Final Movement 3
By: Jehangir Saleh
Written: November 21, 2003

Art is
Inside
Because it is beautiful
And we are not

It does not live
So we can live
Inside it

Never be lonely
Never lonely
It will stay
Stay
Until
We die

List Before We Die
By: Jehangir Saleh
Written: November 18, 2003

VARITATION ONE

You remind me a man who women give themselves to. Who leaves them at dark with only such precious naked memory, and they run to collect fragments of verse that litter the trail you travel. Dirt road is black, full of orchids only you can see. If Jesus planted an orchid I would want it to wilt in the buttonhole of your wool sweater. Petals floating away, like littering verse, toward the blur of your feet. I die white like orchids buds. You die wrapped in your sweater because you choose to stop running.

VARITATION TWO

We are not heroes by strict definition. Real heroes never die and therefore are not our kind of heroes. Perhaps only because there is no one brave enough to write them an ending worthy of their heroics. Weakness is our beauty. Our opposing foe not a mighty king plotting grand and towering murder, but the broken glass on the sidewalk, the question love, the darkness of the night to come. We are not heroes. We are not noble. You die on a throne of cold dirt covered by a blanket that you wove. I die jumping off the Argo.

VARIATION THREE

You die once. I die paranoid that I am not really dead.

By: Jehangir Saleh
Written: August 24, 2003

I am dying inside
He wanted to say
And it’s so easy to write about
Angst
She said
And I don’t understand
Why anyone would be so foolish
Neither do I he said
And they both were having trouble
Reading
This sort-of poem
Was broken dialogue
Like broken other things
That if you don’t know I’m not going to tell you
Which, like love, also fails
To make any sense

You think that perhaps
If you play the piano
Long enough
Pound the keys
Hard
(until the fingers bleed a bit)
that notes will remain
fluent in the air
and never die

you think if
I pound this
Hard enough
it will stay
with me
invade my silence
destroy
and make me whole again
with its long pause

where are you going?
I’m the one who
Promised to leave

NOTHING
By: Jehangir Saleh
Written:  July 14, 2003

upon arriving
a man spoke
“nothing is here, nothing
blooms, spreads, and nothing
converts
everything”

i said
“i have come
from nothing, it cannot
change me”.

through silence,
nothing stirred

together
we three
walked

Bus Ride 2
By: Jehangir Saleh
Written: June 18, 2003

there’s a disparity between
the attractive women and her snow flaked eyes
swollen, sullen, melting
after her sister’s death

last night
you waited to die in front
of the mirror
but decided to ride
the bus today
along with the other tragedies

embrace your tragedy
Character Sketch

Well,
i made an attempt
named a poem
after you

held an unlit
cigarette
sat down
to write

waiting instead
(like I usually do)
watched the empty room
it’s stillness
moving by

what do you
suppose it means
that you
as a subject of
study

is composed
completely
of questions
answers

are followed
by a question mark

By: Jehangir Saleh
Written: May 22, 2003

I am dying inside
He wanted to say
And it’s so easy to write about
Angst
She said
And I don’t understand
Why anyone would be so foolish
Neither do I he said
And they both were having
Trouble reading
This sort-of poem
Was broken dialogue
Like
Broken other things that if you don’t know I’m not going to tell you
That (which is like love) also fails to
Make any sense
But
You think that perhaps
If you play the piano
Long enough
Pound the keys
Hard
(until the fingers bleed a bit)
that notes will remain
fluent in the air
and never die

you think if
I pound this
Hard enough
it will stay
with me
invade my silence
destroy
and make me whole again
with its long pause

where are you going?
I’m the one who
Promised to leave

“Why?
What do I have to do
With your
Health”

I am siloquy

After Getting Lost
By: Jehangir Saleh
Written: May 11, 2003

You remind me
Of water
Without borders
Without the touch
Of land
Just water
Continuing
To more water
Deeper
To more deep
To more
deeper

And I want
To be the only
Mass
In the your water
To swim
And keep swimming
Or drown
And keep drowning
In the
Warm embrace
Of the sea

This Is Not Speech To Divine Revelation
By: Jehangir Saleh
Written: May 3, 2003

This little boy
Inattentive in Jamat Khana
Who will grow?
To be lost in his work

What would you be like now
As you search the streets for Shams?
They would lock you away
Arrest you for drunkenness and
Wonder why you never smelled of liquor.

Find you disoriented
Breathelizer test.

Gesture at Bay & Bloor
By: Jehangir Saleh
Written: April 30, 2003

Easy to trip on
That man with rancid in his voice
A slop on the sidewalk
Hands and mouth shaking at passersby
Rasps of hair peeking out
From the holes in his hat
Which he tips towards me
While I wait for the light to change
For things to happen,
For progression
Leaving him behind with the pigeons
And other pedestrians

I imagine walking back
Shaking his callused
But firm hands
Sharing a cigarette
Becoming dirty from his wisdom

He is a great mound of man –
Like the one where they waited for Godot
It was not a rock
But a blanketed homeless man
That meant nothing and never will-
As tragic as a permanent suit stain

A leather briefcase jabs my side,
The well-dressed crowd hungers for green
And I begin to think of my future
As the light begins to change