EXILE
Exile is when one stands, not nude
But stripped of bones
It is a grave without a name
Two fugitive eyes to blind the pain
Exile; an asylum of rage retreating to the sea
To the ocean’s end, a shipwreck of a thousand dreams
Exile; a faceless army bereft of a flag
To the skies unfurled, a platoon of empty hands
Dark it is, come
To this perverted playhouse; Exile come in…
ON STAGE:
The Mockery of Death
The Travesty of Lives
In this bedlam where whispers die, the ridiculed language
of shame is Exile
Exile is Autumn, leaves wither
To the ground, blossoms fall
Exile, a place where they walk and you walk in that place
of no place
To be alive and recklessly idle. The doom of Exile
The day marred with darkness. The night wrecked starless
Aborted. The bearing of nothing is Exile
Enigma dies. In the wastes of wonder a fate seen and the
end begins
Exile is an edge on the verge of a dive and demise
A battle lost or a loss without a battle
Unbidden, you cry
Exile, the tightrope of ego. Debarred from self. You fall
Assailed by nothing, your name wilts like a petal
In the evening, it leaves you. You fall.
Exile, there are no memories. Images shrivelled in the dry
There are no corners. Just roads endless
Who is there to touch you? Go lay with trees uprooted
Exile is departure without leaving. Leaving without
waving goodbye
Exile is solitude robbed of silence. An open cage unsung
Exile, the predicament of existence. Remain absent or
become?
Exile, an odyssey from the archives of instinct. A refuge
to the beginning of time
Exile is the colour of distance. The woven threads of
birth undone
Exile, a wave left at shore
Exile is run
Exile is shelter
But
On the other side
STERILE COLOUR
Amidst wood and fire
I swallow the incidence of white;
The avalanche of winter
The pallid cold
The bloodless axe
The anaemic forest
White flames
Carved ivory
Ashes
Alabaster eyes
FIXED
She forgot to live today
Her eyes fixed above
Her skin ashen
She spoke fragmented
And
Suddenly
She recalled the life she had mislaid
Sitting there
Trivial
Midst the fishing bait
REVEL
Suddenly
Snow falls
Suddenly
The world is white
Suddenly
The ground and the dormant dragons glitter
and shine
Suddenly
Silence possesses mountaintops
White bewitches
Suddenly
Snow slowly melts
The white veil snatched
From beauty
Unwed
Suddenly
It is all back to
Gravel
And
Grey
DIPLOMACY
It is evening
The moon under the scrutiny of
the departing sun
Midst the invasion of violet
Lunacy ensues
On the scarlet theatre of dusk
The night is born
As eve gathers its crimson
claws
The titanic weight of black
descends
Drowning
The dawn
The day and
The sinking dusk
Laily Mahoozi is a neuroendocrinologist/poet
based in Iran. Her life is a matrimony between medicine and poetry.
In 2005, she obtained her specialty in Pituitary diseases from the University
of Virginia, the world’s leading centre. Upon her return to Iran, alongside her
practice she founded ‘Healers for Heritage’ — an initiative to revolutionize
the rigid traditions in medicine and help revive ancient ruins. By transferring
her clinic to the heart of historical sites and bazaars, she has curated
alternate spaces of healing for patient-care — body and soul.
Devoted to writing poetry and calligraphy, her 2000 unpublished poems reveal a
life in exile — Revolution, war and immigration. In 2012, her book of short
poems, ‘Curve’ was published. Her English translation of selected poems by the
esteemed Iranian, Sohrab Sepehri is under publication.
In 2016, ‘Healers for Heritage’ held its first international gathering of
renowned neuroendocrine medical experts and preeminent scholars of history,
literature and art in Iran. The event aspired to discern the enigmatic
association between Attar’s (12th century Iranian poet) ‘Seven Valleys of Love’
and the seven hormones of the Master Pituitary gland. A documentary film
unfolding this surreal saga is under production.
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