Category: Uncategorized
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In Grieving
I have no poems in me right now. There is no solace in pretty words. No declaration of hope today. Only grief. 74 days of slaughter. What poetry is there for this abyss of death that is swallowing up my people back home? And the slaughterers? The torturers? How do they live with themselves? Brutalizing…
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A Radical Act of Hope
If we can’t envision something different, then we’ll have more of the same. We can look to the past to inform our present, while remembering that there is sociopolitical context to each historical moment. We can take action while also reflecting to make informed decisions. Critical thinking is key. And although it’s hard with the…
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A Witnessing
It’s killing season back home.the children of the children whonever learned to sew their mouths shut nowburn pieces of cloth in pyres of revolt,with bare heads screaming at a sky that holds no mercyfor this endless drought. Dehydrated tongues utter forbidden spellsas the profane becomes sacred on this ancient landwhere prayers to the sun, moon…
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The abandonment of Iranian Feminists
For decades, the voices of Iranian feminists, especially those living in Iran, has been silenced in many spaces, including the mainstream, the academic left, and activist movements in the west. If it’s not exclusion due to racism, it’s the dismissal of our oppression for seemingly “contradicting” the fight against imperialism and Islamophobia in the global…
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Reflections on “the intellectual Left”
Almost every disaporic Iranian women I know who is left-leaning and feminist knows the problematics of our positionality within leftist and feminist narratives in the global north. As Iranian women, we are well aware of western interests in our part of the world, and the role it’s played in preventing democracy in our country. What…
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Reflections on Feminism
A day of silence & off social media. The privilege of this. Of being able to tune out of the revolution that’s happening in real time back home, led by youth, by young women and girls, sparked by the brutal murder of Jina Mahsa Amini by a state that upholds femicide & violence against the…
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Someone asked “how I was doing”.
a volcano inside mestays dormant hostile dwelling within stunning rupture of self withholding truthsstifling revolutionsswallowing resolutions.in times of tyranny delusionbetween selfies selfhelp selfsellingwe prayerhands in pretenceto false prophets for guidance during these dissentious times.but what of our ancestors? what of their truths?these days i hum echos of sacred songsancient tongues of those before mei sift…
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Honouring our pace.
I bought a bougainvillea plant with its flowers last summer. I brought it indoors and sheltered it from freezing temperatures over the winter. My mom told me how to care for it, said it might flower again in the summer. I waited patiently as months passed. Watched its leaves fall. Saw it go into a…
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بید مجنون (a ghazal)
My bare feet kissing embers on this journey that is life.Beloved’s river within reach soothes fires of this life. A Weeping Willow whispers heaven’s secrets to the soil.My ears against soft earth await the meaning for this life. If harm is bred in greed, I grieve humanity’s demise.Surrendering to ancient roots – a healing in…
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The ebbs and flows continue.
I am not the most social person. If you’ve ever been in my close circle, you may have taken my lack of consistent connection with you personally. And I can’t blame anyone for that. I also can’t blame myself. Most social interactions drain me. Some may call me a loner, but that wouldn’t be accurate.…
Shadi Eskandani 