Let's talk
let's have a long walk together
about life
about the way we are living
about my country
about the poor, and the whores, and the man living life under circumstances, about scenic distance of loneliness and a scar of yesterday that needs healing

let's talk
let's take a long walk
about the eyes that is wide open in the midst of your own darkness
about the love that you reminisce about having
about the sublime that you feel from time to time after having a really disappointing day
about the sales call that you make
about the failures
about your make up
a touch in the cheeks and a tilted nose of a confidence man

about sitting in the chair for 8 hours straight
about your own hate about different forms of life
about the mystic solitude that makes you calm
about being a man and a women that mingles with their eye shadow, and their own selfishness of not having the way of god
about the dog that looks at every one in a circular manner and barks
about the style of a cat that hides in the fur and touches your skin when she is hungry
about the day and the days and the time of you being a mortal creature
about yesterday that you have already forgot
about death
about infinity
about the lose of yourself
about having no emotion
about having too much emotion
about touching the stars of delusions and a failure as a writer that could see no more

a single stroke in the ideas of thoughts that floats in between of your own authenticism and a borrowed one
All of the things are borrowed form one another
whether it is our father who taught you to get a grip when doing something dangerous
or the philosophers that has ideas about different ideas and their own kind of idea that sprung it all up
or your mother that lives in the fear of loneliness and about his son that is in the midst of something profound and dangerous

his son lacks everything, that fear touches the ground when she looks at his child and his grown beard and the shape of the father that has left a great impact of who he is becoming
what is he becoming?
he is obliviously at the mercy of his own hand that gives him freedom to write whatever the music is taking him
sometimes the music gives great quality sessions of different fields
sometimes its your own hand that tells the brain that you are alive
to give a chance ,to take his bet and play it all in
but he is too fool to know everything
just like a beggar who has all the suffering in the midst of a dusty chaos
to give a piece its due diligence
too fool to know everything

short lines of a certain description
of making you think your own thoughts
to make you vulnerable, and having a chance as a writer to make you stick till the end
a job of sort
or a unconscious effort that maybe it is something good!

The man and his different lives
in the end , he plays the wise guy that has seen it enough
and for the women it is quiet the opposite
she wants to feel everything that is going around
what is going around?
the judgement?
the masturbation?
the wait?
the boredom?
the time that keeps us in haul of nothing good!
women and their soul of a narcissistic fashion
of a sympathetic god that can bring world peace
that has its own desire that lures every man till the end to get a piece of gold until it becomes too old
woman and being too unknow with her and her own pain
and her childhood
and their own curiosity that sees every man
man sees them and you create in the name of art, the name of just there
a simple piece that is having its moment

women, and the man becoming too distant with the contemplation
because man and work goes hand in hand
he forgets sometime that women too are work that needs its place in time
a soft work that has its depth inclined with the need of the hour
but too much of everything is bad
you know that
but when it comes to women they don't know that
either your effort will be regarded as cheap voluntary exploitation to sleep with her
or just another man with his pain
because man and pain is a title of a book that every man carries around his waist to give him meaning

let's talk
let's have a long walk
to the other side of the side rows
to the other side of the bed locks, of a curled mountain that has its own calling

Let's talk.