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Best Poems Written by Mehdi Hajizadeh

Below are the all-time best Mehdi Hajizadeh poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Mehdi Hajizadeh Poem

Defender of the Wastes

What makes a speech out of words,
I have just washed the tombs of lords.
Oh, what’s my knot?
What’s my knot?

You can judge the theme not.
Words, trickle of the destructed thoughts
Shaped in a dim light.
No matter what you say, I am right.

Denouement, is that what you’re looking for
Or the numb world of an alienated whore?!
Are you still seizing the time?
Or I am just trying to impose the rhyme?
Is music the tool for beauty?
Or you want to distort the confusion for purity?
Have you read the book “Thus Spoke Zarathustra”?
Oh…that’s really a great one!
But it’s just the business of the dumb!

Oh Masters of the waste land
Are you still counting the seasons?

Circulation, is that the word
You are searching to play?

Or a good reason for pastorals
To make a pile of hay?

Listen to the land and say:
“When the sunshines and things are done
I find myself alone and my mistress is gone!”
It might be the nauseous feeling of an outcast,
Or the graveyard style in mourning the time past,

I have no aim, are we determined?
Or pessimistically trying to blow it through the wind?

From deform and artificial essence
I am not that much interested hence,
Why being entrapped in metamorphosis?!
Whoever dares to have zeal for catharsis?!

Oh my wing, my wing
My straw-like string 
I am writing to you and sing
The notes of nonsense fling

In the world of the posts
When all the ways are done utmost
All the forms, all those repetitious gross,
Everything seems notorious

Still do I obey the stupid legends of the olds
In defending and dressing the stupid codes…
Who is the postal outsider?
The one within the theme when it comes
Or the mere watcher outside?!

Theme is crumpled.
Oh…someone has just blown his nose in it.

Oh purity: Shall I compare thee to a green stuff
Or the unreadable inky words?

Conscious or unconscious
No matter where the stream goes
The concept is coming!
Oh wing, why don’t you say ever a word?

Oh…I have forgotten,
You have been disillusioned!

I want to ask:
Can’t you come when you are disillusioned?
Wing: “Yes, why not…!”

It seems I am rejecting myself
Who am I defending so!?

Rhyme is fading
May be it has just experienced the climax,
So it comes through the tempo again
Don’t worry…

They say the word never dies
Wing, you are an invisible character
How the hell you take part
Without even one word from your mouth?

Oh I have forgotten you are
Rejecting some rules.
That should be postsomethingsim.
To what extent shall I sing
These false lines?

Details | Mehdi Hajizadeh Poem

The Trojan Horse

Once is gust a knell,
Shuddered a colt
Shattered his mane athwart
His wafting soul a shaft of fear
Like a sprout!

Staggering in frisson
A gladiator, reined him in prison
His body, an etched pigeon
Under the lashing ribbon

Long time went on and on
As trained and brisk as Trojan
Until in one grim morn
He was left alone, forlorn.

Then, a shadow of hippogriff
Scratched his hoof so stiff,
Captured him by defeat.

Hey… my coy horse, an orphan,
Still flutter in this repellent
Lagoon, while Poseidon
Is himself drowned.

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No One

The masses are yelling
Yell of no one is heard
Societies of infection
Drags of bones
Not having depression,
Nor using drugs,
And the no one shouts:
“……..”
Individual and art
Poor masks of poors
The stereotype one
: “We are right”
Characters are broke
Masks are still held
More diseases spread out
The generation survives
Era, feeling of decades,
And sense of themes reborn and die
Human fads, still proves himself
Mumbles loudly: “…….”
Oh…adaptable creature!

Details | Mehdi Hajizadeh Poem

The Dark Rape

Calm, calm, poor beauty
Ignorant of your last play
Innocently lie in the cage!

Cry, cry, the deep slavery
Hasten to be vanished
Every new taste!
No more man desires the tainted pies!
Remember, you have just forsaken for good?!

Laugh ye… the whipping silence
Creeps, slaps, scratches the face

Shout you, the temptress
The rape of the dark
Smashing on your enchanting eyes

Oh, the most violent you craved
Squeezes, goads your gasping soul
But a glowing skewer!

Now

The burnished lava, licking out 
The heart
 And the spirit of death
Flying in the sky.

