Thief                                                                                                                   
        
It was late at night when we returned
from the party, both tired ready to get
some sleep. As I turned the key, I
noticed the door was unlocked.
Something was wrong. Cautiously I
nudged the door open just to face a
half-empty house. We’d been
burglarized.

Neither the television nor the leather
sofa in front of it remained. My
favorite ottoman wasn’t there. The
VCR, the camcorder and the stereo
system were all gone.

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Déjà Vu   

After driving through the crowded
morning streets, I circled the block
for the second time and victoriously
slipped into the ultimate parking
spot—the one right across from my
office.  This unprecedented event
brightened my morning. As I was
locking the car door and grinning to
myself I noticed a small-framed man
standing on the sidewalk
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End of a Day

Last day of the month when Mr.
Mahan woke, he had a bitter taste
in his mouth.  After breakfast he
checked his mailbox and found a
letter, one with no sender’s
address. When he looked at the
recipient’s address he was
puzzled, it was written in his own
handwriting as it was written
today. He really freaked out when
he noticed the postmark. The letter
was mailed over 30 years ago.

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Jacob                                                         
        

He covered his ears with the
palms of his hands and rose from
his chair at the pile of papers on
his desk, he threw his pen aside,
massaged his aching fingers and
staggered toward his bed in the
corner. The roaring wind rattled
the window panes. An
excruciating pain radiated through
his spine and while he was
whizzing, he wondered why
autumn was not his favorite
season.
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Girl behind the
window
                   
different from where she grew up.
The street below was overrun with
the crowd. Tons of young people
were gathered in small circles,
passionately arguing.  Some held
signs, waving them furiously, heads
moved back and forth and hands
cut the air like knives. She’d never
seen people that excited before—
what could have made so many
people so angry? She wondered.
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Baby Bride

The best day of my life was when
mom bought me the Princess
Saba in her long white dress
covered with thousands of
colorful tinsels. Her lush blonde
hair falling over her chest was so
shiny that when in stared at them
it was like staring into the sun.
Her eyes were blue, the type that
open and close. Every day I
combed her hair, I touch her
breasts hoping one day mine
would grow like them. My only
wish was to become a bride just
like the Princess with blonde hair,
blue eyes, red lips and white
gown.  
Princess Saba always slept in my
bed.
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Abstract

After debating myself for
months, I finally decided to
take the art class. I always
wanted to create. This dream
seemed so within my reach
after I read the course
description of the local
community college. It read,
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Real Me

I was kidnapped from the
maternity ward of a hospital after
birth. When this appalling incident
happened, to avoid a scandal, the
hospital authorities took the
unidentified baby in the next crib
whose parents had abandoned him
on the street and gave him to my
parents. I am someone else.  I
could have been a normal baby
growing up in a normal family and
became a functional adult, but my
destiny was not written this
way.   
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Colors of Dream    

In a day unlike others,
Two toddlers sat alone
Out of their parents’ sight.
They exchanged no words,
They just didn’t know how.
With their jolly impulses,
Expressions and gestures
They expressed their eagerness

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Interview with a Long Story
Short  
http://www.alongstoryshort.net

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Shadow

One gray night
In the corner of cold
Under the absent moonlight
With a suspicious gaze
Through a window frame
That did not open to anywhere
A shadow I saw
That has never been
Is not
And will never be
Yes, in the nick of time
When it passed by
The huge tree of memory
Trying to escape
My glance
For a second I saw
Lost

The taste of tobacco has poisoned
my mouth, my entire being is
bitter. I’stretch my torso and
emerge from The taste of tobacco
has poisoned my mouth, my entire
being is bitter. I’out the tarnished
window.  The m nauseated when I
sluggishly careless rain has soaked
every crooked building, scrubbed
the dirty asphalt and now is
pouring down the broken gutters.
Its guilty claws scratched every
wall and its culprit fingerprints are
all over this town. The sewers are
puking in disgust.
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Homeless                                                                   
When the city ordinance in U.S.
major cities prohibited Homeless
from sleeping under bridges, on
park benches, and on sidewalks,
the Homeless issue became
number one public concern.
Although homelessness was the
hot issue of the day, majority of
people remained uninformed of its
root causes.
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In the Margin

