I’m coming
He’s written a poem “I’m coming”.
“I’m coming, ” he has said “to stand in center of tent.”
He’s Baluch had said “Kork”
Wants purchase from a shop, “Which I know it empty.”
“The shop, ” says “fills my mind.”
“It’s Mohammad’s”
(An old man) ”
And he talked
Smoothly and wealthy,
It was sweet.
And I was a camel
Days of walk in desert
Now water
I’ve come back from outside
With a poem in my mind
“Cloudy is sky” goes like this:
It is dark
Her parka with a cap is Purple
She’s walking a hotdog
With a leash; quite long
She’s eating her fries;
Her head down;
Too busy; is searching for last one
While running Dog looks up
“Please stop”
The Hotdog is dressed has foot-wear
Its back grey feet colored, Black-red
Seems tired and begging
Has no fun
It is dark
Drizzle, raindrops
People walk on sidewalk
They Cross Lawrence/Yonge
Some are with umbrellas
Some hidden in fur-hoods
Some enjoy falling drops
Some have bags
Some purse; some handbags
Road’s border with sidewalks
In open inches-high
If covered is Snow
Water runs, seek and hide
Borders are Chekhov’s gun
“Something’s there”
Will show up
A beggar, resistant
Is sitting for coins
(He gets some)
Naturalists
Romantics
Impressionists
Is snow’s text-script
Fresh-white
Black to brown’s dark
The snow describes (Chekhov-Like)
“Some reside, some arrive, things reveal
Looking close, nature’s art and mankind
Perseverance, Devoted-Unaware, Resilience
Snake-like water runs
Colorful blanket on beards, Blue-eyed
Thin like ghost fast comes out
Looks around…disappears
Where’s he gone?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem