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Never to be called Mom

A Poem by:

Sheema Kalbasi

Colourful Bar


Copyright shall at all times remain vested in the Author. No part of the work shall be used, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the Author's express written consent.

One day,

my eyes

were looking deep

into the blue sea

of my heart,

a monster of salty tears

rose from the waves,

I stopped laughing

at the moments of pink places

and a tiny village of... exhaustion was emptying

my battery of opening sentences,

When happy white rice puddings

didn't taste like they used to...

and a little butter was melting

in the remains of my thought

and the released


           rope of a child

           into an abortion world

where it was led to come undone,

my soul was windowless...



as two separate people,


to walk around my own body


a food recipe of mind,

kind of a therapy I better say,

to let myself grow with its power

and form a peaceful dance

of musical notes






my body

operate... function.

my loss

the evolution

of my nature






a sunflower


a rose-gift of occasions,

my soul moved

dancing to the music

which I played

the vision of happiness

to rescue my blinded womanhood

The Rain washes

away the Pain

... the Earth makes my roots stronger

Solid Ground,

My spirit... Faith.


Sheema Kalbasi
Copyright © 2000

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