Wednesday, March 30, 2011

IN OUR NUANCES AND DIFFERENCES


In our nuances and differences
we shape our shapes
in fragments of faraway
so close.
Loneliness
passes through
to stay
forever
in our colors or
pale moments.
We paint with shadows.
We're painted in shades
to say good day
before the day
and
happy painting
to rub hearts and minds
in our nuances
and differences!

YOU'RE TAKING AWAY


You're taking away my loneliness
I feel so lonely as
You're taking away my loneliness

HALL OF MIRRORS

wasn't he a hall of mirrors?
he was a hall of mirrors,by his own merits:
charlie chaplin in circus
modified 30 Mar 2011
Mirrormaze
Is all mirrors
in all
mirrors
falling in realm of mirrors.
It is windchill
Below vision
In the hall of mirrors.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

SEURAT/VAN GOGH/GOYA



seurat/van gogh/goya,blography by: moj
I am trying to find some bridges between Seura,Van Gogh and Goya,by comparing the facts of their life and their works.Seurat(d.29 March 1891)like Van Gogh(b.30 March 1853) left this world before reaching 40,but worked feverishly to make up for his short life.Van Gogh did so to fill his short life with masterpieces,and of course: Gauguin!
Goya (b.30 March 1746) arguably pioneered the modern time of painting by his dark genious,during his long life.He impressed impressionists like Van Gogh and especially his predecessor,and other pioneer of modern painting:Cezanne.This was through reality of revolution,war ,terror,chaos and despair in Goya's works,as paradigms of then,and modern time to come.
By these accounts,no matter in their short or long life,when they either were born or died these days,they have prophetically draw the turmoil,tumult and tsunami of this day and age.They were ahead of time in their minds and cretivities,as well as their vision and search.
Nowadays ,that is why ,if we open the papers or watch TV, we can see oeuvres of Seurat,Van Gogh,Goya,live from everywere in this dark world.

POSTCARD FROM POTOMAC CHERRY BLOSSOMS CRUISE I

.....

POST WITH NOTES TO DENOTE

ZESTY GAINZ
ZOMETIMES ZANY OR ZMILINGZ
ZOMETIMEZ
ZAD ZAD ZAD LIKE THE WORLDZ WE ARE BORN WIZ.
ZESTY ZANY
AZ IZ .
...AND THATZ THE WAY IT IZ .
O BABY!

POSTCARD FROM ST AGUSTINE,FLORIDA-5

*ST AUGUSTINE BLUES
Singing in the sand
Waves roar in promiscuity
Singing blues with St Augustine
*RED CRUISE
.....

POSTCARD FROM ST.AUGUSTINE AND DAYTONA BEACH-4

lighthouse,ponce de leon inlet,daytona beach,florida
THE DAY BROKE
IT IS THE DAY OF DAWN
IN THE DAY OF RENAISSANCE

POSTCARDS FROM ST.AUGUSTINE,FLORIDA-3


sun sojourn in poetry and prose
*RED COLLAGE
Once upon a time there was a red fish jumping into the ocean that Fereydoun Hoveyda caught,or got caught and carried away,as you may see in the red paper collage on the top of this page.Now red pineapple swimming in red fountain,not on the beaches but at dawn,and...
Red petunia turning pink
Red fluid silver of
Navajo
Red gypsy moon,that we pass thru all.
Red collage was nice but broke
We did not want to come back
Red mill wheel
going round and round like roller coaster or
Moulin Rouge
in Tehran or Paris
and or Toluse Lautrec!
In latitude 29  53  19 N
and longitude 81  18  28 W
to prevent ET IMPUTATUR


