Poetry
Poetry
All the Time
I like to stand outside in the winter night, a glass of gin in my hand, and watch the sky go by above me, half moon a white lemon with its companion star, the star two stars, then one if I concentrate while the clouds veil and unveil it all, and my focus shifts between
Keep Moving
Just keep moving, across the open field and into the woods. Don’t look back until you reach the sea. Run until your lungs are ready to burst and every nerve shoots red-hot fire through your lost body, the soft sand under your feet, the salty air welcoming you home to the only place you understand,
Iranian Revolution 2026
In the old bazaars of Shiraz—where once the merchants weighed saffron by the gram—the fires now illuminate not spice, but anger. A boy, barely sixteen, lights a rag in a glass bottle. He’s not a thug, he’s a student who hasn’t seen meat in months. He’s not burning the bank for fun—he’s burning it for
A Poem on the Wind
A poem on the wind lands wherever it’s taken, whether in your thoughts or mine, or on the dry red soil, glittering in the summer heat. I can see the last of the species scribbling away in a fevered dream as the sun burns the ground, furnace in the lungs, vivid colors flooding the mind,
Looking for Real
The world I have come to know is just an artificial display of holographic shapes gliding across my line of sight and disappearing into nothingness, tedious reflections in a dull mirror. But every so often, someone comes along who is dramatically different, a living, breathing person, warm, radiant, true, and connected to my inner experience.
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Novels and Collected Works
Get the Message
A poem is an equation written on the wind, riding on memory from one seer to the next, ancient as the spoken word. I can see the last of the species scribbling away in a feverish dream as the sun burns the ground, furnace in the lungs, every color flooding the mind, recalled in silence.
The Paladin
Oh my lady with waves of red,Thoughts of you race through my head. A heart of gold cloaked in snow, The fallen angel who lost your glow. Taken from you through devil’s rage, Soul entrapped in unyielding cage. Lured in by lover’s tender kiss, Betrayed by love in a secret tryst. Driven by pain and drunken mourn,Once again pricked by
Ten Reasons
I wake With death in my mouth. Before I wash it out, I start with Ten reasons why I cannot take my own life. One–Suicide is selfish, Especially for you. You help so many people. What would they do Without you? Two–Who else Can make Algebra fun? All your students need you. Three–Who would get
Always a Child
In the darkness of your broken nightlight, you whispered stories to yourself until you fell asleep. Ogres and wolves were all that haunted your dreams. Monsters were slain with swords and tricks by a hero, clever and brave, quick on his feet, everything you were supposed to be. You shot up like a beanstalk, left
Listen
The scrape of laughter fills the bar & preying, prying eyes behind shot glasses leer as she ventures in— dainty fingers quiver, holding a virgin pen. She signs then passes to a confident meaty hand & a variegated band of voices begins to create a list. She stands, goes first— steps over snickers to stage