Hooman Azizi

3 poetries
 

Beyond of the puke

Translator : Maryam Hoole

I have to find an incisive scissors …
To this country that has been my placenta …

I have to snip my navel cord …
It drag me follow itself …
A bad sort …
A bad place …

I have to say
Flogging the sea …
I have to piggyback this blind
This Alborz mountain
And bring it
Insofar as Arash’s sling shot was gone …
Insofar as petroleum fire was alight …

I have to say …
A bad sort saying …
My words have involved in the scissors
I know how to trigger …
How to doing drop too …!
Because of my baby … he shouldn’t go to fever …
Because of the money …. It shouldn’t come approach …
Mr papermoney ?
who cut my head
with his incisive edges…

but my navel cord …
oh …bad sort …
I abuse this words …
Portent …
Oh …. Portent …

I syringe the petroleum in my bloodvessels …
This Is bad addiction …!
When it be finished
The bathroom will be cold forever …
I stink …
I fug …
My breast hasn’t milk…
My many mothers … oh … a bad sort …

Please think
And tell me where is going this road …
The black fume can not see even few meters thither …

And my petroleum puke
is
this words
that
I haven’t said …

The spring

Translator : Maryam Hoole

This toothless spring
Who Came to my home …
Was hungry …… more than mirror…

In the borrow under ground
The ghost was masturbating
But was not enjoying …

The mirror had devoured me
All of my form
Until they have losed me in the album …

the ghost photograph himself
with a tonsure head
costing his ailitary service cart off …
costing off … in the mirror ….
Because of next spring carol poem
Like the beasts …

Now ….
I don’t know
Which side of the mirror…….I love you … !
 

In the poetry

In the poetry

you are my face

I’m yours

Borning is the day

Day is borning

All poetries is yours

You are mine

Poetry is out side of the time

Out side of us

We are in the poetry

in your poetry

Poetry is my Epitaph