Times and again
we passed by
St Augustine   Cathedral Basilica
America's first red parrish
Founded September 8,1565
The oldest of the oldest town and in U.S.
And while answering
I found myself again
in old town's historic district
Red sun was going down and red roofs again redder and red towers became shadows with red dolphins,but not nasty,and hello in red.Not Lionel Richie's or Andy Williams'
.
No digital device!
As usual in my trips I did not take any electronic equippment with me,although Leila's Lazer Light really tempted me to buy one.The lady from Fez,Morocco with a sweet French Accent,as she called it FRENSH
played the seductive device,not on us but on the wall and backyard garden,to rainbow inside outside with the voice of Enrico Macias of our younger years,coming through a little Bose system,with the grandeur of a Bose system,and putting on a big show in Old Town
Still I said to myself:NO  EL ECTRONICS ON THE ROAD! and continued our way,with red coke discovered everywhere,not to mention this bariton voiced guy from some church ,who tried to convert me
with his two pray-ready companions,and gave me a biblet from Bible to study,without knowing that I already read the whole thing in farsi and english,or oh in french(frensh) as well,Old one and New,as a piece of literature,and I truely enjoyed.
...

POSTCARD FROM ST.AUGUSTINE,FLORIDA-2


bridge of lions,sounds like ponce de leon/puente de leon,inst.augustine,florida
When we woke up with the sound of boats,yachts,cruise and tall ships,Liz Taylor was gone with her red diamond.I place her in a red place in the sun,if not in the red hot tin roof...
Aviles alley of arts from red Cordova to red Sevilla of Lorca,Velasquez and my friend Rahim is right behind our place,in St.Augustine,to visit today.
Y Viva Espana
who offered St Augustine to the world
with Flagler Colledge and lightner museum red roofs and towers
Ex Nihilo/out of nothing

Ex Nihilo,maquette sculpture by Ferederick Hart

 Red draw of bridge constantly carrying halos over the ocean waves,to steal their beauties of last shadow out of red train in streets of St.Augustine...
We stopped by SECOND READ BOOKS,in historic district,by the old red furnace in Cordova Street.It was not for trade or sell but to see how it works and pays off.The lady in bookstore was not so happy,and we did not expect more.But she was in love with books ,and when you are in love with books,you are in love with books.Who cares for sale and pay off and taxes and rent?! I told her,we in Virginia Beach  know a guy ,another book lover,who keeps moving around with his bookshop and business,but never closes it.I also asked her about poetry section and she showed me a collection of Irish Poetry,that I had,she then looked for a collection of Langston Hughes , and I informed her I had that one too.We promissed to go back to visit her,but never made it.Probably next time if she 's still there,and we too.
In red geometry of a flying naked woman,we met Tuan Nguo,born 1963 in Vietnam.We saw his works not in Heisler Park of Laguna Beach,Ca;or Orlando Fl.but right here in St Augustine.I specially liked his Zephyr,who was flying passionately in the wind-Wind of Saba-and eloquantly in motion,sounding ZZZZZ...

Zephyr ,by Tuan
Like most South Asian artists ,Tuan takes spirtual motifs to his works,and the sound he listens to his body and opens up to his feelings.He is very receptive to spirituality,as he lost what he had with the past and reached to a new personal level of mind and mentality,to inspire him,and helping in delivering art.
With Samantha we made a tour in Galleria del Mar's sculpture Garden ,as well as inside the small gallery ,which is a part of three shops for Love's art dealership,with quite knowledgeable and amicable staffs
...


POSTCARDS FROM ST.AUGUSTINE,FLORIDA-1


Poetry & Prose
*RED SPRING IN ST.AUGUSTINE:
Red roofs
Red towers
Red tiles
Red train station
Red carriage  red pony  red horse
Red lion bridge,or bridge of lion
 to match with Ponce de Leon,
 the red conquistador!
Red coquina of shellrocks
for Castillo
to stand against red shells
Red basket of dawn
Red people sitting in
Red New Orleans Quarter
sipping on
Red Irish Ale
Red meehan's pub
Red Ponce de Leon,who
when landed in Florida
did not think this is
Red India
Red blackened fish
Red resturant
at the bayfront
Red horizon
Red whistles of boats and
pirates ships passing
Red draw bridge
Young students are coming and going in red bazaar of old town,like
Red Indians of Mrchee des Enfants Rouge
Red conquistadors of
Red Phillip II
Red cross standing by
tall at the bay
I went to post office and ask the lady in red for
Red stamps
to send my digi-postcards
she said GO TO GOOGLE!
Red drunkards of late night
and early morning
when the bridge of lions draws
It sounds like the lion bridge draws
Red sound of something passing by
And blue jay singing mad
in love,may be
singing red
Red sands
on the beach of
blue blue Atlantic Ocean
...