I live in a nice suburb with lots of nice
houses and fancy yards.  Rich gringos
always need their lawns taken care of
and that’s all we do. We do weekly
mowing, trimming and mulching. We
also repair sprinkler systems, fix
broken fences, clean chimneys and
replace blown shingles off the roofs.
We’re a full service company called
Green Yard Lawn.  I started my
business three years ago and worked
hard and long hours by myself to get
where I am. Now I run a successful
business with two trucks and total of
five employees, four cousins and one
nephew.
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Car in Reverse

Is he awake or lost in a lucid dream?
Drifting in a car beyond his reverie
The car shifts to reverse thrusts at high speed
A frightening journey to abyss.
Too bizarre to be real, he wonders
As he’d already seen this farce happening
Then he wakes just to realize
His runaway car swears to left and right
On the same path of his dreams
The helpless driver in silence
Watching his destiny revealed.
Nothing he can do to alter
The ominous reality or the fantasy
A terrified witness, that’s all he is
Doomed to discern a horrific crash
Before or after his awakening  
End of Semester

I wander in a haze, lost in a bizarre
trance
Found myself on a college campus
and see
Some students are chatting, others
in rush to class
All holding books in their hands
Everyone has a purpose, a reason
to hang around
Why am I here? I cannot
understand
The eerie setting gives me the
creeps,
Anxiety beyond belief
Suddenly I realize, I too am a
student
Today is end of semester
Time for final exam, yet
The textbook, I don’ have
The subject, I have no clue
I’ve never been to class
I ask others to show me the way
To where I take the final exam
Roam trough buildings to reach my
class
Look through the window inside
the room
Students are seated, the test in
progress  
Too late I must be! For what
however, I never grasp  
My heart is pounding thinking what
to do
At the end of this affair  
Nervously I nudge the door
And wake up wondering why  
Such a peculiar dream, I
continuously have
We have everything
Contrary to my expectations, my
ten years old nephew who was
not surprised to see the slinky I’
d brought him as a souvenir
from the United States said, “We
have slinky too. Next time we go
to Bazaar, I’ll show it to you
amoo jaan or as you Americans
say dear uncle. Whatever you
find in America we have it right
here in Iran.
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Screw

A screw, a defective one, that’s what I
am. Pay attention! I’m not a nail. Nails
are flat head with no character I say.
They’re straightforward, I’m not. They
have no twists and turns, I do. They’re
easy going, I’m not.  Just hit a nail on
the head and it obediently does its job, I
don’t. You can easily straighten a
crooked nail with a hammer and it
works as good as new but hit me like
that and you’ll see what happens. I get
even....

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Procrastinator
When he opened his eyes in the
morning, he was seventy years
old and it was time to re-evaluate
his life. He sat behind his desk
and carefully recorded all his
The list was long.

It started with his well crafted
plot to failure to accomplish this
mission had taken a heavy toll on
him.  Later in life he’d kissed so
many yet none replaced the one
he never had.
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How to Get a Heart Attack

The most convenient way of
achieving a your stress level. And
the best method to raise your stress
is to torment yourself because you’
re a complete failure. Always try to
overlook your achievements in life-
if you had any- and concentrate on
your weaknesses and magnify your
shortcomings. Remember failure is
the key to success.
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Cultural Relativism

“Have you met our new
neighbors?” Bob asked his wife,
peering out their kitchen window,
sipping his cold beer.
“Not yet. They just moved in a
few days ago.” Pork chops were
sizzling in the pan. “After they
settle in, we should go and meet
them.” She responded.
“They look funny, where are they
from?” He was ready to sink his
teeth into a juicy piece of meat,
the highlight of his upcoming
weekend.
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Prize         

When I got home exhausted from
another hectic day at work, I
threw myself on the sofa and
turned on the television. I’d fallen
into my routine, lying on the
couch, flipping through the
channels aimlessly. I didn’t want
to do anything especially the honey-
do’s. Oh, and I just could not bear
thinking of the pile of paperwork
on my desk waiting for me the
next morning.  
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Mr.
Biok
                                                  

When I look back at my childhood, I see
a barefoot kid running after a ball. My
main pastime, just like every other boy in
our neighborhood, was to chase a striped
plastic ball we’d all chipped in to buy for
8 Rials. That’s all we needed to have fun.
Our street was full of players of all ages,
starting with little ones like myself to
those with faces blanketed in mustaches
and beards. We all shared the same
passion.
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Sinful Urge

