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Terror and Other Poems

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      • Mot-clésFR Éditeur 13 articles
        13 articles


      From far away                        you bury your father

      wipe your mother’s tears        from far away

      in a café where you can ambush loneliness

      you chat with a weeping house

      video call from afar

      Mother            three steps above everything like a moon                 is up there

      kissing Mahsa (moonface)

      goes after Mahtab (moonlight)

      and yet her demeanour which carries a headache

      is the execution of my placeholder

      in the the arms of a few women

      In a banned house

      they’re all coming

      like I have left

                  I’m in deep sorrow

      this sorrow of my words

      in Langrude

      at the foot of a bridge that’s more a stallion than running

                              they killed my father

      they killed my father


                              only in Langrude

      otherwise each year someone’s

                              leaving, breaking away

      Friday is a bleak house that was massacred

      and the family, the Iran which was executed at home

      since we chanced out of the loins of Eve

      and Adam became man’s exclusive pa

      we put Jesus in the Church

      so the hero so hidden in women’s loins

                  would manifest instantly

      to send death

                  that’s ahead of the horse

                              far from the house

      At the foot of the bridge that so lacks a father

                  as Jesus son of Merry

      I was so walking in myself

                  as to put my town to shame

      Not so shamelessly as Juda

      to unleash wolves to kill the father

      I should keep quiet

                  so the rabid dog won’t wake

      and bark and bark in the house

      and the blood letter lurking in female loins

      won’t get the chance

                  to cut a wound in the morning

      now that the horse is the principle

      and death        the bailiff

      with the sorry state of my eyes

      that make a small sea for the frog to swim

      what do I do if I don’t risk

      no longer will few extra throats harbour such a lump that makes a necklace to my throat


                  is sat squatting in my sorrow

      the knife can no longer help my life

      the bottle is so full

                  that any longer has no wine

      and the wound that has a depth of ruin

      is so effective

      that blood is random walking through my drunken veins

      the one who was my pa

      the big baba

      the  friend on road

      the one seen

                  jamming with me

      I was left alone

      Am alone

                  by my J’s

      am alone

                  by my J’s

      more alone

                  by my J’s

                              more than ever

      This alley is more for the job than a knife

                  this house from the arm

      this pain

                  will last another man

      this man

                  will rise in another place

      the road’s father is from either side

      and death        that is life’s destination

                              is the services café along the way

      It has a lantern

                  but it’s dark

      has bitter tea   in narrow waisted cup

      but sweet

      like a lament spilling off the call of lovers

      A Ashura band of chest-beaters         this side of the way

      singing            oh my Hosein             oh my Hosein

      A band of chest beaters                      that side of the alley

      Oh my standard bearer’s stature        where art thou?

      Like a nation bequeathed of Imam Hosein

                  a home town is left behind

      from a little house

      at the end of a road

      in a remote place left behind

      A nation that put to fire its country like a match

      slayed the bedstead

      and morphed the spouse to a sea

      Long live the wind that was but late

      Long live the desert that has no sea

      and mother


          a mother who can no longer

                  pin her lips onto my cheeks

      The road has a journey on either side

      and me            a half torn hyman       a half torn hymn of Sohrab on the wedding night

      I haven’t shed the father’s blood to come true

      I’m whiling death’s remit

      like a shoe with laces  untied

      I’m such a lout

      that could for the killer

      who has a stocky stature

      turn my thumb to a spade

      you say Ouch!

      And be careful

      god is great     hallelujah

      father is not dead  hallelujah

      and love

      like a recipe with water’s flesh           against the mince with the face of a cow      is all ready

      Mary is not anti magdalin

      Leila is not anti love

       and La Elaha Ella Love

                  is a hailing

                              that has a son from tomorrow’s

      the alley in each house is the father

      and for pa

                  a nurse

                  that is privately

      and a rice paddy         which can’t be sold without my signature

      I am heir to your wound father

      what have I to do with your garden

      give your assets to your brother

      and your son in law who sleeps with the most sisterly god

                  enjoying his time

      I’m like a brigade who’s lost a country

      my base is lost, no longer to be found

      I’m gone like a sunrise after sunset mother

      at least sweep the clouds off the mountain of Karbala 1

      plow the snow weighing down on my roof

      don’t cry

      just your being there for me to look into your eyes

      is still more than enough

      the fact that you kept saying God is Great aloud as I misbehaved while you were praying and now that God is Great keeps bugging your life

      God is Great

      Cradled in the sunset going down the slope of Thursday

      Halva again

      why don’t you donate the dates again?