SPRING SEASON OF TOGETHERNESS


بهار فصل با همی ست
در حوصله ی سبز باغ
باران
شکوفه را برده بود
وقت شکوفه باران
و باغ
با باغ
تنها مانده بود .
بهار 
فصل با همی ست

NO FISH IS LONELY AT THE SEA

                                                      Painting By Zohreh Khaleghi
                                                 
Fins and scales
Stripes to stripes
No fish is lonely at the sea

LOOKING AT YOUR LONELY BIRD



با چشمانت بر می خیزم
و با تنت می خوابم 
بهار حادثه ای همگانی ست 
 
                                               Painting By Zohreh Khaleghi
I WAKE UP WITH YOUR EYES
AND SLEEP WITH YOUR BODY
SPRING IS A COMMON EXPERIENCE.
3.29.11

Monday, March 28, 2011

FINAL FOUR 2011


I am telling you
no final four
is final four
without Cindrella
or Sheherzad
and this year we have got both in
Butler,of who knows where in the world,and
VCU of our beloved Virginia
to send one
all
the
way
to
championship.
Missing George Mason.
GO V C U !

NORUZI:KWANZANUSUZUMIYOSHINOAKEBONOTAKESIMENSIS

I  LIKE TO WRITE EVERYTHING FOR YOU
BUT LIKE WHAT I WRITE FOR YOU
THERE IS NO END TO IT.
Weeping cherry blossoms are running on Potomac River
And I pass the wave
and bridges with them
But like writing everything for you
sometimes seen
and sometimes ignored
I just blossom
Cherry blossom
And peaking.
I wrote for you before I go
I write for you
in my return
to you.

LIZ LIVED WITH US IN MIDDLEBURG,VIRGINIA

ELIZABETH TAYLOR,Our lizzy(1932-2011))
we grew up with her in here
(in where!!)
LIZ
Lived with us
In the middle of Middleburg
for five horse farm years.
Fox were hidden in the Inn
Foxy and red
with their companions.
She was so sweet a neighbor
as a virgin virginian(of sort)
of short lived
like a barefoot cat
on a hot roof
or a giant of
whatever
and still glowing
and
gnawing!

MIGUEL HERNANDEZ IS DEAD IN FRANCO'S PRISON

فارسی/انگلیسی/اسپانیایی
MIGUEL HERNANDEZ IS DEAD IN FRANCO'S PRISON
Two Poems
modified 8.27.11


MIGUEL HERNANDEZ
b.30 OCT !910,ORIHUELA,SPAIN
d.28 MARC 1942 ,in Franco's prison
The theme of his poetry is more love and war and death.

