Shahriar Shahriari

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Poems - Humorous - Group 3

 

Gold

They say there was a man sailing the ocean with much gold
Until his ship encountered a storm, ferocious, cold
The ship broke up and started sinking
To save his gold the man began thinking
He made a belt of gold weighing two hundred pounds
T'is the truth I'm told, even though absurd it sounds
With his golden belt into the ocean he jumped to save his gold
Sank to the bottom before the ship, his soul to the devil thus sold
They said he owned much gold, but it seems the gold was his master
Such thoughtless idolatry, worship of Mammon can only lead to disaster.

Beware my friend that the gold you own should not own you
Else in a moment of panic plunge to the bottom of the deep blue.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
May 29, 1997


 

Heavenly Bodies

A heavenly body seems to be many people's highest goal
I don't have a heavenly body, but I have a heavenly soul
Heavenly bodies, the way I see, are only found in the sky
To become a heavenly body, you must shed this one and die.
But each of us is a star, our reach can go very far,
Heavenly soul is our driver, and the body is our car.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
August 30, 1997


 

A Mouthful

I put in my mouth two spoonfuls of rice
Though tried to chew, not more than twice
My mouth was too full for me to chew
I opened my mouth, some rice out flew;
Relieved of some load, I tried again
This time my attempt was not in vain.
Smaller morsels I could comfortably chew
Although this I knew, I did not do.

I was at my work later that same day
Looking at the load, I could only pray
I decided that doing so much work
Was like eating soup only with a fork;
I returned some work to my boss, undone
When back at my desk, my stress was gone,
Calmly, slowly, I then proceeded
In completing my work, that day succeeded.
Doing less work, I could easily do
Since I knew this, the overload away threw.

In the evening, sitting in my room
My mental files, my thoughts I needed to groom
There were too many, I could not resume
So I brushed away some, with my mental broom;
Then more relaxed, thinking one by one
I groomed my thoughts, until they were done.
Too many thoughts, only one mind too,
Throw away some, my mind would renew.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
June 25, 1997


Kiss Myself

I always thought if I could stay put
I could face myself, standing foot to foot
And then put my lips upon my own lips
And kiss myself, holding my own hips.
But alas I have never been able
To stay in one place calm and stable
To leave myself just long enough
And kiss myself, not even for a laugh.

We are always a moment too late
With ourselves to be able to mate
So in my mind there's no debate
If partnership is my fate
Sooner or later at any rate
My soul mate and I each other locate.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
June 25, 1997


 

Put & But

A child once asked, why do we pronounce "but" like "butt",
Yet when we say "put" it doesn't sound like "putt"?
Because after all, bat & pat, bet & pet, bit & pit
Sound just the same to me, like hit, knit, sit.
In all honesty I told that child I admit
There is no reason that to me appears fit,
My best answer, tongue in cheek and with wit,
Some one in the past decreed this holy writ;
Nobody since has dared to reform it one whit,
Else long ago, our load would've been alit.

Long ago, tradition, just like a heavy mist
Descended upon us by decree, or iron fist,
We today can easily write a lengthy list
That senselessly shackles everybody's wrist.
Though at first useful perhaps, tradition's gist
With time's passing, festered boil, a noxious cyst.
Inertia keeps us attached, reform resist
But in the end with any sense, we'll desist.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
July 12, 1997


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