Persians Poems | Examples

The Children of Gaza

Why the society doesn’t speak about

The persecuted children of Hindus in Pakistan
The persecuted children of Hindus in Bangladesh
The persecuted children of Christians in Islamic state
The persecuted children of Yazidis in Iraq
The persecuted children of Persians in Iran
The persecuted children of Druze in Syria

The world doesn’t revolve around Gaza
Laced with fake news and misinformation
Jihadis play the victim-card with children on the pedestal of falsification

So, wake up world
And don’t get twirled
In the propaganda of false whirlwind

Contested Crossroads

Contested Crossroads

By Mark D. Stucky
On a battleground bloodied across millennia,
on a compact land bridge spanning continents and gods…

        Canaanites, Philistines, and Hebrews, oh my!
        Israelites, Judeans, and Samaritans, oh my!
        Babylonians, Persians, and Romans, oh my!
        Jews, Muslims, and Crusaders, oh my!
        Turks, Brits, and Zionists, oh my!
        Palestinians, Israelis, and others, oh my!

So many clashing claims to such a small strip of land.
So much religious, political, and ethnic strife.
So much cursing, contempt, and conflict.
So much destruction, death, and despair.
So many words of unfulfilled prayers.
So little hope for permanent peace?


(See also my poems “Hate Vacuuming” and “Bringing Heaven to Earth.”)

(Photo by Shahar Weinstein on Pexels.com.)

Athena Spoiled Persians Fun

Athenians were losing to the Persians led by Xerxes one.
but Athena came along, and spoiled that militant’s fun.
she helped the Greeks defeat them, and they ran away.
goddess of wisdom, justice, and war simply does not play.

she enhanced the wisdom, skill and courage of every soldier.
her practical knowledge and fairness is unselfish and pure.
born from Zeus’s head, with her owl power animal at her side.
enthuses Athenians who built Parthenon with her statue inside.

Diogenes and Alexander

Diogenes, philosopher in Greece,
was said to be a dawdler. "Devil finds
some seedy work for idle hands, don´t fleece
our youth!" He saw the walls in people´s minds

who all declined his odd and frugal life.
He lived on bread and water, beans and fish,
without belongings, even without wife.
King Alexander promised a free wish:

"Ask anything of me, so make your choice!"
Got speedy answer: "Stand out of my light."
The famous king confessed with lowered voice:
"So eastwards now, the Persians I will fight.

But if I were no king I´d seek your peace,
Diogenes, philosopher in Greece."





May 13, 2022
Orphan Sonnet Poetry Contest, sponsored by Emile Pinet

Orphan Sonnet with a rhyme scheme of  Abab - cdcd - efef - aA, 
10 syllables per line in three quatrains, and a final couplet 
with the last line repeating the opening line.

Prized Pickles

persians pickled
firm and crunchy,
thin and pint size -
spice them with little red flakes
and briny water.
pack them side by side
in a sparkling jar.

twist, pop that top,
fork-stab those
puckery suckers.

serve:
alongside a sandwich -
perhaps a plump pastrami
or
with dumplings drizzled
with thick and  savory gravy
or 
combine spears with choice cheese
on an appetizer plate,
pleasing to the palate.

experience the hiss, the crunch,
the sluice of slipperiness —
the bumpy pleasantly-green dill.

2/19/2020

Thermopylae

thermopylae still haunts me to this life. The sights I saw, the blood I spilled. When my men stood tall I stood taller. For every Persian my brothers killed, I killed two. When the sun set are sights were set. Tonight we dine in hades, with all the Persians we take with us.

Parthenon At Midnight

The harvest specter
of Artemis levitates
in midnight sky
beyond a temple's frail bones.

Her aura imbues the marrow
as haunted zephyrs breathe imperial runes
culled from quarries
in the scintillating saffron 
emblazoning Apollo's halcyon.

Atop graveyards of heroes
pillars weep dry pebbles to Aegean eminence,
from Alexander's subjugated Persians
to Agamemnon’s trickery
on the plains of Troy.

When marble shadows lengthen
and drift in her shifting light
the moon goddess
stills all whispers
as she mourns the spectacle of bravura
retreating to dust.

6/20/18

Persian Haiku 2

Persian Haiku 2

What a gorgeous view!
You and the flower garden,
I'm the butterfly.


Your eyes, the ocean;
The ocean colors your eyes.
Your hair is the wave.

Moon on the ocean, 
Your face is the reflection.
Always be alone.

I live with my heart,
All flowers are beautiful,
I love daffodils.

What a discussion,
I had with all my flowers.
Their breath smells nice.


3/20/2018 Haloo

Note: Iranians/Persians Celebrate today, the first day of spring as their new year. We call this day Norooz or Nowruz, it translates as New Day. From my family to yours,  Norooz Mobarak ....Happy New Year.