دو شعر از میگل ارناندس
۱۹۱۰-۱۹۴۲
فارسی ی  فرامرز سلیمانی
نقل از مجله آدینه،تهران،شماره۲۱  ،صفحه ۴۶، ،نوروز
۱۳۶۷
میگل ارناندس شاعر اسپانیایی در ۲۲ سالگی نخستین شعرهایش را در روزنامه های زادگاهش اوریولا در آلیکنته اسپانیا به چاپ رساند.آنگاه به مادرید رفت و مورد استقبال شاعران گروه ۹۸ نرودا،الکسندره و برگمن...قرار گرفت و به آنان پیوست و با خوسه ماریا ده کوسبو در کار نقد همکاری کرد .با آغاز جانگ داخلی اسپانیا به وفاداران جمهوری پیوست و پس از جنگ به چنگ مخالفان افتاد  .او در زندان آنسان مورد شکنجه قرار گرفت که پیکر بیمارش تاب مجازات بیشتر را نیافت و به سال ۱۹۴۲ در آستانه ۳۲ سالگی در سلول زندان فرانکو در گذشت .
شعر ارناندس در دوره اول کارش تا آغاز جنگ داخل،شعر غنای و روستایی و در دوران دوم زندگی کوتاهش شعر جنگ و مرگ و مردم است.
* و جوانی:
پیران در دهکده ها
دل،بی صاحب
عشق چیزی ندارد.
چمنزار،قبر،زاغ
و جوانی؟
در تابوت.
تک درخت،پژمرده و تنها.
زنی همچون تخته چوبی
بیوه زن بر تختش.
بیزاری پایانی ندارد .
و جوانی؟
در تابوت.

*گورستان:
گورستان نزدیک آنجایی ست
که من و تو می خوابیم
میان گلابی های وحشی
آماریلیس های آبی و
کودکانی که غریو سر می دهند
اگر کالبدی بر راه سایه افکند.
از این جا گورستان
همه آبی،زرین و پاکیزه است.
چهار گام-و مرده.
چهار گام و زنده
پاکیزه آبی و زرین است
آن جا که پسرم دور می شود
F.S.
from ADINEH JOURNAL,No.21/Noruz 1367/March 1988,tehran
see more:
www.sariville.blogspot.com/miguelhernandez

Sunday, March 27, 2011

NORUZI: eMOTION


It is a theme
you always tribute
in motion
and deep breaths.
You limit you
to action
with an action
to con-tribute.
And when the wind blows
you are defined
drematica
by lover pollins
all around
you.
To catch an incidental catch
in the net
let it out
all emotion
all out.
Let it you
be
caught
in eMotion!
--ST.AUGUSTINE,FLORIDA
3.26.11

Monday, March 21, 2011

NORUZI: PICASSO IN POTOMAC

Picasso of Richmond
turned to Cherry Blossoms Cruise
on Potomac River
till
Cherry Blossoms
turn
Picasso

NORUZI: NE SIM OBLIX

LIKE FLOWERS
LOVE BLOSSOMS
NE SIM OBLIX

And like love flowers blossom to howl ne sim oblix

NORUZI: ARM OF CHERRY BLOSSOMS

Arm of cherry blossoms
Extended to spring snow
A piece of broken sky
.
Red in the curtain
Wrapped in the curtain
Shadows in the shade
.
Let it you
Be you
In you

NORUZI: NAKED GREEN


آسمان   سبز عریان
جامه ی پگاهی بر تن دارد
توی آبی ها

NAKED GREEN  THE SKY
WEARING A GOWN OF DAWN
IN BLUES

1 Frvardin 1390

NORUZY:WHY DO I WRITE?(farsi/english)

