انجامِ بیسرانجامی

انجامِ بیسرانجامی

 

چشمهایت میکاوند ژرفای روحم را

لبانت میلرزند

​امّا نمیگویی که دوستم داری

 

نَفسَت گرمای وجودت را با هر بازدم

روی گونهام میریزد

​امّا نمیگویی که دوستم داری

 

لبخندت میشکفد چون شکوفه در بهار

با دیدن من

​امّا نمیگویی که دوستم داری

 

دستانت را حلقه به گردنم

سرت بر سینه ام میگذاری

​امّا نمیگویی که دوستم داری

 

من و تو با فاصلهیی مبهم

این ترانه را میخوانیم

چه بازی زیبایی، چه جدایی پر امیدی

چه تفریح نفس گیری، چه انجام بیسرانجامی

 

لرزان صدایم برایت شعر میخواند

پر از واژگان عاشقانه

​امّا نمیگویم که دوستت دارم

 

گونههایم از بازدمت میسوزد «آخ»

نَفَسَم میگیرد​

​امّا نمیگویم که دوستت دارم

 

وجودم از دیدن لبخندت سرریز میشود از

شورِ پنهانی

​امّا نمیگویم که دوستت دارم

 

آغوشم ازآن توست، تو میدانی

همیشه میزبانت

​امّا نمیگویم که دوستت دارم

 

من و تو با فاصلهیی مبهم

این ترانه را میخوانیم

چه داستان دلانگیزی، چه رسیدنی ناکامل

چه بیماری همه گیری، چه انجام بیسرانجامی

 

پیمان ابدالی

تیر ۱۳۹۲

Cloves

Twenty eight years ago I was making out with my girlfriend in the car (my first car, a dark blue Datsun B210), in the parking-lot of a dance club in Folsom avenue  Sacramento, CA.  There in the heat of passion one thing that made the moment more memorable was the smell of a particular cigarette that filled the atmosphere and what remained a mystery for me for almost a life time (nearly thirty years).  Last night in crowded pub in Prague I smelled the same scent that rejuvenated me in an instance.  And this time, not preoccupied with matters that required full attention, I searched for the source and asked the question stuck in my mind for over a quarter of a century "what is the source of this smell?"  A horsed voiced, oriental looking, Prague film school student with impeccable sense of humor replied with a question "where you in California at any time in your life?"  "Yes, I studied there" bewildered I replied to Dario, the black haired, tall being that had brushed his hair over into his face and his black rimmed prescription glasses.  "Every one that I know who lived in California knows the smell of Clove cigarette" he concluded with a smile handing me a pack of cigarettes that smelled like carefree college days.

Clove cigarettes!!

Thank you Dario, thank you Kaveh (for taking me to the pub).  Later that evening someone asked me if there is any undiscovered matters in my life that prevents me from being content and prepared to die right there and then.  "There are many unsolved issues, but with the smell of cloves in my nostrils I am ready to go...." I said in my usual natural low voice that dissolved in the ambient noise. 

Calling the neighbor

The doors are closed, windows shut; the neighbor is out

Room by room, the path is lit with the moments in the moment, the present.
the neighbor is away.

A waterfall of words flow through me from the depth of the limitless ceiling,
There is no ceiling, the neighbor is in the ether.

And all of the memories and pictures of you are fading off the walls. Memories of hopeful wishing of a future unknown of wishes unfulfilled. The neighbor is here.

Walls begin to crumble, windows unhinged, doors open. No description holds, there is everything but then none. I am calling the neighbor.

And then I only find me, not a man, not a teacher, not a husband, not a father, not a lover, not betrayed, not betraying. Simply the pure me. No memories of the past, no planning the future, no pain but the feeling of one-ness. I am the neighbor.