Lapis Legacy

In teal sunset
Gerberas whisper cyan secrets
jade eyes already misty
with turquoise tears
translucent as bee wings
In daisy diaspora they have germinated
a lapis legacy throughout my garden
to peacocks and oceans 
enthralling with indigo images
of azure empires 
converting with periwinkle prayers
Sapphires burn 
in shades of midnight
as amulets to aqua aspirations
As sky darkens and cobalt descends
blue buds dream in cerulean
of cornflower conquests
just as Persians and Egyptians
once sought dominion
from Aegean to Atlantic
Now they will slip
into celestial sleep
scaling steel spruce
until awakening
to a powder morning


6/23/17

Spring In Isfahan

S pring in her steps she wanders in wonder

R ecoils in amazement retraces the year

I gnites the haven the Persians call ‘bunder’

N o regrets but resilience beyond graffiti of fear

G ive me hope she exclaims I will not go under


I n the semi desert one forgotten Iris blooms

S urpassing the ruins and shackles of tombs


C risp early morning she takes shelter in beauty

O h Allah protect me while my husband is gone

M y children are hungry for them it’s my duty

I nstil all the love past seasons have foregone

N ever give up the new summer comes closer

G ive praise to beginnings a flower’s composer


S pring might well bring all the Peace we deserve

O n this day with the spring and lonely florescence

O bituaries settled and truce's armistice observed

N o winter shall break her so true to her essence

30th March 2017

Blood In the Sand

Blood in the Sand 
There is a war in the Middle East people against people in 
the name of Islam, chop heads of one another like it should 
be a sporting prowess and then holler Allah. 
I’m sick and tired of these people who have mindsets that 
are 300 years behind us how can we have a sensible talk with 
such persons who in the name of their god kill anyone, mostly 
for reasons, one has to have a 300 years old mind to 
understand how they can accept their blood thirst done in 
the name of an abstract god. And then there is betrayal
they are forever betraying each other to the enemy.
 But it wasn’t always thus and we 
must accept we have made it worse. Yet there are Jordanians, 
Palestinians, Syrians, Persians and Arab -Israeli (the Jews and 
Christians not) too who are not like the cruel of sword swinging 
Muslims we read about, they are the people who can bring 
the unrestrained, wild -eyed backward people to book because 
I’m exhausted of defending the indefensible.

Obsessed

Staring into an empty sea-blue Picasso.
Winking,blinking and greasing my wet nose,
Trying to discerpher the rune in my upper 
torso.
To see, if I shall for once, think strait.

Then upon my thoughts, I sat;
Thoughts of her; and of her.
Thoughts, that once sufficed the brute, I was,
And of odysseys across her angelic form.

Of Rome, Greece and savage Persians,
Of wars waged and love made.
Of souls of immortals slain,
And of odysseys across her angelic form.

So, I laid upon my sweaty quill.
Yet in my long ashored ado.
Scribling; scribling upon a wet cotton 
napkin;
Thoughts of her; and of her alone.

My Hummingbird

Not even the canary can stand its beauty,
Though, eagle; lord over the skies - 
Not one deems low the awe of the hummingbird,
My hummingbird.

The loving sounds hums,
Heavenly host rejoice at its humming,
The awe of its love in me,
I cannot fathom.
The awe of its ire of love,
My soul, burns, crave for it,
Yet, not a single ink to pen on the marshy field!

Awe of love is known by none?
Essence of love isn't realised by true men?

I shall wrestle like the spartacus of old,
Persians shall fear my name,
More than the three a hundred.
When I sing with the hummingbird every morning
Then shall my field grow green grass,
My hummingbird.

The colour coastal to eyes,
Yet, offers more like the patriarch!
Arwen shall return,
When hummed, the sound of one is,
My hummingbird.

Odin's Army

I fell in battle, sword in hand, 
Invading someone else’s land.
Then I saw her, and she reached down, 
To escort me from the battleground.
I’d let her take me anywhere, 
With her winged helmet and braided hair.

She had me stand ‘neath Odin’s throne, 
Where each warrior must stand alone.
One-eyed Odin judged me to be 
Worthy to serve in his last army….
Daily killed and resurrected--
(Not quite the afterlife expected!)

Samurais taught me to sword-fight.	 
I learned spear and shield from a Hoplite.	
Vikings taught me the battle axe, 
And the Persians taught me sneak attacks.
We die each day and then come back, 
Always practicing for Ragnorak.

She brings me mead, my Valkyrie, 
And sometimes at night she favors me.
Since she’s nearby, it’s just as well--
This isn’t Heaven, but not quite Hell.
We’ll fight and sing to the war drums, 
Waiting the day that Ragnorak comes.


(Chorus)
Our days are spent in miseries, 
But at night we have the Valkyries.
Riposte and lunge, thrust and parry; 
That’s all we do in Odin’s army.

Rumi's Advice To Emerson

I am the product of Rumi's advice to Emerson and Thoreau,

telling them to consolidate the spirit of compassion and truth in America

wisdom of Persians, layers of Judeo-Christian foundation, civilizing the most barbaric at 

     the heart of the world

America is finally hearing of Rumi's love through Emerson

and is struggling, on many different levels, to fill the cup of love.

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