FARAMARZ SOLEIMANI:
Everyday I wake up and open the window for fresh air,I am in process of changing my mind.This happens through my senses and sensitivenes, when I pass through you,and the time and places.If someone claims his reading and his views haven't changed for years,it is their fault.The fault I never shared personally and in public,for medicine and other sciences,as well as for poetry,literature,arts and cultures.
In Noruz 1367/1987,my answer to Doniaye Sokhan's question,on why do I write، was what you are about to see.This is what I was and thought then,and here it is reprinted just as a document providing for my biography and visions.
see more:
www.faramarzsoleimani.blogspot.com/bio_and_whydoiwrite?
نوشتن یک عصیان است.عصیان علیه  نظم موجود واژه ها و ایجاد نظام تازه برای آنها تا بر مبنای واقعیت موجود،واقعیتی تازه آفریده شود
 و جهان و هستی دگرگون گردد. نوشتن آفرینش  ارزش های تازه ای است برای انسان. پیوندی و گره زدنی تا پیچیده گی ها گشوده شود یا گره هایی تازه و جوان پدید اید.نقد نوشته های دیگران یا ترجمه از زبانی دیگر به زبان ما دری نیز چنین عصیانی را به نظر می آورد.کسی که می نویسد سنت های کهن را در هم می ریزد و سنت های تازه را پدید می آورد و همراه با دگردیسی خود ، دگردیسی هستی و انسان را درنظر دارد..نویسنده به عنوان یک آفرینشگر کلامی هرگز همان نیست که دیروز بود یا که فردا خواهد بود.در این نگاه به کهنگی گذشته و میل به نو جویی و نو خواهی که در رویای آینده تبلور می یابد،او نقبی به درون دیگران می زند و در این گونه گونه گی مدام ،که به قصد انجام می گیرد،همه انسان ها را با خود همراه دارد.نوشتن همین تشنه گی برای تازه گی است که جز با عصیان صورت نمی گیرد.با تراشیدن پیکری و ویرانی آن تا پیکری تازه تر به عرصه ی وجود آید  و هر پیکر تازه در درون خود دستمایه ای دارد که به هیآت جنینی در می اید و زاده می شود و به رشد و بلوغ می رسد و می میرد تا جا برای دستمایه های تازه و جان  های  تازه باشد و این زنجیره ی طبیعی و در عین حال جادویی در خیال و زبان نویسنده،که شاعر والا ترین گونه ی اوست،گردشی زنده،مدام و تپنده و جان بخش دارد
 دنیای  سخن ،شماره ۱۷،فروردین ۱۳۶۷ ،  صفحه ۱۱-۱۲، تهران   

BENGHAZI's SWEET SPRINGTIME WITH SHAKESPEARE



IN THE SPRINGTIME
Benghazi blooms as it is
THE ONLY PRETTY TIME
Charred bodies
red clouds
and black mushrooms
stealth with
submarines,tanks
and low flying jets
in no flying zones
WHEN BIRDS DO SING
Tyrant wants blood
pitiless and merciless
HEY DING A DING,DING
Benghazi with Tikah,Barce,
Baida,Derna,Tobruk,Zuwarah in love
in tandem with Tunisia and Egypt
SWEET LOVERS
And soon again with Ajdabiya,
Brega,Ras Lanuf,Misurata,Al Khums
Tripoli and Zawiyah
LOVE THE SPRING
Benghazi
Singing SHAKESPEARE SONNETS
in sweet springtime.

3.21.11/ 1 farvardin 1390
First Day of Spring

Sunday, March 20, 2011

TWITTER IN THE DARK WITHIN 140 GOOD CHARACTERS

BEFORE THE DARK
GOES MERCILESS AND PITILESS
I TWEET IN THE DARK
THE DAWN FACING UP
DEEP IN NEW SEASON
WITH CHERRY BLOSSOMS

THIS ONE I WROTE IT FOR YOU

این را برای تو نوشتم
در منتهای بهار
که مشق راه
تازه نوروزی می شد.
سالی در منتهای بهار آمد
گریبان گر گرفت
 از گریبان گر گرفته
گروگان گرفته بودش
در بی بدیل با د
گریبان گر گرفته گشود 
.
در منتهای بهار
این را برای تو نوشتم
 در روزی نوروزی 
که پل بی باور می گریست 
می گریست؟
شاید هنوز می نگریست.
وقتی که تازه  شدی به رویا   
این را برای تو نوشتم .
- نوروز ۱۳۹۰  

Saturday, March 19, 2011

THINKING OF de kOONING and HIS WOMEN

یاد د کونینگ می افتم
همشهری غربت ما
روز رفتن او .
زن های د کونینگ
در منتهای خشونت
عریان اند 
به عریانی دگرگون حجاب و
دروغ... 


