Selected Poems of Reza Ghadimi
2020 - A Valentine Letter to Me! - Being a Veteran 2017 - Birds of a Color - Chillicothe Rain Drops - Choya's Lesson! - Colors of Time! - Happy New Year 2017 - Labyrinth of uncertainty - Seekers of the sun - Spring Wind - The Moon and You - The Teasing Spring - Where do You Hang Your Cloths to Dry? - Wild Horses in My Yard
2020 - A Valentine Letter to Me! - Being a Veteran 2017 - Birds of a Color - Chillicothe Rain Drops - Choya's Lesson! - Colors of Time! - Happy New Year 2017 - Labyrinth of uncertainty - Seekers of the sun - Spring Wind - The Moon and You - The Teasing Spring - Where do You Hang Your Cloths to Dry? - Wild Horses in My Yard
Seekers of the sun Down from the countries of the north Away from the winds of the cold They come on planes, boats and cars The seekers of the sun They walk the beaches and the shores They rub suntan lotion and balm They wear sunglasses and hats They smile to the sky and the sea Forgetting that which they left behind Feeling that this was all meant for them Playing with the notion that this could be forever The seekers of the sun Hand in hand with their lovers and mates They greet passersby and others Drinks in hand they sit Careless and free in cafes by the beach And when night arrives Dance to Marimba and Reggae The seekers of the sun In the morn, they rise with the sun Rush again to the beach Sinking their toes in the sand Feeling happy and glad They serenade the day, clouds and the deep Outstretched arms they follow the birds Happiness brought by the tide and waves Makes all things OK just then The seekers of the sun They turn their faces to the sea Open their hearts to the wind Forgotten is what awaits Back in the cold of the north And though this trip is ending They stare at the sea and keep pretending That today is forever and forever they are Children of the sea, lovers of the warm The seekers of the sun And when time comes to leave When the time of parting is at hand They say adieu to it all Leave behind the happiness they had The sea, sand and the bliss Of being free, careless and bold With their thoughts and desires The seekers of the sun Tomorrow they wear their gloves and hats Shiver waiting for taxis in the street Hiding their faces from the wind Feel the cold on their faces and feet Warm of tropics all forgotten Wishful feelings once again begotten Thoughts of distant shores Sunny beaches and music Of the sea and late night bands Are waiting for them there Next time perhaps they will stay Forever, for they are The seekers of the sun. Reza Ghadimi March 2020 |
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2020 New year is here, Christmas already forgotten Colored lights retrieved, Candles put away Luminaries are yet to be reclaimed From parapets on the roof Drying tree in the corner Cards stacked on the table Awaiting response Weekend is welcomed Glass of wine in hand Helping to forget the rush Of the many days leading here One last look at group pictures Sent by family and friends Who couldn't make it To see us this year But there are always birthdays Mothers day and fathers day Fourth of July is yet to come For now the New Mexico winter Freezes the moment till the spring thaw We wrap the blanket tighter And inch closer to the fireplace Fresh memories of silly jokes And gurgling babies Bring another smile to our tired faces After all the main reason Is the renewal of our bonds For one Christmas or ten You don't forget the hugs Some years later When the eyes get too old And bellies too large There will be remembrance Of today by the pictures Staring back from the mantelpiece Oh C......, so sexy in that pose G... soaking the sun - I'm jealous Here is E....... with face full of food And this of proud daddy holding her up And again by the flowers in Mommy's lap A.. smirking, K........ grinning, M... so happy With their loved ones by their side And we the proud parents Wiping the eyes clean Memories of moments stacked on moments of memories It was a good holiday; Jan. 4, 2020. Reza Ghadimi |
RAIN DROPS - Chillicothe, Ohio Family House It rained all night And most of the day too Clouds moving fast and light Pouring rain on the woods and towns Sitting on the back porch Of the old family house Listening to the rain drops Hitting leaves, trees and roof Drip, drip, drip The old house creaking The traffic on 104, break The rhythm of the rain drops Its late in the day, night is falling Kate and Bekah gone for pizza I am alone in the musty old house Through its closed and vacant halls I can hear a distance voice It seems to say Wasn't yesterday, a better day? It must be my imagination That I hear laughter in the back rooms Sounds of little footsteps, running Back and fort, and aroma of Food being cooked by loving hands And a girl's voice singing Now the house is empty In the rain, under the cloud Rugs on the floor, pictures on the walls They remember and say, wasn't yesterday, a better day? A dragon fly flutters elusively Against the torn and dirty screen Cobwebs in the corner, spiders waiting Rain has stopped, drips off the roof have not Drip, drip, drip Reza Ghadimi Chillicothe, OH June 18, 2019 |
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Labyrinth of uncertainty Between the realms of righteousness and wickedness There is a field of decency surrounded by impiety There, many are lost in the maze of uncertainty Among the hazy passageways, dwells Father of Time Patient, wise, wicked and old Curiously watching all go by Passers-by glance at him, then away, disturbed. A smile hidden by the many wrinkles of his face Shines through his eyes, mischievously revealing That many secrets muddle the depth of his spirit and soul Occasionally a wise someone asks; "Father, how long have you sat there?" "This maze was lighter and crowded less" says he "Most who came through did not return. Not so today, many are lost, Aimlessly wondering round and round."" "Will you guide me out of here?" Some would ask, hopefully "Time is endless in the labyrinth of uncertainty For those who search for that which cannot be had Stop and look behind at your footprints If they are straight, follow them back out But if the path you left behind was aimless The way out will be forward If only in a straight way you go." Reza Ghadimi 11/19/2018 |
