I don't miss much from the country I grew up in. I'm only missing the space between the notable events and people.
A poem for Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe, a British-Iranian woman jailed in Iran. Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson's comments as well as UK-US impact on Iran in 1953 sealed her fate.
I used to think my creativity comes from suffering and drugs. Access to this magical land was given to me only when earned. Not anymore!
i felt a throbbing ache in my chest last fall after counting heartthrobs and ribs after eating my weight in chips i sigh at last and the doctor i call she asks if i've been outside lately before sunsets and rainstorms before ravens pick out lost worms she smiles and waves me out gently stomach... Continue Reading →
You are my prophecyYour echo resides in my chestBreathing now a prayerAbstinence my crest You are my prophecyAmid my sins you know me bestBathe me young layer by layerSing of tomorrow, put me to rest You are my prophecyA faith to call home at my bequestOf darkness only my slayerFrom skin to bone I am... Continue Reading →
Good and badThat's how evil thinksTalk of virtueWatch their hearts sink Fifty shades of self-denialNoses crossing over shadowsMessiahs turning in their gravesseeing their followers new clothes Speak not of love to deny itShow me no grace if ever flauntedTil death do us part, I spit on youI rather have my lonely home haunted
Arms long enough to wrap around my neckYet I cuff hugs from strangers who won't call my bluffHold many hands with my outstretched limbsGo home to pizza and TV Write of solitude and heartache galoreDream of soulmates who bake and tan on the shoreFingers interlocked, the remote lost in the couchBlink twice, only I am... Continue Reading →
Let's be honest: A 9-5 career is not for everyone. Checking your work emails first things in the morning, spending your lunch breaks in skype meetings and going for networking drinks in the evening takes its toll. The perks of my last job in digital movie and TV editorial were insane, and I cannot pretend... Continue Reading →
Knowing nothing butthat leaving is a return home Feeling nothing butthat healing is a dance that shows both light and darkness, up and downthink you're winning only to frown Understanding nothing butthat this road knots into me alone Seeing nothing butthat thoughts cannot move me if blown way out of scale, watching their shadowsI long... Continue Reading →
A few weeks ago I finally finished an idea that I've been working on for over a year. In it, we follow three generations of women across three different time lines to explore the trauma they inflict on each other, as well as their journey to motherhood. In a way, I was trying to work... Continue Reading →