Moahammad Maleki

Moahammad Maleki Poems

Arrows of poverty darting from throes
Thorns of destitution germinating from thrones

Flood of orphans sprouting on ghettos of misery

There is a sound within my soul portending a long night of inner-tumult
There is a sound rising from the very compartment of my body
Devouring sanity of logic like a covetous scavenger chewing its victim

Last night clock stroked 9: 33
Death knocked the door of my isolated room
As if shrouded around a long dark veil
His guise was hidden behind a dull barrier


he was drowned in the ocean of burned and dry leaves in the jungle of nothing in nowhere

when he got up he noticed a tattered and shabby shackle in distance

Faint light made its way through the slightest rip in
Penetrated deep into sheer gloomy
Fragmented shards of darkness scattering on floor
Oh, asymmetrical look on stagnant floor boding catastrophe for future

I always ponder in my lss
Why fortune always eludes me?

But I come to same conclusion every time

I am not like other people

I have my maddness, my labyrinth twists, my curiocity

Gloomy, duller than dull, vapid class

Full of reek

He is alone

Ceded to destination


When I go to crowds

I can find a bunch of nothing


From thy mouth
This sorcerer of time
Hours and minutes leaking and droping
On the monster of cruelty

Yearning for a land

Where its windows have not been enveloped within fetters of curtains
Where there shall not be any metropolis of urbans


Current of autumnal fog everywhere gush through
And the ghosts of vales and hills trudging all through

Torching sun is rubing her front head over darkness

Anywhere you are
... seek from downward
The genesis of treasures is buried beneath

I thought world is palace of dreams
The gargantuan shelter of serenity
The castle of assured future
The orchard of nightingales and euphonic birds

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The ultimate purpose of life is expansion of happiness.)

The Best Poem Of Moahammad Maleki

Children Of Poverty

Arrows of poverty darting from throes
Thorns of destitution germinating from thrones

Flood of orphans sprouting on ghettos of misery
Torrents of waifs are pouring out from poverty-stricken outskirts of melancholy

Usurped future awaits them to heap upon their plights reprieved
Kingdom of agony is their permanent cottages of lights bereaved

Freezing winters and searing summers passing by
Infants of heedless justice praying with weep and cry

Begging god for walking on meadows of unceasing happiness
Yearning for unfading dreams of incessant caress

They are mere innocent victims of hostilities
Deprived of even vital facilities

Malnutrition wreaking withdrawl of stomachs on waists of threadbare bait
Refrigerators are deserts of poignant barren fate

Eradication of poverty is ridiculous mottoes of powers
We should take a determined action to raze this FATAL pestilence of populace.

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