Being a Veteran 2017 I felt sure why I was fighting My country said go, and I went I don't know why some objected I was needed and I was sent It's not the desire of a man to battle We just want to live our lives Free of hatred, slavery, injustice In a world without guns, bayonets or knives But when the need is there We are surrounded by dangers When our homes are burning And its time to send in the rangers I will gladly set aside My every ease and peace To protect all that is dear Go and fight and help it cease I may not comeback Even lose a friend or two Still its preferable To a life of unrest and empty of view So I joined up and put on my hat Marched along with some great guys We fought some but at the end We owned the world and even the skies Now I can stand up proudly and say I am a veteran, live in a country that’s free It was no sacrifice but an honor And to my fellow vets; I salute thee! Reza Ghadimi November 2017 |
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SPRING WIND It is spring time and the wind blows It bends the aspen and the pine Swaying and shaking as their sap flows Lilacs are budding, apple trees unsure In the spring the wind has no melancholy As the tiresome days of the summer Rather it blows with intention A wake-up call to all winter sleepers The bright sun is warm, not hot But there is still a chill in the mountain air And as the sun slumps behind the hill We shiver, my animals, trees and me The keen wind is creeping down the slope With the icy message that Winter is not over, keep your coat on Point well taken, we hurry home The clear night of the desert Stars shining, the air chills Chickens to the pen, Dogs in the shed Another log in the fire Stoke it back to life Wrap a blanket about me Winter not yet gone, spring not yet here And the wind, coming from so far away Rustles the branches, disturbs the calm And in the essence of it, a wisp of the ocean Note of the days yet to come, affectionate and warm But first the spring wind through the canyon Swaying trees, back and fort in a pitch Melting the frozen water in the pond Trickle in the stream, hope of the water in the ditch. Dream of the summer Watching the garden grow Fruit on the trees Goodness of God row after row Reza Ghadimi March 2017 |
Wild horses in my yard My dogs, this morning woke me From a deep sleep and a now forgotten dream The wild horses were back, nibbling on whatever grass Still remained in this late autumn day Denying them, is denying me too And we have come a long way To call this land our home The horses and I We came here to find the sun To bask in its indifference To roam the wilds in search of A new freedom To cry when we wanted to Not when we had to And to smile with the sun As it warmed our backs and our spirit I don't know what it was that we found But I am happy as I look up At the sky, the clouds and the mountains And in the way they look at me I feel that the horses are happy too. Reza Ghadimi October 2016 |
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The Moon and You I woke to look at the moon And disturbed your sleep Your even breathing interrupted I tip toed out of the room The moon was bright and full The most in many years I am told But I found you more pleasing Upon my return to bed Peaceful in your embryo sleep Covers wrapped about you Made me jealous to see anything Touching you but me. I crawled into your warmth And listened to your peaceful murmur The light of the Harvest Moon bright enough For me to see your dreaming face Now it is morning and you are gone I follow your absence through the house And keep our home warm, till you return Hurry, Please. Reza Ghadimi November 15, 2016 The day after the night of the Harvest Moon |
Happy New Year 2017 The new year arrived in the middle of the night A newborn baby Eyes amazed, unsure of surroundings The year ahead, life yet to come In the morning, blue jays cackle Diving for their chow The cat is stalking Too obvious in the snow Smoke leaves the chimney hesitantly Into the blue sky over the mountain In the distance, a train whistles And quickly dies in the frigid air. Trees are dormant Still, in the frozen morn The wind is silent Too cold to run In the river the surface is frozen But the gurgle under the ice Snakes it's way through the rocks Hoping to exit somewhere else In my heart too I look ahead, hoping for a better world Bewildered by what's around me And think of the days coming my way! Reza Ghadimi Last week of 2016 |
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Birds of a Color Falcon and falcon, sparrow with sparrow Birds of a color, their own color, they follow Only the naive man is so enthralled To force himself, a bitter pill to swallow Reza Ghadimi October 10, 2015 |