      Oh my lord

      The half finished painting of my wedding night

      and I’m such a lout

      that cannot help being a fathered child

      I’ve even forced my Sunday to go to church

      to sit next to Marge somewhere along the isle

      and constantly

      to wink at Mahsa who is a female Jesus

      I’m no longer the person that I was

      I have no time

      and when ever I have no time is the (right) time

      I am no longer a man  who is no longer like Adam

      if you are

      just say Ouch!

      Death to the Dictator

      Hey Mr, Master, Sir, Supreme Leader,  

                                          After the last comma      Come on!

                                           Put a full stop!

      From the moment’s roof top

      Today’s crying Death to the Ruthless

      Tomorrow’s its witness

      Don’t fire on unarmed loneliness

      All folks have spilt to the street which leads to the sea


      The water that’s flowed

      Won’t return to the river

      Why fire on protesters?

      Their bloody palms are waving to your hammer which is coming down


      Which is your mother?    Brother?    Sister?

      Dear Mr, Sir, Supreme Leader

      Hey whoremaster!

      Facing you

                 The question mark that’s whying

                                                                Is the comer!

      So sermon of society

      Should childhood be left to itself    adulthood it won’t become

      mother’s foot in the door                 and society becomes

      Society’s a road                                self contained could not

      ride over the humps

      On the waterfront    a foetus alone ninth month expires

      out through the door that appears    in darkness   comes

      good and bad labels won’t kiss  his temple

      cause he’s both                                 and neither

      I’m good!       How?!                        I’m bad?!        I’m both

      and both means one

      one that neither is

      Grew up on my own consciousness

      a bridge on thoughts that surround all around me

      come a witness to bear witness......

      Ma Ma on a way        ma Pa the other

      and each ma da[rling]            who came       said this way

      Still the same junction                        you-less nowhere there

      can ear each syllable and not ‘ear

      Eyeing the surround all around and              seeing not

      Me am not a train that on the rails keeps       coming and going

      Am river!         riving         my own womb         society’s there!

      Hate ma gooddeeds so bad I pretend others....

      You plain door I’m looking for in darkness

      that follows me in darkness till which noon? I’ve reached

      ma black and stiff suite of life to me stark nakedness              not a bad fit!

      thirty years of this road end to end I rived to myself

      I was the road, ungoable, and dying this unbelievable

      that anywhere on earth is stalking where isn’t stalking superb?

      The Cowards! Opening like a door unearthing the tombstone

      Disgusted by how much the cheerers

      jeered the wind, in ecstasy wind, airing open!

      I wish I hadn’t told them!

      That is             when someone dies     they say

      in foreign house          in foreign land            them’s innocence

      them Iraniene  like me!

      life       alone in stiff suites they put on           well turned out!   like me

      come we down and this very now       up in the same wings

      our aimless flappings  asleep  and dreaming(s)

      knowing everyone from each other

      unknowing who we are           Who?!

      People try but won’t happen when they say Nay! Yes, they leave a bit for yeah

      No’s ill fitting suite they wear,            some joined the décor some wuthering some nothing!

      wherein the heart something’s passed by, thought says accept!         World echoes their nos

      Butting god though!!! they split the two and don’t know that both means one!

      forget the one... which doesn’t exist!?

      like a wave visiting the shore to come back, mesmerised by greatness this sea!

                  Ebb and flow

      of tide in the womb foetus swimming nine moons! The Moon’s no human being!

      riven mad the sea, mothers

      pregnant craving salt, why’s the beauty of the moon?

      No one asks!!!

      riding their plains, they think of little boats! A thought of what to do

      they haven’t got, how to be-have they do, they moan!

      Should the road bend the cars hoot   Hoooooooooot!

      Ask not?

      I mean the wall which Hegel bore high, was of Hegel’s straw

      we don’t live              we toy disaster

      Have no money!

      Courage!         When we ask someone in a taxi for town hall?!       we have not!

      Begotten Elders of a village in progress!!!

      Oil!?    As much as you wish!   `People?!      Little pilgrim!

       This land knows a lot of no news? 


      Prophets suddenly ended      man alone! And life’s story, everyone writes the way they want not. No map in hand! Mankind has no address!

      No one reaches themselves coming towards them who is not! Consciousness is of un

      knowing,         who knows is a dust bin         who doesn’t, ha’swallowed the trash!

      Wuthering       outside of self locking doors

      inside is under siege of a selfless nothing     that means everything!

      A hand opens its tombstone

      that’s caught in another’s door

      in yourselves   this heaven      must run!        and see!