Neither the soothing sound of breeze,
nor the tweeting birds or the melody
of rain played on the stereo system in
my bedroom gave me the comfort I
deserved. My mind was inescapably
trapped by a grueling urge throwing
my entire body into painful disarray.  
Once again I was captivated by an
insatiable craving in the middle of the
night. By hardly lifting my eyelids, I
was persuaded by the heavy burden
of their weight it was too early to be
tomorrow, the torment was bound to
linger on.   
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Cold Rain

Didn’t I stroll under its refreshing mist a
thousand times? Didn’t it make me wet
on the way to school? Didn’t it ruin my
homework times and again? Didn’t the
young palms of my hands endure the
sting of punishment every time? Didn’t
it give me the cold, the congested nose
and the cough and the horrible taste of
cough syrup afterward?  Didn’t I drop
the vitamin C tablet in a glass of water,
dazzled with the fizzle and down it with
a frown? Wasn’t it all because of rain?

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Adam and Eve
Adam was sleeping on his back,
snoring loudly. His annoying noise
echoed through the cave and kept
Eve from sleeping a wink. The
moment she dozed off, his
unpleasant sounds woke her. She
finally rolled over and gripped his
nose shut ‘til he couldn’t breathe.
Adam’s chest shook violently and
jumped awake.   

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PREMONITION                                
                                                     

“Would you like another
one?” The man sitting at the
bar offered a drink to the
beautiful woman next to him.

“Ah. I don’t think so, I’m
getting tipsy,” she said.

“That’s what Friday night is
for,” he chuckled.

“Are you trying to get me
drunk?” The stranger beauty
said in a seductive tone while
playing with the empty glass
in her hand.     

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The Old Picture
Where was I? I questioned
Every time I gazed
At the shades of gray
On the vintage photo
Of my brother and pregnant Mom
Where was I?
The gloomy faces etched on the
paper
Made me wonder

“You were there. Outside the frame"
My sister told me once  

For so many years
I’ve examined the lines
Of the grim faces
Frozen in time
Searched for a truth
If it ever was  
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Lucky Night

“Congratulations, Mr. Grand. We all
the one you purchased a week ago. It
almost doubled today.” The security
guard grinned holding the heavy glass
door open for the investment banker.

Grand called over his shoulder “Thank
you, Roger. Remember, nothing is
random. Everything happens for a
reason.” He adjusted the lapel of his
Armani suit and made his way down
the dimly-lit alley to his Mercedes
Benz.  

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Utterance    
“Hmm.” That’s all I hear from
her. She makes this sound to
show me she’s which happens
frequently, she sits silently, stares
into my eyes and listens. I can
trace her words. I love the way
she scratches her right ear.

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Encounter

Once again, the same pervert
followed me in the darkest streets
of my nights but he’d never
managed to catch me yet. When I
run out of breath and the split
second before he lays a hand on
me, I usually trip and hit my head
on a curb or crash into traffic light
pole on the street corner and wake
up in cold sweat. The minute I fall
asleep, I have to run for my life. I’
nightmare over and again.
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Prisoner
I reside on the top level of a
skyscraper, so high in the sky
that I’m too scared to look
window-the only opening to
down. When I look out the
outside world- all I see is
thick cloud below and infinite
sky above. My residence has
no door.  I have no way of
communicating with outside
world, if such thing exists. I’
ve lived in a solitary
confinement all my life, yet I
have no complains.   
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Christmas Eve
“Go talk to your professors, do
something. The entire summer you
you nothing,” she wiped her tears.
“I owe them tuitions for the last two
semesters.”
“Talk to the Foreign Students
Advisor. Tell her we’ve two small
kids.”
“I already did. She said that’s the
university policy. If there is a
balance, they garnish my income.”
“They do what to your income?”  
 

