MANGER, STABLE, MUZZLE

This piece of bread is yours to hold 

Treasure what is bestowed  

Turn your gaze and find contentment  

Embrace your lot with joyous fulfilment

Mehrdad Khataei (April 2024)

‎A small bit of me

Beneath my watchful eye

Becomes a sign of me

Meaning ‎

Something happens in something ‎

And the little bit of my first self ‎

Happened in the second self

Making a sign of me in a third self  ‎

‎

Colors are homologous!‎

Are they cognates too? What is their destiny and ending? ‎What happens to lines? Or shapes and forms? Where is their ‎watering place? Do you truly look at faces? When was the last ‎time you stared at one? Which did you fall in love with? In ‎love with which one of its faces? Which one did you abandon? ‎Do you still fall in love? Is it still possible to fall in love? Or, no, ‎do you still see masks instead of faces? You walk and stare at ‎faces, at eyes and give them your verdict?‎

Borders are alike in essence!‎

If you have never left any limit for anyone at all! If you have ‎looked for lines and meanings in places other than reading ‎your fortune in a cup of coffee! If you have carelessly looked ‎at borders, points and lines in the sky, among stars and ‎constellations! If limits and borders have any meaning for ‎you at all! If that time comes that you stop feeding from ‎others’ manger and resources, and moreover, instead of ‎gulping down the whole mouthful, keep some in your mouth ‎as cud? Cud! Do you truly chew the cud? Do you taste the ‎flavors? How about the borders? Do you understand the ‎connection between flavors and borders at all?‎

Javad Soroush

‎(1) Poem by Yadollah Royaee, The Past Me Signature ‎