Out of Time

So thrilled about my poem “Out of time” that is now alive on “Poetry Life & Times” and would like to say thank you to the Editor “Robin Ouzman Hislop” for publishing this poem. Please take a time and read the poem in the link below.

Out of Time. A Poem by Soodabeh Saeidnia

Years have passed and that slim cider plant

is now a strong tree

The mesmerizing highway’s been constructed

across the mysterious sea

Wars started and presumed

to be ended soon

My senses have deadened, whereas my body

promoted to defend
I wonder why in this time

I’m not feeling good, I’m not fine
Days have come and nights have gone

without a sign of evolution in our genes

Climate smirks at our greenhouse dreams

Through once in a while, monsoons of disease

cyclones of death

Men are digging the earth at a furious pace

but I’ve always known that there are planets, in which

rains are diamond, snows emerald
Along this ephemeral wasting of time

I’m not feeling good, I’m not fine
The spider web’s connected all the people

Some are trapped like butterflies,

Some are tearing off the net, though cannot fly away

I heard their wings have hurt

and needed a century of rest

Galaxies have been expanding through the Dark Energy

I know that the chance of dropping in a Black Hole

is less than becoming human for some men

We are now safe living in the Milky Way!
But I’m running out of time

I’m not good, I’m not fine

Rain

There is rain pouring
Rain is pouring with rage
Rain is pouring inside your skull
Rain is pouring on Michael Kors in the woman’s fist

The rain and the Michael Kors are both pouring
on my bare bones
Rain is shamelessly pouring
Rain can send you home
with the woman and her Michael Kors
Rain is furiously watching my fears
I bury myself under your arms
But rain tickles my nose

Rain turns red
Rain is bloody
dripping on your hands and turning off your Marlboro
wiping your face, kissing your lips
It’s just an ordinary rain in NYC, you say
flirting with the rain’s eyes
But at the same time, rain turns purple
wrinkles your forehead

Rain was already my friend
but now, approaches my neck and presses tightly
I’m feeling suffocated
Angry rain and its pressure are going up
throwing up
Madness is pouring
Madness is pouring with rain

Rain and Madness turn black
Rain and Madness are putting on your pants
getting out of your nostrils
Black rain who gets out of your nose
Madness who gets out of the woman’s dress
Black rain and Madness fill the subway
Black rain and Madness kill a boy by mistake
A boy who looks like my prince

Rain turns green
Rain reads the commercials on the wall and laughs
The rain and the woman are looking at your nose
There is blood coming out
Blood is pouring, but at the same time
turns white and translucent
I breathe out safely

It is raining
Rain is dripping on my shoes
My shoes are Payless
I respectfully invite the rain into my shoes’ party
My toes embrace the rain warmly
and blush

You walk with the woman shoulder to shoulder
Rain is still caressing my cheeks
The rain and I are dripping

Soodabeh Saeidnia

Published in the recent anthology “The careless embrace of the boneshaker” by Great Weather for Media”. I always liked to write a poem about down pouring in NYC !

Poems- by Soodabeh Saeidnia

SICK LIT MAGAZINE

A Sun in a Puddle

The day before yesterday

A glorious bright yellow sun

tiptoed on the sleepy horizon

and fell into a turbid puddle

The puddle wondered

if it’s going to dawn again

Yesterday

A puddle swallowed

a dismissing sun

and started to blaze

to laser-cut the eyes

who was wondering if

it’s going to dawn again

Today

How dreary a sunburnt sun

slipped into a greedy puddle

and wept until we all

cried and wondered

if it’s going to dawn again

Tomorrow

People say a wounded sun

is going to be executed

inside a puddle

and we all know that

it’s not going to dawn again

The day after tomorrow

May a sunny puddle

bleed to die or distill to dry

May a reborn sun

go up the ladder of the sky

and never set in a nefarious puddle

Wall

I am a wall and I am not

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