willem de Kooning,the Dutch-American
New York abstract expressionit, with  one of his famous naked women
B.24 Apr 1904,Rotterdam,Holland 
-d.19 March 1997,NEW YORK
He moved to U.S. in mid 1926,and his WOMEN in two series are halmarks of his works
.'
I,m thinking of de Kooning
my fellow citizen
in exile.
de Kooning women are naked
in the extreme of violence
naked as veil and
lies
*

*
.  And you are right.He started his abstract works in middle age  and was inspired not only by Jackson Pollack,but De Stijl and Flemish Expressionists. He mixed realities with Arshile Gorky's surrealism,the Armenian-American painter who he met in 1933,and the one who in fact pioneered Abstract Expressionism..
Once his women were on exhibit in our NGA and I wrote a note in Farsi,in a Persian Publication,now defunct:
.....called Iran Khabar

IN THE COLORFUL MOMENT OF BUBBLE

NOSRATOLAH MASSOUDI
b.12 FARVARDIN 1332/1 APRIL 1953
OEUVRE:
Iam looking for myself
.
I say it with no metaphor or trope
This bird is dead under her wing
And who,except you
Was able to pull the blue of sky
Off her open eyes.
If you don't eavesdrop
The vague echo of the rain
Still tingling in her feathers.
When you closed your eyes
When you close your eyes
Her wings continues on some lines
in your mind
By shadow and light  of spring leaves
To disturb you
O void of the beginning to the end!
This bird has hidden her sound
Under her wing
And how she sang the day
By the spring
In the colorful moment of bubble
To remain a poet
And say
"There only remains the sound"
The passer-by was right that
His hut is not hot
More silent than my bird's pulse
More astonished  than the mouth
Without a word
At the time of narrating the vagrancy
But still knows
Silence is an interpretation of the sound
To disturb the eternal sleep
At a night
If sleeping on the veranda of spring.
-Tr;F.Soleimani

Friday, March 18, 2011

A WALL DANCING BY HALO


Topsy turvy wall
Falling to the wind
In the hands of halo
-Noruz 1390

see more:
http://www.farahaiku.blogspot.com/

THE CORONATION OF NATURE WITH NAKED NYMPH

Someone struggling in the pond
to bring the beauty of landscape
by naked eyes.
Someone bringing the beauty of naked body
to the landscape.
And still life
is the living nymph
to draw the beuaty
in the pond

SHADOW BECOMES THE SHADE

سایه سایبان می شود
سایه می زند سایبان
پهلو که می گیرد
ناگاه انسان جزیره می شود 
انسان نا گاه  
به سایه  ی  ساحر

SHADOW BECOMES THE SHADE
IS SHADING THE SHADE
WHEN FLANKING.
SUDDENLY MAN BECOMES ISLAND
MAN OF SUDDENLY
IN MAGIC SHADE.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

CREPITATIONS IN BLUE


In the salty crystals
the sea sings
The songs of refletion
In rebellion
And salts
Cracking
In pieces
By the sea.

VARIATION SALTS OF THE SEA



In the end
Salt of crystals,and
The sea sings
At the break
Of songs
So crystals
Cry
In reflection

LOST IN LOST SPRINGS

I wanna go to Lost Springs,Wyoming
I wanna be lost springs
In wyoming
I wanna be # 1
"I waana be contender"
"I wanna be somebody"
I wanna switch channels on my 3D Big Screen
I wanna jump from Sitcom to dish to cables
I wanna walk around and wistle all allone
I wanna sing along
I wanna be We Are The children
I wanna be We Are The World
I wanna blow my horn when Moon comes out
I wanna race with my shadow
I wanna beat the wind
I wanna be my mayor
I wanna be my servant
I wanna be my slave
I wanna go on revolt
I wanna be a rebel
I wanna pay taxes to myself
I wanna be my own IRS
I wanna change the price of gas in my gas station
I wanna be my own statement
I wanna be my credit cards
I wanna be my juxtaposition
I wanna be my paradigm
I wanna be my newspaper
I wanna be my editor in chief or at large...Whatever!
I wanna have my Garage Sale
I wanna be my limousine
I wanna be my U Haul
I wanna drag nobody to nowhere
I waana be lost in Lost Springs
I wanna be population 1
I wanna be elevation 4996
I wanna be lost springs
In Wyoming.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

