up in the sky. . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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 complementary 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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