Poem for the sun

What is a reminder of the day?
If not the absence  that night stays.

I knew one day
this would come,
writing a poem for the sun.

Life begun
the creation
of elemental hydrogen and oxygen.
Evolution, like processing the information,
of an experimental civilization,
later with technological communication.

This ancient deity,
A millennial ago, to the current centuries we know
is other worldly, in that
It is inanimate, yet part of the family shrine.
In our blood lines, like photosynthesis in a vine.

There’s a darker side
to this divine mastermind’s legacy
Who is worshiped with war ships & artillery?
Praised, like to be raised well,
as an appraisal in an auction cell.

History, usually is written by the winners,
But now, when we are allowed to speak at dinner
We realize that all eyes
have something different to consider.
Look my brother!
To the sky to see your bigger sister.

-A poem for the sun
and before I’m done,
for once its not a mister,
but a mystery,
that there is only one.

Thank you, to Private Bradley Manning

Excuse the delay of distribution,
We are human in an inhuman system,
Take in more information than you have permission.

Thank you Private Bradley Manning,
who is in prison for inadvertently bringing journalism,
From the depths, of excruciating evidence that is left,
in the most recorded war in history.
Of the dead casualties,
Now, there’s more accuracy in killing & counting bodies.
While still not being allowed to leak reality,
The obvious destruction of others property,
commodities, and surely the culture of our integrity.

Whistle blowers need protection as well as agency,
Thank you Private Bradley Manning
for your service in the military.

The U.S. withdrew combat troops,
but forgot the mercenaries.

Manning spent his 24th birthday in solitary.
He should be released & honored respectfully.
He is loved by the Afghan and Iraqi citizenry,
He is loved by lovers of transparency.
This martyr of human dignity,
gives me energy for poetry,
even when there is none.

Resistance has begun,
Thank you Private Bradley Manning,
you are a son in many families.
Hold strong you will be released sooner than eventually.

To Chris Hedges, for his Empire of Illusion

This wreckage of space and time’s pollution,
was well articulated,
by Chris Hedges’ Empire of Illusion,
The end of literacy,
literally by the triumph of  spectacles, visually,
typical to intolerance,
through misogyny, plutocracies,
and the advance of selling happiness with marketing,
the end of American manufacturing,
the rise of right wing neo-con ideology,
where capitalism will not be
synonymous with democracy.

A well versed rhetor,
and writer of the poor,
A national bestseller sold in stores,
Winner of the Pulitzer Prize Award,
An author who opens eyes and door<
At the Nation Institute
observing the present and future wars,

include this edition into tuition we cannot afford.

To my family

My mother name is Fariba, and my father is Abbas.
They are the god’s that brought me to earth,
I love and thank them for all of my life’s achievements and worth,

The roots that grew in the dirt, gave me, the ability to network,

With my greater family in the planet earth or even greater universe,

Make all of what you do better and not worse,

Immersed to burst happiness and birth the truly remarkable & miraculous,

As a bachelor, I’m about to get my bachelor’s degree in Communication Studies

After I self-publish my own book of poetry, and firstly

                I’d like to thank my family, all of the Rahnamai’s

                And my extended family of the Ghorashi’s, Saidd’s

                Rest in Piece Ali Deghani,

                Love to Xander from Leah and Omid,

Bijan Afkami leadership class

                taught me early on public speaking.

My family connects to everywhere,
Other sides of the hemisphere,
Have no fear my dear, we’ll get there
To share moments and memories,
The first time we cooked food when hungry,
Soothed our worries with tea, befarmen,

Farmede farsi, harfmesane, ballade,

A ballad of poetry to be said,
Gratefully dead, from Ferdowsi to Hafez,
To leaving a better world when dead,

To know and not to do it is not to know,
As said from ancient proverb, so go
And do what have to, survive is the first,
To self-nourish takes more than practice rehearsed,
Heed and read about power and its thirst,
Collected after hours is our purpose in seconds,

Respectfully to predecessors brought back to essence