982 - Dust n' Bones

it took me the pain of 16 cracked and broken teeth
and a jaw that doesn't function the way it used to
to maintain a balance between my emotions and wisdom
to ask myself on the 5th day after election fraud:
"Who the hell am I really paying this price for?"
When there was no oral support.

That very day which was the only day
that I found myself having something in common with a girl in traditional cover Chador:
Running the same direction for our lives
When bullets were chasing just a few meters behind.

***

It was even before the election
people who were blinded by colour of green instead of blood
people so deaf and so blind
that their pouring emotions and their paralyzed brain,
had taken away the will to ponder.
They couldn't take any other takes and alternative views
nor the power to control the words that were rolling out their mouth.
Those with their own absolute and inherent Nothingness
threw stones
and labeled traitor,
and pointed fingers
not seeing at all
that they are pointing their 3 other fingers at their own selves!

So Called "Patriots" of yesterday
Who are running away from the fatherland
way much faster that The traitor me!

***

It doesn't even need to mention after the election
that it was all headless chickens who were running blind
didn't know where to get their rage and hatred
and who to put it on
Who got killed, raped and all those tense scenes
that words can't describe.

***

Does it even matter?
When I don't find anything
that I could spare it a little feelings of belonging today,
And Can't seem to find any roots in yesterday
and a place in tomorrow.

I never felt like I belonged
And I never will.

درد 16 دندان ترك خورده و شكسته، لازم بود
و فكي كه ديگر مثل سابق روي هم نمي آيد
تا روز پنجم بعد از انتخابات بالانسي برقرار كنم
بين احساسات و عقلم تا از خودم بپرسم:
"براي چه كسي دارم اين بها را مي پردازم؟"
وقتي هيچ ساپورت لفظي وجود ندارد.

همان روزي كه در واقع تنها روزي بود كه
خودم را با يك دختر چادري در يك چيز مشترك ديدم:
دويدن در يك جهت براي زنده ماندن
وقتي گلوله ها چند متر عقب تر دنبالمان مي كردند.

***

حتي قبل از انتخابات بود
آدم هايي كه جاي خون،
رنگ سبز جلوي چشمشان و عكس هايشان را گرفته بود
آدم هايي چنان كر و چنان كور
كه احساسات فوران شده و مغز فلج شده شان،
قدرت تعمق را از ايشان گرفته بود.
نه طاقت شنيدن حرف ديگري داشتند
نه اختيار حرف هايي كه برزبانشان مي آمد
همان ها كه با "هيچي" ذاتي درونشان
سنگ زدند
برچسب زدند خائن،
انگشتانشان را نشانه گرفتند
و هيچ نمي ديدند
سه انگشت ديگرشان را به سمت خودشان گرفته اند!

"وطن پرست" هاي ديروز
كه امروز براي فرار از سرزمينشان
از من خائن سريع تر مي دوند!

***

بعد از انتخاباتش ديگر گفتن ندارد
مرغ هاي سركنده اي كه بي هدف مي دويدند
و نمي دانستند جنون و خشم فزاينده شان را به كجا ببرند
و سر چه كسي خالي كنند
كشته شدند، هتك حرمت شدند، و تمام آن صحنه هاي پر استرسي كه...
كلمات توان توصيفش را ندارند.

***

چه اهميتي دارد؟
وقتي امروز
كوچكترين چيزي كه
بتوانم به آن ذره اي احساس تعلق داشته باشم را پيدا نمي كنم،
نمي بينم ريشه اي در ديروز
و جايي در فردا.

مني كه هيچ وقت احساس تعلق نداشته ام
و هيچ گاه نخواهم داشت.د