Details | Mehdi Hajizadeh Poem

To the Indian Fella

Hey you Indian fella in solitude
Hey you ruler of papers in silence
The two pens or one you get use of
The reggae music of mute you listen to
Your wandering soul in seasons
The themes, the loneliness, the dreams
The dead words you inspire
The cold land, the drops, the black and white you weave,
The ancient dark caves of thoughts you pierce,
The butterflies, the flowers, the blossoms
The cold winter day, 
The poor ones purified under the rain,
Oh…Wing I have words with you
Of those ones in your mind
And of the ones in no one’s mind
Philosophy, value, chaos
Ingratitude, infatuation, complex
Loneliness, marginalized, inhumanity
Art, books, no where land
Utopia, love, ego
Superego, politics, swamp
Repetition, debate, proving
Flying, infinity, being
Revenge, psychopath, innocence
Salvation, sympathy, solitude
And the numb papers and
The disabled dancing pens.

Details | Mehdi Hajizadeh Poem

The Big Little Birdie

All I hear through the songs
In that rhythmic tempo out of your lungs
Your woeful mourning and sorrow
Your elegiac speech of morrow
The same old lines in despair
When you sing the notes and share
The scented lyrics of lilacs
Your frolic is sometimes lissome sometimes lax
And those pop songs in mania
The isolated rhythm in echolalia
Your big heart pumping hard
Being entrapped hitting itself all around
Your gasping soul sweats
Still the same melody comes out of thy chest
Don’t shout; don’t even squeeze your scratched heart
It’s still the same song
Still people enjoy thy twittering
When you are hung!
Come and be calm on my arm
And I will play your song and will be your balm
Dazzle at my eyes with thy shiny eyes
Still I enjoy this line when it says:
“Drink to me, only with thine eyes.”

Details | Mehdi Hajizadeh Poem

The Devil's Love

The frosty is the heart
Is all the blood,
As if there is any!
The chilling flame of an evil,
Erupts and soaks.

The love is lost,
The lunge of an eroded part
Passes and squawks

A new angel, sent the God
Erotic and hot is she,
The coquetry of a light at height

So the immortal rust is now,
Full of lust, roars and yells,
 The childish of a lover!
Grabs and tries, but nothing finds,
So he is a kind!

The reddish talons of a vulture
Now, chase and trace like a child
Glean and sing
The lovers’ honor of trust!

Flies and sighs,
Soars and falls
Like the birds of love,
But nothing he grasps,
Through the virtue of light

Then, 
The wild and crazy he becomes
Sweats and swells,
Swings and sweeps,
As he really is,
The swan!

And the most common of its type
Is the three times he bowls
Howls and shouts:
“Is really the only merciful a Torturer?”

Details | Mehdi Hajizadeh Poem

I Cringe When the Smoke Comes

I cringe when the smoke comes
Of the crippled boy leaning on the ground
Creeping toward the sounds
Of the birds of love, celebrating
A cremation party with bounce.


I cringe when the smoke comes
 To the hardy knight’s pout
Under the hyena’s slurping sounds,
To the immolated pigeon on the ground.

I cringe when the smoke comes
When a holy page burns
Bunches of lilacs and roses.

And I cringe and cringe
Whenever the smoke comes!

Details | Mehdi Hajizadeh Poem

The Scarecrow

Stiff and strong, crucified,
Standing through the solid farm
Being exhibited as the protrusion in ground.

Hey you nightly spots…..
Who are you afraid of, an old ogre….?!
Oh … a flaking scab under an earthy hat,
Or a pair of gory eyes pinched beneath the flaring wrath…?!

How about you parents
What are you pointing out to your children?
Laughing at a featherbrained puppet,
Or may be teaching your children
The rusted statue of faun?!

You are celebrating grasshoppers!
Oh it should be….
Hissing inside, pricking his old body,
Irking cheerfully the invincible soldier!

But birds I am still wondering 
About your twittering!

Details | Mehdi Hajizadeh Poem

The Leech

Mark but this leech and mark in this
It sucked me once, don’t know what happened then!
To be detached with salt or to be quenched with blood
Of the blood once sucked of mine
And of yours I have no idea
And in this leech our bloods might mingled be
Swelled skin after that sting
Let not to that self murdered added be
Now could this leech sinful be
How shall I know
That mixture is ours?!