The Psalm of a Desert Bird..

About a Persian kid, (Sammy)

.

The young sky

Of the broken empire.

Below the burden of a broken song.

...a quail with broken wings.

 

Her books are made of fear,

Her bitter sunrises smell of sadness.

Her silence is louder than seas.

 

 

* * * * * *

 

 

I know my dearest...

They've forgotten everything.

They've hidden love inside their long, dark robes.

They'll flagellate your ingenuity.

They'll burn your throat before you sing.

They'll burn your hands before you write.

They'll burn your legs before you dance

 

My sad dove,

Do not dream..

Do not dream about the sky..

And the forest I breathed into you.

It's far away..

A thousand miles through deserts.

And a thousand miles by the Ocean.

 

My dreamy child.

Pay no heed to me.

I'm drunk on fear.

The melancholy moonwine.

 

O, Beautiful bird.

We have twisted our ribs to fortify your nest.

We cried into seed of the planet to quench your thirst.

We compiled our passion under your celestial wings.

Ye sweet ballad of retribution!

Yet another song of revolution.

 

 

You remember the stories.

You remember the half-drunk poet who sang about the moon-like peri.

He rained in the east.

He reddened the white flowers of Shiraz.

 

You remember the maiden who craved to dance

in the carnival of love.

She was dried by the angel of faith.

Her skin is the ash of the winds of Persepolis.

 

 

* * * * * *

 

 

Ah..

We're drained of our love and sanity.

We're deceived by the green men.

People of the book...

Their green pillars with green words,

Fell across the state.

The glory of sunrises were stolen from our blue throats

As our shadows boiled in the tears of dawn.

Ha.. 'Tis your drowned nation.

'Tis your mortal jurisdiction.

Beneath the cloud of pandemonium.

Here we abandoned our legs and our hands.

Here we retired our hearts and our heads.

We left our fathers, we left our mothers.

Our yesterdays eclipsed under the shards

of their promised heavens.

Our eyes estranged the romance of our ears.

 

We lost our land.

We lost our land...

In the December of the snake eggs.

 

 

* * * * * *

 

 

Now you have begun your self-assault.

Like water

Like bags full of animal bones.

You tend to talk about the aroma.

Of leopard corpses.

 

You still stink of love.

From Mediterranean,

all the way to my isle of green sand.

 

 

Become the salt of the earth, my child.

Devour the endless legion they cast unto you.

Your dominion over the river is unquestionable.

Your reign over the melting snow is unassailable.

Behold, battle-reddened eyes!

The semblance of our world saturated in your love.

The sapidity of the mountains soaked in your elegance.

Breathe this lament, breathe this dream.

Heal our land,

Remain in the sky.

Remain the water.

Remain in the forest.

Come home to me.

 

*****

Author's Note

The image came up in a random search, I do not own this. I just thought it'd suit the work.

Reviews

[Richard Man]

This is resonant of Omar Khayam but of a different age. It is either bureaucracy or the law or religion that oppresses all our creativity in all of us, our souls are being wrapped in cling film and boxed and then our details formulated and filed, our actions are noted and reported and reactions occur against us and our individuality is crucified.
This poem is a true cry and a true declaration of love of the deepest sort.

[Thorne Heathenspring]

Thank you. I'm too flattered that you mentioned Omar Khayyam in the review. As long as a human being's freedom and the right of expression is taken away somewhere, our species is not truly free.

[Richard Man]

Your poem sang the truth.

[InsanityWriter]

So beautiful and powerful!!! I loved this, it's amazing. (; Awesome job! :D

[Poetic Beauty]

This is and interesting tale woven in this piece. Sometimes people like to beat down those who sing a song of a different language or color in crayons that aren't invented yet. There are many stunning lines throughout this whole piece and the imagery is motion pictured in the mind.

[Phantom Heart]

"You remember the stories.
You remember the half-drunk poet who sang about the moon-like Peri.
He rained in the east.
He reddened the white flowers of Shiraz."
I love this stanza. I think I read the poem a few times and finally realized that I love most of the lines and I can't rewrite them all to tell you.
Thanks for sharing. Well done. Love the feel, the emotion the visuals.

[mikl paul]

this was a good read.

[The Nameless]

What a wonderful poem. It's really unique and I love the picture that it puts in my mind.
Brilliant work =D

[Inda]

Forget the pic, the work is great! Such longing and such tragic understanding of all the limits that exist as well as the greatness. Love it!

[marie]

this is a true work of art... such emotion in this, even now after reading i feel a weight upon my chest from the enormity of this, it leaves a sense of fear and wonder in its words, you have played this piece so eloquently you have made me envious, thank you for sharing this, it is a wonderful masterpiece:)

[Silhouette]

Wow, I could feel the emotion leak from this write and into me as I read. I love the flow of your words and the words alone contain so much…awesome write thank you so much for penning =)

[Akhand Pratap Singh]

Psalm!! After seeing the name the first thought came to me were Psalms of king David sung for God, crying, enjoying pleading dancing all emotions for one single being. As I read onto poem it became to me much like a pagan song a call from mother nature for her beloved, trying to guide the lost onto the path, this poem I can relate to many things. Love oh its so beautiful! definitely a master piece. :)