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Conversation in Park  
The entire week I worried about
the day off. Chores I’d postponed
for months. The gutter was falling
off the wall, letting rain to seep
under the foundation. The worse
were our lack luster antique dining
chairs. I’d already bought
sandpaper, a paintbrush, thinner
and varnish to give them a make-
up.
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Waiting                                                         
The old man is here to visit his son, he
does that every month. Now he must
be sitting alone in his son’s empty room
gazing through his thick glasses at the
tarnished flowers woven into the heart
of the Persian rug. Once again I go
there and stand by the door watching
him in silence.
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Apocalypse        

On the porch leaning against the wall
with a cup of coffee in my hand, I
was wondering if I was qualified to
refinance my home mortgage at a
lower rate. The voice of the
meteorologist on the television who
said “enjoy your sunny weekend” in
the background echoed in my ears.  
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Nuisance Hope

In the winter of my garden
The luscious green is dormant,
And the yard inundated with weeds
Only a few blown dandelions in sight
Four silent raindrops in a row
On a slender leaf of a crabgrass
Morphed into the crystals of ice
Before my bewildered eyes
I cry and my tear falls
Right between the frozen bulbs.
My fallen tear
Shivering in the breeze  
A heavy burden
On the frail slender grass.
I moan in sorrow
But my hazy sigh
Turns into a morning dew
One more frozen marble
On the fragile nuisance weed.
It finally breaks
We all fall
Shatter on the ground.
My only hope is
If the warm spring
Arrives early
My sigh blended in tear
Germinate the nuisance weed
Once again in coming year.
Trial

To the right stands the accused.
In the center, a black-robed judge
sits behind the bench and to the
left are five white-robed angels.

Judge says (flipping through
pages of a file): Cause of death?

Accused: Concussion and severe
head injury due to torture.

Judge: The file says suicide.

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In the Realm of Reality
...Deep inside I could not blame people
for thinking this way though. But I was
hoping to be discriminated against in a
McDonald's or Wal-Mart so I could
sue the hell out of them. My looks
could have come to my rescue at least
once! But contrary to my expectations,
that never happened.
guiltless man on the run, waiting to get
caught just to prove his innocence...
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Gypsy    

I was born in Ahvaz, a city in
there until I reached 9 years
old. Those days we mocked
anyone unlike us,
non-Moslems and people who
spoke with different accents
were our best subjects. We
took the most delight in
scoffing those who dressed
differently.

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Heroes
Heroes are bones in our conscious graves,
Perished in prisons, exiled in solitude.
And there’re traitors, imperfect idols,
Damaged goods
Who failed to live up to our ethical code.

Heroes are free, they don’t cost any
So it’s good to have a few,
To use as we please.
Like the sardines, cream cheese,
And ketchup when we eat.
Next to bandage, cough syrup
An aspirin for quick relief.
They don’t take space
Shuffled in a pile of vintage photos,
Lost in the lines of our unread books.

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Annoying Corpse

“The old people who refuse to die
are annoying and the ones who
return from dead are nothing short
of obnoxious.”

Mr. Nader was morbidly still in his
rocking chair throughout the
vengeance of Rambo. He didn’t even
blink when Rambo pierced the villains’
bodies with his razor sharp dagger and
his serenity was not disturbed when
the blood of the ruthless mercenaries
splashed all over the widescreen
television screen.  
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Best Buy

“An old lady with an innocent face
and a huge hand bag, the perfect
combination to pull off a petty
crime.”

“What’re you up to now?”
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Most Stupid Race of All!
A racially insensitive
commentary
Although, the title of this article is
not politically correct, the readers
are advised not to fly off the
handle just yet because I'm not
referring to any of the
color-coded races as we know
them. It's not about White, Black,
Yellow, Red, or Stripes. There is
no factual evidence confirming
that any of these "races" being
more or less stupid than the
others.
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Vincent and Franz

Vincent and Franz were my neighbors
when I was young
Each lived in a corner house at the end
Of our dead end alley invisible to naked
eyes.
Where was this neighborhood? Some
people ask.
The ones who know where I was born
Don’t believe a word of mine.
Iran has no foreigners
Let alone two in your side of town.  
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First Crime        

No one has ever been
sentenced to a more severe
punishment called
education as young as I
was.
“I don’t know how to
punish him anymore, I ran
out of ideas, I tried
everything,” my mother
said to my father one night
as tears were running
down her face. And the
next day my sentence was
carried out. I was three
years old.  
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Standing on One Foot

One day as I was standing on
one foot
In the back corner of the room
To get punished for
Causing commotion in the class,
The superintendent knocked on
the door,
Stuck his bald head inside
And called my name out loud.
Students turned their heads
wondering
What other rules had I violated
this time.  
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Bicycle Thief

