“The Thousand Blind Eyes Of Butterfly”
The Thousand Blind Eyes Of Butterfly
Elahe Rahroniya(Noshad)
Poem Collection
:Read some poems from this collection
Copyright belongs to the author and taking any advantage or adaptation from the books, photos or paintings will be prosecuted.
The Birth
Steal the escape from me
Pick me up and hang me on your ears
And house me in the center of a home,
stoves are burning
and lit all around.
My gaze is stuck to the whiteness of the ceiling
And a snow ball threatens me from there.
Cover my eyes with your eyes
With stove,
a clown hat,
and a birth day cake.
I need
the birth
The execution of
which and
where
And death of question marks,
And a long cry
As long as the escape
And a far, far away land
From addicted hands
to the seam of the window,
And waiting for a happening,
which makes going laugh,
And Contraction ,
and perplexity.
I hate contraction
And ambush and weapon store
And any presumption of terror, and
The veil-wearing men, and
The elegy-singer Knights,
in the shrines
And sparkle of going is lit in my eyes
I am an underground patient,
my inner wails have riddled the Earth’s core,
Like a cheese
It’s a hollow of collapse under my feet
The window can’t be closed for fear
Since the air alarmed seepage at her identity
And I became a cracked window, who a great frame
Inject grandeur in my vessels every day
Three times per day
Greatness peaks in my muscles
and veins
bit by bit,
sleeps,
And evaporates fatigue amidst my cracks.
Walking on the holes of horizon, I sing
Like Jesus standing on the water,
donating salmon fish to paupers,
And free breath to the dead
And life ….
I should find out
And my hands shouldn’t be idle
Like empty hands of finial,
deceived by the sky
for centuries.
And looks for laughter,
in the tears of women in black.
I should review
Many of those moments which are left,
Near by the gates, gates
And the escape ways from contraction
My hands shouldn’t be idle
And my feet,
small enough
Should be ready to meet the Glass shoes
Steal the escape from me.
12.March 2012
The birth giving
There are birds that lay golden eggs,
and horses that are born with wings.
In the land of the Persians
there is a bird, when its death comes through,
burns up, and a new baby arises from its ashes.
And there are pearls that are born in the depths of the sea.
Each birth contains new documents
which uncovers million-year-old secrets,
and a judge who judges us
to a mother, a father and a land.
In droves
we get poured in to the universe like the navy of babie,
We get sprinkled like salt
in a big bowl
which is a huge orchestra,
and each of us
sitting in our special place
play the instrument,
we have been condemned to.
Only a few of us stand up from our seats,
stop playing,
and write a new song.
The others play their instruments to death
and pass it on to the next baby.
The day I met you,
I was not afraid,
although my instrument
was just a little red pencil,
and yours was a huge organ.
You became a servant to Christians in the land of the Vikings
And I debated with Muslims in the land of the Persians.
To this day that we both
stole our instruments
and fled from the bowl
and found each other in the center of
a remote harbor.
I wrote a poem.
You made a melody.
And our baby was born.
We put it in a basket
and we floated it on the sea
and followed it until it came to Pharaoh’s palace.
As soon as the queen took it from the water and laughed,
we got happy
and I volunteered to nurse the baby
in the slave girl’s clothes…
Giving birth is a strange thing, you see!
Sometimes there are birds that lay golden eggs,
and horses that are born with wings.
In the land of the Persians
there is a bird, when its death comes through,
burns up, and a new baby arises from its ashes.
June 27, 2016
To O.K 40th B.D
The day I met you
It was summer.
The sun had opened her yellow, thick, woolen skirt,
caughting white clouds with a fish hook,
and sewed them on her skirt.
Standing behind the window,
I saw the flowers bubbled out of the soil
blob blob
and raised their skirts up toward the sun.
So I realized that the day
was pregnant with a secret.
Me and the mirror became eye to eye
and the mirror’s eyes turned green.
I walked in to the garden
and smelled the bodies of all the planets one by one,
When a flying bird threw a shell on my head.
There was a pearl in the shell, a sentence written on it
“Today you shall meet someone.”
27 June 2016
To the 30th of July 2014
