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The Centrifugal Tendency

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A pent-up emotion was imprisoned in my heart

And I had a centrifugal tendency– 

to break the centripetal existence and escape the custody of My Being

But I was in the jail-yard of my individual attachments and relations in which I was enclosed

As if, it was a spurious mode of obtaining freedom


There was, in fact, no emancipation

And if it were, I could feel the dissipation and the deterioration of liberty–  

which was chained by the basic needs


I was so, till the sublime vision came–  

when I wrote poetry

Then, the gift of mere life sufficed my inspiration to feel free from any chain of heart

© Martinforoz- August 22, 2017    

Non-Political Liberty

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She detached from him a new self–

the one that can be safe from mutual accidents to which an individual is exposed

This new self was now a fearless, carefree existence–  

from an existentialist viewpoint, of course!


It was now a vivacious offspring of that detachment–     

equipped with the wings of independence,

carrying her fast and far through the hearts of a new life

She was ascending, leaping, and piercing into the deeps of infinite freedom


For her, the divorce between her and her parasitic life was nothing but mere Liberty.

© Martinforoz- August 22, 2017    

This Life

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Days and nights,

House and job,

A bunch of books,

A few routine actions done,

And emotions are all aside–    

This is the effect of modern life!

© Martinforoz- August 18, 2017    

Published Poems

Forouzani, M. (2017). Selected Poems “Three Sheets to the Wind” and “A Legendary Light”. Mystical Muse Magazine, 5 (19), 15-16

Forouzani, M.  (2017). Selected Poems “A Pendulum in Time”, “His Society” and “Beginning of an End”. Amulet Magazine, 14 (139 & 140), 13-15

Mystical

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MF!

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What was once obscene

became illustrious–   

in a new connection of thought and feeling

And poured into the playing language of emotion–   

known as poetry


It purged the guilt of being ME

And made me the poet–    

the one known as Martinforoz

© Martinforoz- August 18, 2017    

Modern Homo-Sapiens

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I took refuge in my room

and sleep under its very roof–

to avoid stars or shining moon


They are bright and visible out,

staring at me with certain doubt

and I feel afraid to move around


I make houses with wider roofs–

to accommodate people with their youths

I know they’re afraid of truths


We’re strangely bare and barren–

waiting to see our Charon1

looking like a desperate child

hiding behind our mom

we feel guiltily being shy


No, no, we don’t need sun or stars

We’re cloudy people of present time


 

1- The ferryman who conveyed the souls of the dead across Styx

© Martinforoz- June 10, 2017  

Theirs

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Tangerine, the sun above my head

was burning me like I was in a hell

Though I was enjoying the pure desert,

it did not belong to my deep spirit–   

no clouds in the sky,

no one known for many miles,

I was just alone with the burning sun–   

thinking, of course, about my past life,

my country,

my people,

the once raining weather,

the coldness I missed for some years,

the local bread,

the yogurt,

the stew,

the mornings,

the rush hours,

the nights with cloudy sky,

the different moonbeams,

the flying bumblebees,

and my identity which was lost in the far-fetched dreams!


I’m humble toward the nature’s work

But, it is different from what my eyes used to see–   

it looks different,

it smells different,

it feels different,

It’s not mine, it’s theirs

I am just an expat with no shares

© Martinforoz-  June 3, 2017