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Poems > Collection > Introspection

Author: hamedkomeili
Submited: 6/7/2008

you and I are the Devils slaves yet!

I remember
I was a skillful painter
Like Van Gogh like Dali
I was just busy with
Drawing the beauty of oases
I remember
I draw a garden
There was a pond in the middle
But The flowers were sorrowful
Because of thirst
I thought to draw a human being
To water the flowers
I took a brush
Do you have permission? My friend said
No, I said
It is said not to draw a hand, he said
Maybe this hand takes a brush
To draw on the wall
To write down with injustice
Ok I said
not to draw a leg, he said
Maybe this leg runs like a fawn
And cause a victim to escape
Ok I said
not to draw eyes and lips, he said
Maybe these eyes see the dark
And the lips say the story of this contempt
Ok I said
I remember
I drew a man
Who couldn?t see this beautiful scene
And water the flowers
Because he didn?t have any hands
he was not able to move
With no legs
He couldn?t sing
Without lips
He himself knew
Who will be captured in my painting
Forever
And he had
A sincere heart in his breast
I remember
My garden dried
And the pond become lagoon
And flowers withered
I remember
To appreciate my beautiful art
And my dauntless answers
I being responsible to issue the permission
At once I said:
Order to draw hand
This hand should take a brush
Draw on the wall
Write down with freedom
Down with repeating flower and oasis
Order to draw legs
These legs have to run in the garden
And squash
Every beautiful flower
Order to draw lips
These lips have to tell us
The place of pigeons
Order to draw eyes
These eyes have to see the dark
And feel the presence of demon
Do you remember yet?
The years pass
I and you are retired
In meanness, my friend
Do you remember yet?
How much cruel we were?
How many odes we killed together?
How many mouth we shut together?
I know well
Paradise isn?t oppressors place
I know well
Paradise is place of pigeons
Who only laugh
But hell
Is only for you and me
And hell is here
You and I are the devil's slaves yet!

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