Where do You Hang Your Cloths to Dry? I wondered through the clothesline labyrinth of childhood marveling at all that was revealed in those garments linens swaying in the breeze, my mind wondered away There are clotheslines everywhere in the world everyone hang their clothes to dry somewhere in the backyards, on the rooftops, across alleyways I have been through so many cities and towns, mingled with so many cultures, and seen so many clotheslines that today, I feel that I am an expert in judging people by their clotheslines, imaginary or real. Where do you hang your clothes to dry? Does the breeze that blows through your garments smell of flower gardens or does the rank of black chimney smokes and coal powered stacks foul them? Does the wind that make your clothes dance, bring you sea breeze or the suffering of the ghetto dwellers permeate the hanging garbs? My drying clothes came with me, from the roof tops of Persia to the mountains of New Mexico. It’s been a journey that has taken me a life time but, here I am. Wearing a hat cocked to one side and exchanged my tattered pants for blue jeans I don’t know though, that whether the life I exchanged made me spiritually poorer or richer. I did learn a lot in my journeys the most important that our lives are molded, not by the knowledge that we gain but by the choices that me make! Today my clothes bring me the scent of mountain pine and pinion only because, a long time ago, I took the road out of the cities and into the open now many years later and a long life behind me I lay at night listening to the howling of coyotes and hang my clothesline in the mountain woods! Be wary of the choices that you make (It is said that) "The reason God has made the world round is so that you can’t see too far down the road" be careful in choosing your options and hope that your clothes dance in the winds of happiness. Reza Ghadimi Friday, July 13, 2012 |
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Colors of Time! If you could color time Would you color it gold? Or perhaps color of rose for all the good times. Or maybe even pink for the fun times. If I could color time I would color it that of a rainbow. If I could color all the times of my life It would be that of a kaleidoscope. Rose for the fun times, Blue for the sad times. Green for the bad times, And purple for the mad times. If I could color time Would it be a fading one Now that I am old Or a sunny one for all the feats of mine? What is the color of happiness I wonder Or that of loneliness? I must ponder! If I could color my feelings, Would it be red, blue, white or something asunder? If one could color time It could be according to one’s feelings Or one’s wishes, hopes, or even longings. Aspirations too I suppose, could be colored something. But if you could color time Would you? Or leave it timeless For time is endless And no color can last that long. Reza Ghadimi May 2012 - after the solar eclipse. |
The Teasing Spring Spring, she is a teaser! With her tormenting winds, she plays with man and nature alike. Showing a cleavage of summer and uplifted wind blown skirt, she excites and arouses the world with fantasy of pleasures of the months yet to come. Winter hangs on to her flowing skirt as she flirts with the sun and sky. Every peek of the sun brings a warmth to the coldness of plant and animal alike. And with every rise in temperature, blades of grass peek through the snow and buds open on the trees as they dance back and forth to the tempo of the wind. After every use, I clean the fire stove in anticipation of the coming warm days only having to run back into the forest in search of scraps of wood to make one more fire, and watch her giggle and tease by blowing snow flakes into my face. It is May and it is snowing. The lilacs spread their aroma through the snow and apple blossoms shiver and smile with every blow of the wind. I too, play hide and seek with my winter and summer clothes as I wait for her to stop her teasing games, and in anticipation of the coming summer, I open the windows a tad more. Reza Ghadimi Spring 2011 |
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Choya's Lesson! As I was walking down the hill, A Choya spine stabbed my heel, In protest, I screamed and in response, it said to me; You are mobile, I am not. Go around for I am still. Reza Ghadimi - Dec. 2011 |
A Valentine Letter to Me! I have been so many places and loved so many times that I’ve forgotten who or why or when whether on a warm beach in the tropics or in a cold city in Europe it did not seem important, but only that we were there, exchanging love Though love has it’s warmth it feels lonely to love strangers they do the most harm loved for a night, a week, a month and then gone but memories linger even when they collect cobwebs in the corner of our mind Those of us lucky enough, will find that special someone who will give us solace in all the cold nights of our life in all the hard days, challenging days, trying days that special someone that is so hard to find sometimes Then God gave me Kate now she keeps me warm, her presence comforts me on Valentine’s day or other days with her warm arms and the essence of her gentle heart I need not worry about presents or richness of my pockets with her everyday is Valentine’s day Since our children are gone, I have more time to love her I hug her goodbye in the morning and count the hours, till we are together again then hug her again. - Hello Our cold house in winter gives me more reason to stay close to her sometimes at night when I can not sleep, I lay there watching her my mind wonders around the confines of my memory I take comfort to see her breathing in rhythm her body warm, her gentle heart beating to the music of life listening to her, I waltz my mind around the room and back swinging, twirling, now by the ceiling, now by the walls one more time around the room Sometime my mind takes me back to the yesteryears of my life all those other warm bodies loved and forgotten remembrance of my youth, brings a certain excitement to my old heart Kate allows me trips to my yesteryears for with every trip, my love for her grows stronger! And anyway, now I can only remember the places where it happened than the names And who was the one on that foggy night in London town? I smile to myself and return to the waltz turn, swing, turn again, and again and yet one more time then the blessed sleep to the music of her breathing! I am happy - I am lucky Happy Valentine’s day - yes! Reza Ghadimi Thursday, Feb 11, 2010 |
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