2 poems by Poet in Residence Mansour Noorbakhsh

And into your ears only 
 		
I need to lurk rather than walk. 
I’m forced to lurk if I am still thinking of you. 
We were content to read a poem aloud. 
And to an inhalation of a loud laugh. 

We have been forced to remain silent, 
in honor of the generic products’ anthem. 

Wine doesn’t aspire to livelihood these days. 
Although we’ve lived within our whispers of wisdom. 
And in the smell of old books of love stories. 
The eternal inhaling of poisonous wine and honey. 
Drunkenness and freedom. 

I’ll whisper into your ears and into your ears only, 
if I could calm my dizziness on your shoulders. 
And on your shoulders only. 

A deliberate poem and a deliberate poem only 
helps me to breathe.  
Even without inhalation of a loud laugh. 

While we’re lurking to escape predators.  
Share your whispers with me. 







Wavy In All Its Curves 

                 January

I was wandering around.
like someone who is wasting time.
Waiting restlessly to see
the most beautiful moment of the world.
I was waiting for a sudden rain to fill my silence with songs.
Although it was me who told you that nothing will come to you by itself.
Except death

                 February

You poked me to search for somewhere around the love.
You moved me to get closer to see the flickering lights from afar.
As evidence for believing in there are possible places for
living happily.
You returned then,
and I stayed there, paralyzed, 
to watch the flickering lights. And only the flickering lights.

                 March

I wrote for you and I knew
that you will never read it.
Those who read me are others 
like me.
Lonely ones trapped in rituality and wishing for happiness.

                 April

You and I walked on the same soil
to grow on it and grow again.
We were promised that we’d flourish. 
An ultimate and sublime goal.
And we fell in love with the rain
to wash our eyes. What happened though,
yet we haven’t shared our visions together?

                 May

Maybe, siting afar from each other
And being in love is painful.
But isn't that all what love is?
Isn’t that love in its entirety?  
Hasn’t been so always?

                 June

You will hear me.
I have no doubt.
But you never came closer, 
lest lips tempt kissing.
You like words rather than lips.

                 July

I wanted to cry hard.
And I couldn't
Something called “living like others”
confines me.
And commands me how to cry.
And how to smile.
So, I walked in the rain.
In the rain, and I wished to cry hard.

                 August

From the middle of May
until the middle of July
the earth becomes warmer and warmer.
So that plants tempt noisy sparrows
to become their partners.
And it rains too.
Some days relentless. Uninterrupted.
Later until the end of August
The heat is still there, but
only to dry and scorch what May had heralded.

                 September

Green, purple and black.
Golden, orange.
With all its curves, waving.
I have never seen such a blushing, 
and rosy sunrise, or sunset.
Six is not in the middle of twelve, I believe it’s all of it.

                 October

For me, September is kind fingers of a delicate hand
pointing to December, softly.
Tender and lively, unhesitant.

                 November

Your look was the strangest acquaintance.
The loudest silence.
The latest iteration.
The best sign ever for Spring to return.
New every time, and every time new.

                 December

You should write the ending.
As you marked the beginning too.
When you turned to look behind
it made the ending meaningless.
The ending is not what you might endure.
If there is an end, it is me. It’s embodied with me.
To me, the beginning was an imaginary vague, 
raw, and formless thing, before you.

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Mansour Noorbakhsh writes and translates poems in both English and Farsi, his first language. He tries to be a voice for freedom, human rights and environment in his writings. He believes a dialog between people around the world is an essential need for developing a peaceful world, and poetry helps this dialog echoes the human rights. Currently he is featuring The Contemporary Canadian Poets in a weekly Persian radio program https://persianradio.net/. The poet’s bio and poems are translated into Farsi and read to the Persian-Canadian audiences. Both English (by the poets) and Farsi (by him) readings are on air. This is a project of his to build bridges between the Persian-Canadian communities by way of introducing them to contemporary Canadian poets. His book about the life and work of Sohrab Sepehri entitled, “Be Soragh e Man Agar Miaeed” (trans. “If you come to visit me”) is published in 1997 in Iran. And his English book length poem; “In Search of Shared Wishes” is published in 2017 in Canada. His English poems are published in “WordCity monthly” and “Infinite Passages” (anthology 2020 by The Ontario Poetry Society). He is a member of The Ontario Poetry Society and he is an Electrical Engineer, P.Eng. He lives with his wife, his daughter and his son in Toronto, Canada.