Reading newspapers is one of my
hobbies. I usually go to the local
library, grab a stack of papers
from different cities and read the
news. I like to read about people
and especially interested in local
crime reports.
 More
Insomnia                       

“Don’t. Don’t make a move. Let me
crush you right on the spot.  You’ll
be punished for invading my privacy
in the middle of the night.  I declared
its death sentence with a swatter in
my hand, but the fly on the wall
wasn’t afraid.  It was mocking me
with its repulsive compound eyes the
very moment I issued the death
warrant. The second I raised my
hand, it flew off the wall and crashed
into the window glass, and circled
the room like a maniac.  I patiently
waited for the right time.

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Soldier
In the name of God
In defense of motherland,
For the cause of liberty
The purity of race
Or all of the above
I’ve shed so much blood
In history of mankind and
Died millions of times.   
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A Game of Backgammon
Or Clash of Cultures

A few nights ago, I was in the mood for
playing a relaxing game of backgammon
on the Internet, the game I learned from
masters in my childhood. There are a few
advantages in playing backgammon on the
Internet. Cheating is impossible and
Korkory (bragging and trash talk) is
optional as one can turn off the chat
feature.
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Missing Man

This was not the first time I
engaged in such unusual
transactions, I found it to be a tad
more dignified than bumming a
cigarette.  One out of five people
whom I pitched this deal, refused to
accept the money and offered me
one for gratis, he was not one of
them.   

“Thanks you so much, I was this
close to cave in.” My index finger
touched my thumb before his eyes.
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A Work of Art

One day an artist who was
exploring nature, stumbled across
a rock, a rough piece with jagged
edges and sharp corners.  In this
unrefined granite, he saw a wild
and natural beauty, so he took it
home to create art.

For days and weeks and months,
he gradually carved his anger,
engraved his passion and
imprinted his love. He chiseled his
pain,
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Dream of Mirror

The cold autumn breeze, this enigmatic
brush
Deviously paints the winter
And while I’m making love
In red, yellow and orange
Of the fallen leaves,
Throws me into a silky abyss
Beyond the snowy horizon.
I close my eyes wondering
Perhaps spring is imprisoned far in reverie.
In the hazy dream of mirror
A man’s tarnished shadow appears
Pretending to be asleep
Yet, his eyelids jerk,
Not breathing in harmony.
And the pity is,
No one would ever recall,
The illusive spring of his rogue fantasy.
Bright Daylight

Sky is bright
Face of eternal blue
Is not tainted by clouds.
Storm is not hiding
To ambush the calm
Cold rain is not falling
To quench a burning fever,
Winter is not on the way
To draw the frozen love
On the fogged window.
The universe is not
Conspiring today
Sky is shiny, air so clear  
The wind is visible
Its majestic voyage  
Reflects on fantasy.  
Then why is it so sad
To witness the breeze when
In silence of our presence
Crush thousands of
Blown wishes
Of dandelions to the ground.
My Beloved!

What are you?
To me perhaps,
The distant memories
Of a rowdy child.
The Goosebumps
In the cold dark cinema
With a frosty Pepsi in.
Or perhaps,
The garlic flavor of bologna
The orange color of Fanta

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Jinn

According to Islamic mythology and
Persian folklore Jinn or genies are
creatures that live in parallel world to
that of mankind.  

My ominous association with ghosts
goes back to my early childhood
years. Aunt Sedighe, my father’s
youngest sister lived in Shoushtar,
one of the oldest cities in the world,
dating back to Achaemenian dynasty
(400 BC). Shoushtar used to be the
winter capital of Sassanian dynasty
and it was built by the Karoun River.
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Happiness

I know happiness exists
I felt it in the nap I took
On my aunt Zari’s lap
I savored it in
The curry stew
It was in white velvet
Of the first snow I ever saw
And in darkness
Of the Van Gogh’s Starry Night.
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Darkness

When darkness creeps inside me
I watch it with despair
When it fills my soul
I touch it with tenderness
And when it lurks in solitude
I keep it company
Maybe it has something to say
Maybe I need to listen
Maybe I must learn

Axiom

I would never die if I wasn’t born!
Inferno

How I reached the sky?
I don’t know
Why?
An impulse perhaps
To share the joy

As I gazed into heaven
When the clouds painted the
canvas
White on deepest blue
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Unfaithful                                              

“Is something wrong? At least tell me what
this is about?” She is alarmed.

