A Woman Defined

Art & Culture by Mahvash Mossaed

Excerpts from “My Painted Dreams: A Book of Poetry” by Mahvash Mossaed

May 22, 2016

The following are excerpts from the book, My Painted Dreams: A Book of Poetry, by Mahvash Mossaed, available on Amazon.com.

my-painted-dreams-mahvash-mossaed

Your Poem Followed Me

I was walking home

One very cold winter night

My hands in my pockets

My face frozen hiding behind my shawl and the colure of my coat

I was thinking of you Pablo Neruda

When I noticed one of your poems following me

I recognized it immediately for I new it well

I could read it aloud by heart

I could whistle it, I could smell it

I could chow on it and taste it

Under my teeth and in my mouth

 

It was a very dark and a very cold winter night

Your poem walked very closely behind me, so close I could feel its warm breath behind my neck

 

It followed me as far as the steps of my house

And waited until I turned the key and I walked in

 

When I looked trough the window

I sow your poem

Slipping away in the cold, black

Windy night like a mysteries shadow


The Wind

When I was so child like and innocent

Dancing to the music

That was not there

And flying my kite high

In a sky that never rained

When I had stuck raised petals to my nails

And a pair of twin red cherries

Hanged to my ears and

Wore a crown made of dead twigs

 

The cold wind was so unkind

To blow away my rose petals

And to brake my crown

And to tack away my kite

And to mess up my hair


Literarily Love

I found him one day in the pages of a book.

He was literary, and heavy with commas, full stops and question marks.

So I stood quietly in the shadow of his mind

For he could well be the god I had lost or the love I could not find.

 

Holding hands we went to shop in the crowded bazaar of life.

But somehow he let go of my hand.

He was lost,

And I was nowhere to be found

 

That’s how I ended up in this old gloomy library of time,

Reading every book I can find,

So I may find him hiding behind a meaningful sentence,

Heavy with full stops, commas, and question marks.


Beauty

Beauty is soft and sweet.

She whispers and takes your hand to show you everything that she is.

With her you can only be obedient.

You can only be like water—shapeless.

Like wind—with no form. Obedient to her nature.

 

She is so poetic, she lets you borrow her mask and her binoculars.

She exchanges her eyes with your voice.

You are astonished to find out that they match perfectly.

Then she hands you a mirror.  You scream just to crack God’s silence.

 

Beauty is soft and sweet.  You can only be obedient to her nature.


 Love

Where is love?  Where you left it.

Without someone it’s powerless, it’s meaningless,

It’s shapeless, it’s nameless, it’s empty, it’s lost.

With no existence.

And when it’s found by someone

It finds a name, a shape, a life,

And becomes powerful.

And makes up its mind to make you or break you.


 My Shadow

I am that woman

Who lost her shadow many moons ago?

 

To find my shadow I started on a long journey

And I left every thing

 

I looked for my shadow everywhere

I once sow it in the bottom of a clear lack staring at me

I bent down and tried to grab it quickly and hardly

But suddenly it vanished and it disappeared on me

 

So I continued on, on my journey

 

One time in a train, in a station

I sow a woman reading a book

There I was in that book in the middle of a story

And there was my shadow standing next to me

I ran towards the woman to grab my shadow

But she closed the book

And walked out of the train in a great hurry

 

So I continued on, on my long journey

 

Next I sow a gypsy woman

Dancing with my shadow to a wild music

On the middle of a crowded street

I rushed towards her

And wanted her to give me back my shadow

But she swiftly pushed me away, and ran away from me

 

Now I don’t run around no more

I just sit and try to sink in

Deeply and silently into my own soul

 

And may be one day many moons from now

When I am completely clear

 

I would find and embrace my shadow

Which has been there in the depths of me

All along

Patiently

Waiting

For me

 

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Posted in Mahvash Mossaed, Poetry |

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