Magnetic Resonance Madness

The scan is ok,
the nerves are ok,
the veins are ok,
And the pain hides behind my little friends

The face is ok,
the head is ok,
the ears are ok,
And the pain hides behind my little friends

Magnetic Resonance Madness has never seen
the power of my friends unseen,
Propranolol, Carbamazepin , and Naproxen
Propranolol, Carbamazepin , and Naproxen

I am a bit sedated, so I’m not easily agitated
out of focused but resolute, a lot to be debated
the roads are now shining paths, maybe even paved with gold
I see the light but I’ve been told my mind is intoxicated

The teeth are ok,
the hair is ok,
the skin is ok,
And the pain hides behind my little friends

The lips are ok,
the tongue is ok,
the nose is ok,
And the pain hides behind my little friends

Magnetic Resonance Madness has never seen
the power of my friends unseen,
Propranolol, Carbamazepin , and Naproxen
Propranolol, Carbamazepin , and Naproxen

Magnetic Resonance Madness has never seen
the power of my friends unseen,
Propranolol, Carbamazepin , and Naproxen
Propranolol, Carbamazepin , and Naproxen

Payman Abdali
Feb 20th 2013

Space Monkey

Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends
We're so glad you could attend
how long have you been waiting here?
an hour? two? a day or an eternity?

You gotta see the show
It's rock and roll

we’ve pull a President out from the space
he’s gonna shock the monkey out of you
he’s gonna amuse you to death

Miraculous you call it babe
You ain't seen nothing yet
We are sending a lunatic to space

Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of Ahmadinejad.
Its never-ending mission: to explore strange new worlds,
and yet stranger new world order,
to seek out new life and new religion,
a religion with an invisible Messiah
that only Mahmoud can see
to boldly go where no man has gone before
and no one ever dares to go.
to play secret revealing tapes
and still have a lot of stuff in the closet.

Is this the real life or is this Mahmoud’s fantasy?
our Spaced-out President
with documents to prove his reality

Bismillah, yes; we shall just let him go
Bismillah, yes; we shall just let him go

Shall I say? Shall I say? Shall I?

East of the Tigris is the land of confusion
there’s too many men
too many people
making too many problems
but only one monkey who can monkey with a monkey
or with the whole universe

Too much at stake
Ground beneath me shake
And the news is breaking

Shock the President, the President of shocks
he’s the space monkey, the President of shocks
he’s the man of the hour, the day, the history
the President of shocks



oh, wait; don’t leave me now
the show has yet to start
it’s a rock and roll

I see you in June.



Payman Abdali

Complete

To be content
is rudimental
placid at most

neither gay nor bitter
fundamentally incomplete
and
incompleteness demands solitude
a solitary floating state of being content

and it daunts you abruptly
when you least expect it

Hopelessness is a disease
a brushfire of accidental events
or is it?

and the cure is also never planned
it eventuates

the disease and its cure are both stupefying accidents
they just happen
as simple as that
and if you cry out "why?"
they simply tell you:
"Things just happen"

Surprises good or bad
were never of interest to me
"control" I always demanded
yet I consistently prayed for an uncontrollable,
unforeseen eventuality
an act of exhilarating surprise a happening, a cure:

to be Complete

Content and Hopeless
I found a cure
that creates butterflies in the gut
that makes me feel whole

--- free

---- pleasantly surprised

---- happy


---Complete---

Selling out your lover

Her eyes flare up like a distant bonfire,

her skin flushes with warm blood, when she retires

after each time she breaks a poor lover's heart

The radiance that fills her atmosphere,

the pride to have broken hearts far and near

decorate her soul like trophies of the war of hearts

But behind the veil of this killer iron maiden

underneath that glorious fire and well hidden

she has a weak side for me,

she still loves me

and that is what burns her up.

Trading love is easier than selling out your lover

The world never rewards a betrayer

Selling Joseph for Nasseriah's Gold

was never a profitable trade

The world never rewards a betrayer

The fire now burns up her eyes,

the blood that flushed her face, surprised!?

now heat up her brain, she's going insane

The pride that gave her power, gave her speed

betrays her now, in the time of need

and thoughts of the haunted broken hearts bring her pain

Going insane?

Gone insane!

But behind the cloak of this killer iron maiden

underneath that glorious fire and well hidden

It is my love that burns her soul

cause she still loves me

"the sold out lover"

Trading love is easier than selling out your lover

The world never rewards a betrayer

Selling Joseph for Nasseriah's Gold

was never a profitable trade

The world never rewards a betrayer

Payman Abdali

November 30th, 2012