“I really can’t explain it over the phone.”

“I’m not meeting with a perfect stranger
unless I know what the heck is going on. I’
m hanging up right now... Unless you tell
me what this is about…”
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Fictional Character

From where I sit behind my
computer desk, I can always
hear the rumbling of his truck
before I turn my head to see
him shoving the articles of
mail into the mail boxes. The
mailman reaches our street
everyday around eleven. I
admire his driving skills, the
way he maneuvers his little
white truck to fit in between
the two parked cars on either
side of my mailbox.   
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Hook                         

As I do every night I took just a sip of
water before I went to bed. If I drink
more, I wake up in the middle of the night
for a trip to bathroom and the tormenting
insomnia afterward is inevitable. I’ve
learned by experience that water at night
epitomizes shattered dreams and painful
awakening. Then I tucked myself in and
just before closing my eyes, I glanced at
the image of myself victoriously parading
my prized catch dangling from the fishing
line wrapped around my wrist hanging in
the frame above my bed.

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Anthem of Lambs

Bah, bah, bah, bah
We lambs are gentle creatures
Never harm anyone
Peace and harmony
Green pasture and spring weather
That’s all we love
This is our nature.
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On the Edge

Standing on the edge
Of insanity and reason
Wondering which way to fall
To live the life.

What a quandary it is
Choosing between one
It’s impossible to set them apart.

One delves into the other for so long
To discover its own image in the mirror.

Disenchanted madness and sanity
Stare at reflection and
Laugh and laugh and laugh
Realizing how absurd and ridiculous
The other one looks.


Rogue Imagination

Ink spilled, smeared the paper
Stain ravaged the page
Wild fantasies and raw emotions
Were formed.
Then enemies clashed
A silent chaos was portrayed
In presence of calm
Vivid fear, fading hope, chronic despair
Etched in paper before my eyes.

Dark fluid soaked the surface
Splattered ink pierced the core
When random blobs morphed
Characters were born
An eerie poem was revived
A vague mélange of fantasy
Rhythmic expression of awe
Inundated with daring questions
Fake quotations, redundant periods
Exclamations all along!
My existence suddenly
Came to life
Nothing makes any sense
Neither the haunting images
Nor the melancholic words.
Echo

You’re nothing
A pale reflection
Of nothingness is nothing at all.

Don’t ricochet in my emptiness
You aimless noise
So I hear a voice to feel alive,
That’s so cruel.

Go away
Strike others
Disappear in the crowd
Get absorbed by anyone
Not by me anymore
Get lost
And forever
Leave me alone.
An Absurd Story

Come! Listen to my story
And judge with your heart.
It starts somewhere, not where it should.
It has all the elements, not in right places.
It has a plot that makes no sense.
Characters are there
But they’re not themselves.
Dialogs are fancy, all so meaningless
Everything is absurd
And the irony is
I have no power to make any change.
One thing is certain
Like any other tale
Mine, one day ends
Sooner or later!
Guns and consciousness
In memory of victims of elementary
school massacre

What is wrong with us
Fallen in love with our guns?
Obsessed with an outdated right
“Of the people to bear arms”
Written two centuries ago
“A well regulated Militia to secure a
free state.”
Is that why we worship guns?
When was the last time
People deterred the tyranny of their
government
Formed Militia with guns in their
hands?

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What I loved

First I fell in love with sour cherries
Then the girl next door
Later books, freedom and justice

None worked out well so far
A cherry gave me a choke once
The girl’s father slapped me around
Reading was illegal
Blacklisted I was, on the run,
Justice came after me
Landed in prison for a long time

And now,
Cherries, love and freedom
Taste bitter in my mouth.
Dream

I am interpretation of my dreams
A shattered mirror of reverie
Fragmented fantasies
Disjointed thoughts
Piece together by magic
To form days of my life.

That’s
What
How
And who I am
The personification of
My own dreams.

Nothing real will happen tomorrow
If it’s not in my dreams tonight
Or the nights I had before.
Nothing has ever been real
Had it not been present
In my dreams prior.