      Heavy traffic              cars in a rage               fuuuuuuuumes!

      Them’s callin’ Leili!

      The earth’s soiled, Leili’s many! Wears love on his head      mates her         no thought on his head         not may be even love! The same paper crumpled tissues that am throwing in the bin!

      We don’t kiss! Just bring close the lips don’t fall in each others arms

      all in our arms    just holdings ...

      practising this game    life killings!

      The fellow came to my house one night looked to find him so sly! Would say one thing do another! So surreptitiously  he arrived at himself that of his self was hidden...

      My girl! I introduce my boy!

      My wedded wife this lady  This is mine!   and that...!

      No one is ours         they self belong

      for a moment Christian      a moment Muslim   Jewish    or Buddhist they are

                                         ‘cause they’re none of these

      A fugitive from the world selfishly

      hunkering in the temple    wrestling with fear

      fear means   dizzy again in giddy

      Giddy am!

      Responsible for what I write am not, you reading this committed me are!

      I’m listening to you while eavesdropping on myself

      why do you call the guy walking in himself bad?

      The world has welcomed him!

      Who are you to say...?

      When a guy comes in, side doors say welcome

      Why you...?!

      We’ve skimmed the cream of waves off the sea front     we’re at war       with whom?!

      engaging the way at the heels           an if war ends

      we remake masses of if                    from what?!

      ever-ready to defend                                     scheming to attack

      each moment we are                        till when?!

      the ones who hover self walk have no step

      the road is ambiguous                        (Tathagata!)

      wish you to followed’em       don’t ask where?        (Tao!)

      many are steps ahead   Them’s not ahead     Them’s lost?

      They paid the guy pausing at the door of Paradise: Please come in!

                      He said: No, the children are coming

                                     No they aren’t!           They say where?

      Here    you outlaw wine

      They promise somewhere a fairy is serving wine       where?

      you won’t open the door        they throw the fairy to some far....

      The newborn when he fell in the tray shrieked his cry drawn on high

      up to teenage reached and continued his cry so it grew and grew

      you’re getting old won’t give up?

      you jump at each scream that passes by your alley   where?

      the foetal pose of ‘g’ in strings of thought    any lower?!

      Stop the alleys!                      No!      They grow human beings

      should I be born anew with no choice, before the midwife slaps my footholes

      to cry and crying  I won’t let them put dot dot dot instead of what  I’d love to tell you!

      I has one letter                       and you has three

      why not break up?

      Alley is not against alley

      That which says That I am

      The tongue has a quiet in the mouth if it’s stretched its deft hand out

      I say again      torn up lots     sewn little!

      Enemies?!       we mass produce        friends few!

      We’ve sold today   so tomorrow’s sahib suddenly arrives   for what?  chasing whom?

      Always much later     much later than later!

      No good!

      Lying on our back in the toes of our foes unconscious  the thieves arrive

      what’s doing what here?

      taken off   on holiday perhaps      a few centuries of solitude        

      to this life       this alley this attic      never knowingly coming or going

      still not in the arena but

      the arena called in on house visit

      eye-gouging             cutthroat disemboweller

      so our corpse won’t bloat and float

      I’m bloated! My words are on the tip of every tongue! As they stuck out their tongue at mine they became my wife! Verbs seduced my words, they don’t know writing is a fear! A fear of I know not what to do! I am the poet of grandissimo contradictions! Not for or against society just beyond the thing!

      I’m busy directing the girlhood of a poem that one day will disembark from house to house...

      I’m in love with ruddy cheeks and .... slapped in the face-cum-no-one like pretty to take my hand for herself?

      As many gods as many have this land has skies                    a have-not!

      And may the meaning of Lady be raising this up?

      Gentlemen! Never raised my hand  for one  on anyone!

      I’m one of those rare fickle types who prowl around the differences of questions!

      I’m the difference between the differences of the world!

      A bridge on thoughts that surround all around me

      and sometimes I think, thought is a stone that from a distance is thrown towards me

      become the landlord of homeless thoughts    director missing!

      director means the man whose recalls                        I have!

      Should I wish to die I must live I know, but should I die who will bear all this solitude, who?

      Tonight my bedroom light won’t go on no one knows why!?

      looking at the picture of someone who wants to sneeze        they won’t let it                       who?

      in reverse of me this picture is looking for the landlord         I wasn’t there?

      Didn’t want to withhold wanted to catch it AT CHEewW!

      The other night had the air of getting kicked I had called her name it was the wind’s fault! It threw my voice two three meters over till it got in the ear of the girl who came back instead:

      Ha! I’ve changed a lot, no!?

      was real crass!

