24 Hours
24 hours
Is such short time
To dream a dream
Of dancing around fire, Blissful fairies of victory Hand in hand
With strangers I never met
24 hours
Is very short
To sleep and find the right side of the pillow
Get comfortable under the blankets
24 hours
Is too short
To brush your teeth
Take a shower
Clean off the sorrow on the skin
Salty gifts of the eyes
Oil off the hair
I wonder did my shower
Wake up the neighbour? Did it take 20 minutes this time? Did I take off
The heavy shadow
Off my back,
Under the warm stream?
24 hours
Is very short
To wash the dirty dishes Of your unmade supper Of the left over dinner On the scattered plates To wash it all
Off my teeth
Biting flesh
24 hours
Is very short
To watch BBC on my phone
Not knowing where to put the fork In my mouth
Or in my eye
The news is very hurtful
And I can only cry
24 hours is very short
To post some insta stories
About what’s going on in Iran
To hear your mother’s voice
With many disconnection
If they even manage to call at all! Its not easy these days
To hear your loved ones
On the phone;
Voices crack,
Videos crack,
My back cracks, ouch!
24 hours
Is very short
To speak to your dear ones To remember how it was
To feel safe at home
To remember their touch and the timbre of their giggles To be heard
To be loved
To walk under the eastern sun
No Revolutionary Guard ready to attack on
24 hours is very short
To inform the world
Of what pains your being
Maybe they feel curious enough To “want” to fight beside you
To push away the forced “angels” Weighting on our shoulders Drowning us
With all the empty words
Coming out of “their” mouth Shush, did I speak too loud?
Did I tear open you mended mind?
24 hours
Is way too short
To walk past hanging lights,
So far away
From a brother hanged
With the call for the morning prayer
A brother you never knew you had
A sister you’ll forever miss so bad
But you all knew the same freedom songs Same chants
The ones you’re now whispering Obliviously
Walking back,
Finding yourself at the door step
Of a place you now call home
In exile.
24 hours,
Goes by so quick
While trying to catch up
With the life you now have,
Normal, enough, calm
Which is now
Divided
Between meetings, lessons,
Coffee breaks,
In your own head;
In the dining canteen
Not even trying to hide
The fallen tears that now have redesigned your latte art.
24 hours
Is too short
To look at glowing faces around, Wondering what it feels like
Not to have a broken heart
Every minute of every hour
When you think of the word “Motherland” 24 hours is too short
And somehow we try to make it longer By checking the time differences Constantly following the news,
As we try to raise awareness
And join the protesting crowd,
Arranging plans in a way that
Each weekend we have time to
Participate in a demonstration
As others go in and out of the bars.
As they dance to music smashing ear drums
Our flags and placards swing in the cold winter blow Our voices flow angrily
Oh how I wish 24 hours was just enough
To live a normal life
24 hours, but, is way too short
To have breakfast
To wear the clothes you were never able to put on, In public,
In your homeland
To close the door of the house
And to walk or bike,
Knowing exactly how each day’s gonna follow Huh!
Its not our first time, Kid!
24 hours is way too short
To wake up,
With a clutched jaw,
And ask yourself: did I fall asleep
To the radio reporting horrible events? Second by second?
Of the slaughter?
Not shocked to find a name or two People you knew
In the report
Dead or jailed.
24
Is a small amount of hours
I have each day
To get out of the dream
Of dancing figures, circling Around a flame
And how I wish I had more time To dream this dream
Freedom is its name.
Jan 2023
A. Hekmatpanah