Please, Father. Deliver me. Watch my semeion…
because this is not the place of the still waters
Boon pure as jade stones and lilies
below the moon – women dressed in the sun

But a place of eternal torment
Aion .. if you have not noticed
and behold the great fiery dragons.
Fire shines upon this red tears falling.

Dark clouds hang low
and blood to wild donkeys
it makes them gush their thirst.
up to the vanishing point

This is the valley of death
This is the death clock room full of
people with seven heads and ten horns
and the ala, with child, devoured cried,
a fucking ton of bricks fresh, at birth

For three evils and for the four that you did,
as I’ve decided to forgive you, too, Father,
fatherhood above, a father of us all
Do not worry, Father,
we, mortals, are inclined to forgive everything
And to feel.. and to see..
a chosen generation..
For this, I say to you by the word of the

Just get me out of here.

Copyright ©Leila Samarrai Mehdi2019®

* No part of this poem may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way or form or by any means electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise without the written permission of the author.*


Dragonfly dragonfly
with wings blue as the day
give me back my childhood
the heart and a ghost of love
take me back to those days of insanity

whatever is at child’s hand reaching
innocence, fallen at last
pitiless love to salivate my drawn-out days
seven wonders and more… more
with time to reconcile

There was a time each day was replete with splashy colours.
we gathered together to fly afar, above.
in the waters of our golden streams.
There was a time when you sang a song
the beautiful kiss of our precious dreams.

There was a time I dreamed a dream
Of a pool of light where rising sun sleep;
where no woman weeps
no friend’s betrayed
so, we met again and again

Seasons passed with a malice wearing silence
like a wicked thief in his wolverine gallop
I played on my own accord for a year or two
but swift enough to return to the shores of my childhood,
against time-worn pompous carrion

But flew he did! No pure drop of ta – land!
I fell at my feet as I were dead
a little dancer I never knew – a flower called peace and innocence
the missing, old age dump enemy.

The ice of prime survived my pain
the impressionable fall into the pit of pleasure-seeker.
so charm is all, but doomed and burdened call to find
the happiness on earth where happiness thrives

By all means, still, I hoped always be found
and I howled to the undisturbed tides, torn

“Give me back my dragonfly!!”

Somewhere there you held my soul
to hold me close as I grow old
and I knew that I was dying for so long
and I knew I was going to regret…

… that you never let me touch you
My unfulfilled love.

Kitty Kisses, to my beloved tomcat Spartacus

.12605331_173741199648543_3422781219120191768_oFluffy, curly-headed, looney ball!
He jumps upward and bounces off the walls.
Thwack! (Kerplunk)
Then he curls up, snoring in his sleep.
(Huuuuuuuhh. guhrrrrrrr huuuu grrrr grrrgrrr…..siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…)
He is such a such a noble cat!

Sometimes I call him Gerard Erickson.
Sometimes I call him Sanders Pennington.
He speaks, cat, dog, human:
‘Tomcat, are you going to eat the dog’s leg, perhaps? ‘ (rub, rub, up-tail)
‘Sspurr -ior! But.. I would paw – fer beef steak.’
(Huuuuuuuhh. guhrrrrrrr huuuu grrrrr)
‘Are the chicken wings too bad for you? ‘
A roasted mouse in the microwave?
‘Disa-purr-! , slave! ”

Before that, scratch my elevator – butt!
Then he turns, in Dead Mousie pose, and clumsily mumbles orders:
‘Open My door’
‘Close My Window’
‘No, do some ‘Prairie-Doggin”!
‘Do some Cat – Dance! ‘
Both left feet moving
Both right feet moving
‘Walk like a cat, you, clumsy camel!
Think like a cat!
More kitty – like! That’s it.
More kitty – like.
More more cattitude!
You have no style, let’s get you to ballet! ‘
He sings soprano (Mrrrowwww. Mrrowwww. mrrrrrowwwww.)

‘Merry Meow Birthday, my Batler, where are you?
Happy Meow, too you, too!
Fetch me my slippers!
Pass on my reading glasses!
I have to get my higher degree.
Heeeeeeere kittykitttykittikitttykitty!
Heeeeeeere kittykitttykittikitttykitty!
Heeeeeeere kittykitttykittikitttykitty!
Go kitty! …Off’

Winding Up
Digging In
Revving Up
Once he is in his cat – cradle
I am telling him tales to his fluffy tail
He is my, fur real, Claw-some friend
He is my dearest and purrrr-fect son
Arm to paw
Cheek to cheek
Heart to heart
Lips to muzzle (mwahhhh)
(Lub-dub…lubdub….lub-dub… Lubdub….)

with a wax masque of a Summer rain


with a wax masque of a Summer rain,
inconstant scatterbrain
the love of fathers is hell
on a st(ake)rand!
You, with your limb more stiff
than the dogmas of Lucifer.
Who have you forgot to permeate:

The Woman: who is a river
(for she flowed to you)
The Daughter: who is volcanine
( for she burned for you)
The Earth – which swallows you
(ultimate mistress)?
You, who are present but not present,


Hate has a heart!

The green heart of shot Lorca
and wrath of God!
He, alike you:

Does not love!
Does not forgive!
Does not kiss!
To gift the legal age
he rapes the Vestales


You growl too loud,
desert fa(ng)ther.

I know you encircle girls before the door.
I know you flow down their thighs sweaty.
Like unborn milk flows from me to you.
Like chrome sand flows from my eyes instead of tears.
Like thorns grow within my body and not children.
You, who are a corpse in formalin,
the mute vocalist of the torn wire,
the chalice of poison before sleep.


My shadow takes you off the wall,
a wingless bird in the darkness of the room,
will skin the marble face and his smile of a victor!


Even hope at times answers to the mute.
The dug away umbra from the extinguished lantern.

Oh, Burn! Burn!
Flame Pompeii, die in anguish!
May the abandoned children clap their hands!
May the thrilled audience scream of laughter!abandoning

Like I . . .

Like I who screamed
When Creator waded over me with words:
Maasalam*, my Child!

*ma’a salama good-bye in Arabic