      Alone  she was so alone that even a tramp wouldn’t travel with her                      I did!

      she was a support       I was leaning on a vacuum!

      us two ever     so in love        love we didn’t understand     means erect!

      and be butchered

      I didn’t understand    I was with you                       you not there"

      just two bedraggled eyes endeavoured your picture

      just two hands of nights have stretched to the skies

      and yes  good no        bestowed me lot to  good god

      Getting old my boy    where’s your hair!?

      I forgot it at the bazaar, Tehran-like people were dizzy like Tehran on a Saturday

      whose Sunday was the disgusted reason of weekdays, in trance one night I transited to the day when I saw you here, when I returned you weren’t like pretty, and my hands caught in your warm embrace I forgot to take off!

      Into the other that hard slapped my ear I ran, and happened upon a girl arriving like pretty

      My fresh Leila

      like a leech

      on my right arm

      is etched on my identity card

      and whichever exam she passed    marked F!

      but for the ivy climbing  ivy the house façade had no hand

      wouldn’t come up my street

      We’d go to her house, the street and I!

      A lit window   up there        fallen on high

      that night      tomorrow      coughing in South West      wouldn’t come

      scalping redskins tacked on carry attack a tack

      My spouse was shut          bathed and showered inside my heart      she left!

      A pair of hands knotted round my waist she badly forgot to take off  she left!

      she no longer came round   even if the house went round a lot gone   not gone!

      There           the sun         had risen to the sky

      Tuesday was on the table

      in here          from behind the window     she was prodding their house!

      Could hear the vacuum cleaner everywhere!

      No show!      and her mother showed up and cleaned our house!

      Leaves on high    tremblings             roots in the deep creepings

      Freud in depth     shovings

      Jung yin and yang renderings

      motherings, not lovings but upbringings and spewings  bringing the children up one by one! Ach so roof tops            baskings!

      twice prostrate     don’t know shame, had taken Pa   out of the house one day to return a warm baker!

      in through the window came an unbounded hand!    lounged around, came to my bedroom, let go she’s not there! what a senseless grapple with myself have I to become human?   Is it compulsory? won’t become one!

      standing alone everywhere                              Pa has grown up  Ma... Hey Mr!    Have you not seen our house!?

      should look so I won’t forget listen to this roundabout, the mortar bridge and the fishmongers who sold a youth to Tehran.  Should say hi to the motor rickshaw so ma Ma won’t lose ma Pa! to these people going home in their espadrilles looking askance at me one should...     How do I look?

      in my apartment,  myself! a tide of tourists promenading, I have to enter the No Entry! visit the back market, ask the price of mackerel  to price the price! So like, like always one must be like everyone like tired I am  like always of everyone. I have to            in a town that forbids offence   offend!

      I have to thigh into the Shrine of Ali!

      Salaam to Ali resident La Elaha el Allah me resident La Elaha el Allah O residents of La Elaha el Allah, Me La Elaha el Allah    La...La!

      My voice is warmed by your ear! Anyone who forgets me will abolish you! Me called after this and that! Am not! It’s just to trick the world. These thoughts are all guests in me. The previous and the next poems live! They must go so I tend meself if you want I’ll have nothing to do with you if not I’ll follow you around, I’ve anchored in Anchorage so me Pa can finish this fake

      When I arrived I told me Ma I had a dream last night she brought me tea            my dream came true!

      Had arrived at a simple door that I’m looking for in the dark that followed me in the dark till when...?!

                      I came back!

      In the street the hooting was continuous. In my right pocket hearing was deaf. Sudden screech of brakes, purchased a pedestrian, and shoved it in his trouser pocket and I’m conked drunk  on the bar counter! On this same pound note           put a plaster on my brow  Blood                 won’t stop!

      I have drop by drop from me dripping          and have not      

      My tomorrow’s lost in the week Sunday bored Monday beat Tuesday Sun Moon Mars wed on red nose day guide to underworld, fifth day Guru prostrates   numbered days marching  snails      involuting in nothing!


      Dictionary            Rewrite!

      1.  Karbala is a sacred city in Iraq where the shrine of Hosein a grandson of Mohammad and saint of Shiism is situated.

      Abdolrezaei Ali
      Abdolrezaei Ali
      Shahrjerdi Parham masculin
      Wormser Gérard masculin
      Terror and Other Poems
      Abdolrezaei Ali
      Département des littératures de langue française
      Sens public 2009-07-01
      Chroniques iraniennes
      Video et son