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Best Poems Written by Khashayar Salehi

Below are the all-time best Khashayar Salehi poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Plighting Our Troth Or Trothing Our Plight

We plight our troth for little but froth 
To be whelmed in plight, ashes and sackcloth
The phrase is plain but blind we remain 
It is hard to enjoy a stone broth!

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Once You Find What You Are Meant To Be, Trying To Get There Will Make You Happy

Slalom, serpentine or straight 
Your course need only approach your goal 
Although important is the rate
To a noble bourne, it is not the soul

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The New Pestilence

There at once looms a lethal disease
Across the globe begins to breeze
Taking its toll on the old and young
Flings the whole world into unease

Danger impending, little chance to duck
Everyone ruffled, nervous, and in shock
Afraid of others, chary to mingle 
Damning this pouring pestilent ill luck

Panicked public storm the stores
Grabbing disinfectants in scores
Masks are scarce, so is alcohol
Unmasked la-di-das behave like boors

Some authorities use all their might
To appease people’s pains and plight
Some tell big lies to their people
And are too dark to light the night

On the up-and-up, working nonstop 
Medical staff always on the hop
Risking their lives, wasting their limbs
To save thousands in rescue op

It was the plague in the days of yore
That mercilessly killed of rich and poor 
Now Covid 19 seems to reign supreme
In scaring man maybe even more 

Yet this too shall pass thanks to the mettle
Of all the scientists who will not settle
Until they ascertain the proper cure
And take off man’s side, this biting nettle

But worries won’t cease. Only, they change
They’re so diverse and broad in range
Global, national, personal, or what?
Momentous, petty, or even strange!

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The Letter and Fetor of Infelicity

When all looks safe, chafe is at the door
Breaching your peace like never before
Its gruesomeness infesting your mind
Its fulsomeness molesting you more

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Put the World To Rest Or You Are a Pest

On our actions should the only curb
Be aiming at not to others disturb 
We may merit the name of man
If not, we stink like the garbage can

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Disillusionment

When we think we know, sure we are to fall
And trip and flip and drop the ball
Our knowledge nature writes off as a myth
And ado over what’s at best small.

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Marriage, a Path To Prosperity Or a Door To Adversity

Some see serenity in parity
Some seem open to disparity
An institution as old as the hills
Marriage is marked with unclarity 

Some people unable to think straight 
Champ at the bit, they just can’t wait
To make the mistake that seals their fate
Only to wake up when it’s too late 

Worse-befallen are the ones who see
Right through their mate’s real he or she
And nevertheless, opt to go ahead 
Further on folly upping the ante

“When we got married, things went worse”,
Say most people after they divorce 
Success so scarce some call marriage 
A miscarriage and a failed discourse 

The ups and downs of married life
The rifts and shifts being so rife
Monologue the vogue, madness galore
Better no longer remain man and wife

Better unmarried and live on single
Than with the wrong type marry and mingle
If you are happy with unwedded life
Forget marriage. Resist the tingle!

Should you get married and then divorce 
Beware not to sink yourself in remorse 
It won’t be easy, but do cheer up
For a better life, you must change the course

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Staircase Wit

Aggrieved and incensed a lot
I thundered some dull abuse
Que sera sera said a passing sot
Act Betimes or else, there’s no use!

Some possess the wit to cut
At anyone who stands in their way
Sometimes a Parthian shot
At times words to disarray

But many of us cannot find
The words to appease our souls
Someone’s words blow us blind
With rage and we drop our goals

Only after the moment does pass
And moaning Alas, we just toss and turn
Do we think of the way and pass
That make us less with ire burn

Yet does it all matter that much
To riposte an insult and cut back?
Off a firm tree, cut a tiny notch
Is that a massive deadly attack?

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An Elegy For a Legend, In Memory of the Inspiration That Was Mehdi Bagheri, My Great Teacher

He is dead. My beloved teacher is gone.
Like the burning sun, with knowledge he shone
A man of letters, he would voice his thoughts 
Costing him dear ever and anon

Gone is he who was out of place
A man that laughed in the faith’s face
The letter and fetor of tradition 
Could not fetter his rational race

Poverty, problems, pains and plight
never bereaved him of his mental might.
Proud, profound, and thoughtful as he was
Stoop he would not to what was not right 
 
Language pregnant, words exquisite 
At bunkum he cut with his acid wit
To paper his pen whenever he set
To our ignorance, we all would admit
 
He always swam against the tide.
Many he spurned in his pride.
His abrasiveness and sullen facade
From so many, his kind heart would hide

What most people considered gospel
Neither would he buy, nor would he sell
Brains his ever burgeoning belonging
Gave him direction, one thing you could tell 

Mediocrity he could never take
Averageness ran counter to his make
In Rome when he was, Roman he was not 
An authentic man, he was never fake

Stabbed by the ruthless knife
of death, was his fruitful life.
Too young he died and with his death 
Sadness rained down. Sorrow ran rife
 
In the face of death, nothing can be done 
All that lives and is, one day will be gone 
Yet his legacy, a blazing torch 
Weathers the woes and will never wan.

In person though I’ll meet him nevermore
His teachings remain with me evermore
A self-made soul and a man of mark
He was what he was, a wisdom ore.

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Singing the Mortal Coil

Dancing the words to lance the boil
With grace and style but no toil
Watering the soul’s thirsty soil
Poetry sings the mortal coil