Writing

In this page, you can find my writing pieces in prose and poem. English is my second language, and I do not master it, but every now and then, I like to play with words.

I also have included my writings in Persian language, if you cannot see the letters, you may have not correct fonts on your computer.

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I wanted to tell you a tale, but let’s just go for a story:
I’m not sure if it was last year or 2013, but it was in fall, not autumn. Maybe September or maybe the 9th month of the year.
I decided to hang out with a couple of friends, one is a girl, and the other is female. The girl is very beautiful and short, but the other one is petite and so charming.
I said “let’s go and watch a movie”, but they had a plan to go to a cinema theater.
Before heading to cinema, we decided to go for some food, because they were so hungry, but I was just starving .They said they would like some burgers, but I decided to grab some fast food. I ordered a pizza half plain, and the other half just cheese.
Then we went to a theater, where my friends watched “The Professional” but I went for “Léon”.
Although they both enjoyed their time very much, but I think it was an awesome night 😉
Did you like my story or you just enjoyed reading it?!

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I was going outside… because they were singing about someone whom they didn’t know inside…
It’s raining outside… I take off my fedora hat.

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Among my only ten fingers in my only two hands, there is just one with only three scars, but hundreds of memories.

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The red leaf fell.
The man looked up.
The squirrel scared.
The squirrel hid.
The man never looks up again.
The squirrel had fallen in love.

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The band stopped,
He was dancing.
People left,
He was dancing.
They turned the lights off,
He was dancing.
There are dances in the world with a start, but no end.

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The best color is transparency.
The best place is nowhere.
The immortality is death.
Die before you’re dead!

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Hey!
If you listen carefully, you can smell the light with your fingers!

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Grandpa came.
The tree was there.
Grandpa left.
The tree stayed.
Dad came.
The tree was there.
Dad left.
The tree stayed.
I came.
The tree was there.
I left.
The tree stayed.
The tree never leaves.
The tree forever stays.

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I wish I could be like the Earth;
Rotating around myself, and revolving around my love.

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Winter is neither a factor of date and time, nor weather. It’s just an echo of the distance.
A Persian poem says: A gulp of poison with you is sweeter than a jar of honey without you.

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A few cookies a day, keep bastards away!

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Because of that enormous magnificent love, I quitted claiming you.
I also quitted myself, just because of that enormous magnificent love.
And still the temptation of a red apple doesn’t let my heart sleep till twilight.
I want to go back to the pre-apple age and claim you back.

برای آن عشق عظیم، از تمنای تو گذشتم

از خویشتن نیز گذشتم، فقط برای آن عشق عظیم

و هنوز وسوسه سیب سرخی، دلم را تا سحرگاه بیدار می دارد

می خواهم به زمان پیش از سیب برگردم و آنگاه تو را تمنا کنم

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The octopus has three hearts and eight legs.
I have one heart and two legs.
She has no heart, but a thousand lovers.

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Is the selfless shellfish, who sells fish selfish?!

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This is a poem in Persian language about the fight between “Gothmog”, the Lord of Balrogs, and Ecthelion of the Fountain, in the battle of Gondolin.

فرمانروای بالروگان از شهوت خون های ریخته مست،
و تازیانۀ آتشین در دست
سایۀ اهریمنیش پیرامون
چنین بانگ برآورد که ای اکتلیون:

«بنگر که چگونه همرزمانت حقیر
به گرز و دشنه به زیر،
یا چو دریوزگان به بند اسیر
…اینک به زخم گوتموگ بمیر.»

اکتلیون، تیغ الفیش به کف بُرّان،
شیر بیباکیش به دل غرّان،
دشمنان ز خشمش گریزان،
و زمین رزم به زیر پایش لرزان،
به پیش آمد و فرمود که: «هان!

ای بگشته به وهم کبر فسون
تار و پود ننگینت سرشته به خون
تقدیر اکتالیون…
نه به دست کسی است چون تو زبون.

بدان که اینک زنم جامۀ سایه گونت چاک،
و بمالم پشت تزویرت به خاک،
که امروز …
جایگاه من و توست اندر یک مغاک.»

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I had been brought to the garden to meet you, but the redness of a pomegranate stole my eyes.
When I came to myself, there were no you in the garden, neither an un-rotten pomegranate on trees.
This, bothers my body, that, my soul.
This, I cannot forget, that, I don’t want to.
This, doesn’t leave me, that, I cannot possess.
This, ended with a scar of regret, that, left a beam of hope.

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A digital file love poem:
Click me here, Click me there
Don’t be shy, Pull my hair
Drag me here, Drop me there
Copy-paste me, I don’t care
Rename me here, Back-up me there
But don’t delete me
‘Cause it’s not fair!

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– What’s your name?
– Morteza Asgari.
– OK, your name is Morteza, but why should I “ask Arrey”?!
– Actually my last name is Ass….Garry!
– Oh sorry! and what’s your father’s name?
– Mohammad Vali
– Hey! I don’t care where do you live, “Beverly Hills” or “Mohammad Valley”!
– No no no! I don’t live with my dad!
– Oh my God!

[a few seconds of silence…]

– So, what do you do?
– Voodoo!
– Do you?
– We do!
– Who do?
– Me and Golriz Faaker.
– Why should you do this with someone who makes love with this “Gloria”?!
– Who is Gloria?
– I think she’s the one who does voodoo with you.
– Who do?
– You do!
– Voodoo?

[a few seconds of silence…]

– Jesus Christ!

[a few minutes of silence…]

– I hate this job!

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