هیاهوی بسیار برای هیچ

Name: ado

Sunday, September 24, 2006

rush

This horrible its me
Not wearing blue
My shadow
Erroneously falls in the wall
Head to his head
His mouth oozes me
To the bitter floor .

How sweet is death
To my pale cell
Such as sunlight in fall
That twists itself among the bed sheet
Once I died suddenly
You cannot see me
Even in the fib pressure of our humanic testa
You cannot see me
Even when our pupils watch each other carefully
You cannot see me
I stick under the same rib that makes us separate
Any door
Could close your rush to me
And still
You cannot see me

Friday, May 27, 2005

Among the documents and folders there was a Corpse /
No, no it wasn’t a corpse, it was the halfway Statue of the breath/
Window Shade cut the morning on the body/
Last night until the morning was involved by the alarm and dumps/
Is it morning? Is it another birth?
There was a wake in streets/
A work/a love/a life/
Was mixed in a bowl/
Eyes are looked the sky /a Grisly gaff
Upstairs, on the body of Skyway /
After the seconds beneath the sky /
A long person was hanged by pajamas
The seconds before nobody knows/
Now Hearse was in the roads
Passengers say “it was beautiful death, but very simple”

Saturday, April 09, 2005

Can you give me a birth?
That is end not be the death.
In my land
There is no hand
A big hole in our soul
Creation, creation
Creative, creative
With no thing Attractive,
In my land
There is no hand

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

To every thing bring the end
Then put the point at our bend
We rotate, we rotate
With out any cooperate
What is it?
Is our fate?
We bring a point to ourselves
Like a chain to slaves
We rotate, we rotate
With out any cooperate

Sunday, April 03, 2005

When Jack went to school he didn’t know that Jack by self cannot be his identity, his teacher told him you are not coming from cabbage, but he was coming who knows! One day that stars were blinking, Oh if you cannot see please don’t say it can’t be... A great owl found him and be came his god father so he must be Jack Owl, his teacher told him you are a mischievous liar because owls are blind in the morning …
Jack thinks about his past and he thinks that if a mouse found him now he could have an identity for himself.