Life is a trance
An illusion on stage
I play an active role
In a theater of a sort
Reality is
I don’t see dreams
Dreams are seeing me.
Specter

When I roam the alleys of fantasy,
Plunge into the  maze of desire,
The paradise of the whim
When I vanish in the rouge shade of caprice,
Drowned in the abyss  
When survival whiter in the velvet of dream  
How uninhabited I am, how free I feel
A vice or virtue this privilege is? I wonder
A blissful ecstasy, that all it is.
Ambivalence

The inner world of mine and the outer collide
In the haze of explosion fantasy is born
Mere existence forms my dreams
Only in dreams I feel alive
It’s no longer possible to tell them apart
My ambivalence is vague and inconceivable, I know  
Yet,
I can live with it; why no one else tries?
Buried Treasure

Buried for thousands of years
The fabric of the soul
The collective conscience of the man
Indeed, that wandering spirit is alive
It crushes into my dream, Ignites a fire
A sight, a sense, aroma, a melody perhaps
Sparks reminiscence of not the past,
Of the future in fact
That’s the exotic mélange,
The vision I have time to time
The crux of what I feverishly inscribe.
Reality and Truth

There is reality
And there is truth
Enigma is the link of the two
Reality lives without truth
Alas, truth exists only
If understood in real
Moment    
He left work at 5 sharp preoccupied with
the faulty lock on the laundry room door in
the garage. Last week his wife assigned
him an urgent maintenance job.

“The door locked by itself and I had to use
my key to get into the house, make sure to
fix it,” she said.
“I’ll have to get a new lock for it,” he
replied.

And just to be on the safe side, he hung an
extra key on a hook in the garage.  Every
minor issue of the house was potentially a
huge headache.

“I was busy this week; I’ll get it done this
weekend. In the meantime, if you get
locked out, just use the extra key by the
door.”
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I drown

In a stormy night when I drown
Colors lose luster in the dark
The only dimension I fathom
Is depth
Foamy mouth bitter with wave
Hands wilted to life  
Standing on nothing
Eyes are dark cavities in which
The cold wind is hissing
Heart is bleeding
Bits and pieces
Hope floating afar
And I
Desperately cling to sparse of
Withering desire of
Fanciful dreams.
Death of Light

“The spectacular and historic event we are
about to witness in sky, although is a once
in a life time display, will not affect our
lives in a meaningful way. Human race is
technologically far more advanced to be
concerned with minor alteration. Life will
go on as usual.” A prominent
astrophysicist explained the upcoming
cosmetic change on a major news
network. His belief was shared by fellow
religious, political and civic leader on the
panel.
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Dream or Not

We are what we dream
And dream is what we are

We are who we dream
And dream is who we are

What we are and are not
Who we are and are not
Is all in a dream

We are; because we dream
Dream is; because we are!
I Will Become Rain

When the wind blows
Scatters my ashes;
Then
Particles of my being
Rise to sky
Sigh and blue unite

When birds take my wishes
To dark clouds
Heaven cries
And
A drop of sigh
Locked in a crystal of light  
Will gently fall

That’s how destiny
Once again
Sows me deep in the ground

From the sigh one day
Hope germinates
As green as spring
As pure as water
And as innocent as daylight
Solitude

In the center of a circle I feel outside
Well defined I seem, so unknown I am
In the frame I pose, yet
The image is distorted
The picture never fits  

In the climax of ecstasy
My resin was poured
Out of spite
Let’s call it destiny  
Product was deformed  

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Fidelity Ring

The Wedding Ring of the
Future      
                                   

To All Married Women:

  If your husband is a man and he has in his
possession a fully functional male organ then he is
genetically designed to cheat on you, it’s just a
matter of when and not if.  And if you don’t
know this truth, you’re either naive or completely
dumb.

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I don’t know what life is
Perhaps
A hollow tomorrow of today
As today is of the day before  
But death is a decaying reminiscence
That leaves a lasting impression on you.

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A Few Recommendations to Stop
Airborne Terrorism

Idea #1

TSA agents stationed at airports security
checkpoints must profile the hell out of
Middle Eastern looking travelers especially
bearded young men. Unshaved women
should also be screened.

Screening Guidelines:

Qualified profilers examine passengers
waiting in line and tap on the shoulders of
suspects. The suspect steps forward to go
through a rigorous interrogation and
screening while other passengers give them
a standing ovation for their improper
national origin and religion and for
providing others a hassle free travel
experience.

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