Sunday, April 30, 2006

he

He tells me he is nothing, I tell him his every little cell worthed more than a billion unworthy lives.
He tells me he's got nothing worthy during his time, I tell him he has got my love.
He tells me he is lonely I tell him, he has got me all these time, side by side.
He tells me he is left behind, I tell him I am on his side, I won’t leave him behind.
He tells me he have not had fun in his life, I tell him in my all entire life, being with him has been my fun.
He tells me it is late, his time has gone; I tell him, he is just at the right time.
He tells me he has been slave all the time, I tell him to look around if he can see GOD around.
He tells me life is not fair, I tell him what did he expect, this is unworthy earth.
He tells me he is tired, I tell him, he still is alive.
He tells me he needs to rest, I offer him my shoulder.

saloume nakhsaz

smoking is not good for your health

I never quit smoking so I can taste the bitterness in my mouth, then I never get this illusion of sweet taste of possibilities which may take place in my life.
I never leave my cigarette away, so nothing tastes what they wanted to me to taste, I want to have the taste of this cloudy, edgy, foggy, numb, light, and a little brightness on the top of it, it is not shiny it is just light, as light as the world could be not more not less.
I can see through it and not more, I get the taste of the real days.
They say it shortens the life’s length. So what? What is going to happen after the shortage of my life which I’ll maybe miss?
Life is completed by the time; my cigarette decides to end. I am certain about it.
It helps me to lose my aggressive appetite for foods which I rather not to have, so I don’t get the pleasure of being filled and satisfied with this unworthy dirt barrier.
It stops me for having an invalid sex which I rather not to go for.
It helps me not to drink alcohol as much as I desire,
It balances my life and it gives me the pleasure of my lonesome, it is just about me and it, and the cute little light and the nice cloud takes me to my own charming dreams which are not possible to come true in this earth for every certain cause.
It is my prayer to my soul, my God.
It is my intend to see through its ashes left. These ashes are: The ruins of my time, which has passed by, the ruins of my laughter which has ended. the ruins of my tears which have gone, the ruins of my childhood which has left, the ruins of my youth which has busted , the ruins of the sunrise which has disappeared, the ruins of my womb which had given birth, the ruins of my shadow which has stopped coming with me in the dark side of my life, the ruins of my homeland which has destroyed. the ruins of my never ending dreams till ( it )decides to end; of course with my true companionship.

saloume nakhsaz

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

she

she is still unable to hear. Yes she is still deaf.
She is still full of grace and she still does sins a little here and there.
she still dances like a light bird, floated in to the soft sky. She still wears red lip gloss and red skirt.
she still calls everyone by their nicknames.
She still has night mare when she watches scary movies, oh I forgot to tell you that she loves watching scary movies. She still brushes her hair before going to bed and she still washes her make up at night, oh yes she still wears lovely make up. She doesn’t believe in any beauty surgery though she is neither against it.
She still catches the fashion news and she still read love poems.
She still smiles while she is passing by stranger and she still says hi to everyone.
She still has healthy diet and she still pays attention to the flowers.
She still has allergy to dust, and she still loves to live in the heart of the town.
She still goes to the bookshop and she still buys books with fancy covers. She still buys cute under wares and she still does her nail with the pink touch.
She still wears high heels and she still has charming look.
She still carries colorful bags; she still enjoys the sound of the sea.”” she says so”.
She still drinks a glass of wine every night and she still goes to sleep with love songs on.
She still writes letters to the old lover and she still gets back some love letters.
She still wears nice perfumes and she still blushes when a man is charming.
She still wakes up with hope in her life and she still has a few lovers.
She still is the only one who lives her life.
I always wonder maybe it is because of not hearing anything just the sound of pure life by heart.