*PERSIAN PAINTING-45


Zohreh Khaleghi
Cutting on edges
In a frame on flames
Lost in reversed pyramids of the desert
3.16.11*

*PERSIAN PAINTING-44

WAVAWAVE(WAVE A WAVE)

Orange mask
Looking away from the road
Journey was not yet born
3.15.11*

Monday, March 14, 2011

*PERSIAN PAINTING-43

سبز بر بلندا
طولی کشیده تا به با د
وقت بیداری
Green on the height
Taking time to the wind
Time of awakening
-Noruz 1390

Friday, March 11, 2011

FS#1050 : IRANIAN WOMEN MEMOIRISTS

STORY OF COMING AND BECOMING
...Ideas,insights ,observations and visions dare to create vibrant innovations,but still memory of the past can warm up the dishes of present and educate or entertain.After all history is history and not all the times which is  remaining in the shadows of the past.This is particularly true if voiced by the creative minds.
Reverberating memories in memoirs has been a good art on trails and treks of the lives of Iranian men and women during the past decades.Of these probably women found their social and private lives in a new voice,and draw it in a more advanturous,and exciting pattern,to bring out and expose them in worthy volumes of books,and this of course would not deny the share of men,in politics or culture,who have a longer history of writing their memoirs,especially during Ghajars and Pahlavis.

VARIATION OF MOMENT

Poetry
is forbidden land.
Forbidden are
Men
       and
Women
Holding
Hand in hand
To walk free
In promenade
of
Poetry.
Holding?
Hand?
In hand?
Someone
Cries
In forbidden land

Thursday, March 10, 2011

EIDIDANI

Eida returns home
homee and auspicious.
Eida grows rainbow
on spread and eggs
with gold fish and wild violets.
Novel is born
long
when we borne the spring
on our shoulders of meadow.
Eididani,she fully becomes
at the time of
Eididani

noruz of a. h. tabnak?

GHAZALEH ALIZADEH:WHY DO I WRITE?



Ghazaleh Alizadeh,Iranian Writer,
b.Mashad 27 Bahman 1325-D.18 Ordibehesht 1375,Javaherdeh,Ramsar,Mazandaran
image by Maryam Zandi

By writing I want to know why  I write.At the beginning of any novel,I think I discovered the secret.It won't happen.I go to next novel.From the moment I know why I write,I won't write anymore.This story may make the issue clear.
Nun Chi yuno was not so good in theological thoughts.One night in moonshine was taking water from the fountain by a buckett attached to bamboo rope.Bamboo broke ,bucket busted ,and all waters poured out.
Chi yuno felt free,and wrote a poem joubbiliantly:
I tried the best to hold on bucket
As bamboo was breaking,
Then bucket busted
There was no water in bucket
There was no moon in water.

from Dniaye Sokhan Monthly
No 17,P 13,Farvardin 1367/1988

WRITTEN WITH NIAGARA

I
Written on running river
with waterfalls
Wave weaving wave
II
Marshall road
Words are
master maps
III
NIAGARA ON THE LAKE
Wripened grapes
In our hands
Empty Road of wine and roses

On The Road,Canada
from MAPPING SOLEILAND

METAMORPHOSIS OF MOMENT

I
Carousel backward
Dragging down the horizon
Metamorphosis of moment.
II
Carousel forward
Holding tight on the horizon
Night is a dark bird

NEVESHTA POEMS(farsi/english)

از شعر های نوشتا
*عید ا 
.....
عید ا به راز باز گشت 
به راه بی باز گشت 
عید ا ی راز  
EIDA:
Eida returned to mystery
To the road of no return
Eida of  mystery

see more:
http://www.neveshta.blogfa.com/

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

COBWEBS IN THE MOUTH

*roberta hill whiteman
ROBERTA HILL WHITEMAN
b.1951
Oneida Nation,Wisconsin
Poet and scholar,Professor of English and American Indian Studies,University of Wisconsin-Madison
Oeuvres:
Star Quilt,1984
Philadelphia Flowers,1996
Both of these poetry collections are published by Holy Cow Press
She once wrote:
GROPING WITH US ARE CRIES YET UNHEARD.\
WE ARE BORN WITH COBWEBS IN OUR MOUTH
Here is a poem by Dr Roberta Hill Whiteman,with the title:
PULLING DOWN THE CLOUDS
published in spring 2011 issue of National Museum of the American Indian:
Let us survive
Inside a sacred space.
Look at the earth.She feels us.She feeds us.
Look at the west.
Look to the north.
Look to the south.
Look at the sky.
He feeds us.He heals us
Inside a sacred space.
Let us survive.

Monday, March 7, 2011

BEND OF THE ROAD(farsi)

برگان نیامده اند و نه شکوفه ها
خم راه خالی
خالی

ف.س.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

REVERIE DE RIVE GAUCHE


marc chagall ,the russian-french cubist-surrealist painter,paris through the window,1913,
Philadelphia museum of arts exhibition,Philadelphia,Pa.

BROAD CANVAS
IMAGINARY
MEMORIES
REVEERIE DE RIVE GAUCHE
=MARK CHAGALL

5.PICASSO ON FARSH BIJARI RUG


پیکاسو را آوردم
روی فرش بیجاری گستردم 
یک حجم خالی بود
  در یک حجم تمام
و وسواس حجم دیگر
در تمام خالی  
I brought Picasso
to Bijar rug
It was a void
 on a total volume
and obcession of another volume
in total void

Saturday, March 5, 2011

BUT...

NEVESHTA:from POEMS(english)
Lock of my hair
so soft
you lose your way
in the bush.
Come with a compass
Pass the cliffs
and lay down.
But...
In lock of your hair
before I lose
my way in the bush
under ivory pillar
in the rainy roads
of dreams.
Navigate with me.
Navigate blue
when you sail
with me.
Cockcoombs of wave
in silent sea
lock of our hairs
But....

NEVESHTA:from POEMS(farsi)

*برای خانم بزرگ /صدیقه پزشکدخت
I
هاشور می شود بیشه را
آسمان صورتی
صورتی از ماه
II

خط خطی به سیاهی
با نقطه چینی صورتی
در شطرنجی بیشه   موجی آفتابی
III
و صاف و صافی و  ساده و بی غل و غش با ما تا بیشه ی بامداد  می رفت...

4.PICASSO/CHAGALL/GAUGUIN

SPRING FORWARD
blography by MOJ
.
We are surrounded by pure arts all over the cities in our area,to preview spring and pull forward.
With Picasso we witness wordless passion for wordless expression and expanding realm of love and dreams.
The status quo was brutal for Picasso, and brutally boring,so he disrupted status quo as an innovtor.
Picasso denied the line.He unlined the line by making it exposed and naked from all dimensions.He broke the borders,as his wordless medium and world to become further borderlss.He was open and exposed in his love,and also love of humanities.We will be with Picasso in Virginia Museum of Fine Arts ,in Richmond,Virginia,and send you postcards.
With Chagall ,that Russe-Parisien of Vitebsk ,we see Paris,the previous capital of art,through the window.His towers and archesare adorned by women and men,as well as love.If picasso is the frame and skeleton of modernim,Chagall with his cubist paintings and imagination of memories and memorials,is called "the living fossil of modernism." We will be with Chgall in Philadelphia Museum of Art .
Gauguin is taking us to exotic travels through colors of sensuality and living in passion with nature.
This time Gaugin is landing in National Gallery of Art,in Washington,D.C.With the season of Cheers and Cherry Blossoms,it will be a chance for moments of meditation for all,in this brutal world of psychotic despots and dictators.