For the Persians of the Final Revolution

A sign reads "SAY HER NAME: MAHSA AMINI" sitting next to a large posterboard filled with the photos of 25 Iranians who have recently been murdered during the protests. A smattering of 100 tea light candles casts a glow amidst splattered melted wax, many of the candles exhausted.

We saw it all with you

Wailing behind a photo of her son

The only necessary proof

Hurling wild hair

Shining in Tehrani sun on paled scalps

Clutched in fistfulls pouring over gravesides

Splotched in shockingly bright red blood on white tunics

Casually eating her last breakfast on a silver platter

Unterrified before jail

Singing his detainment song quietly in a room

Chanting it over and over again in mass polyphony

In the gardens of Shiraz

Bodies are flailed to the curb

Kicked in the chest

Shot like trash

Black throngs chasing away little scurrying police brigades

With sticks and bricks and

A deafening unified voice


Gunshots and loud resolve

Ringing out across dark courtyards and balconies all night

We are here

We are alive

You killed them

We are not giving up

Standing on teachers’ desks and old building facades

Ripping down stained old framed old grey ayatollahs

Tearing out their black eyes

Death to the dictator

Call him Terrorist

Hoping the heavy hands of evil hurt

Two-faced or three-faced at least

Many faces twice dead in shredded trampled remnants

Like trash

Unflappable unsilenceable undeterred unarmed

Fires taking flight from golden heads and songs

All those sneaking global agent immigrants

Flung by violence oppression death war

Across all borders

To countless lands flirting with liberation

Forever blood-stained and shell-shook

Wearing tight tailored little flag pieces

Where no one can touch them anymore

Together crying tears for home

But her mom hasn’t answered the phone in three days

No one knows that that means

Watching blackness fill the sky

But then the world started to spin faster

As the sun pierced twirling chadors and hijabs

Charred hearts and prison walls

Filling up her voices

Sun-drenched faces

All of them screamed at once

They never stopped

Because the moon kept echoing back

Roaring like an old reincarnated lion:






I am Mahsa, I am Leyla, I am Irooni, I am Kurdistani, I am Tehrani, I am Isfahani, I am Rashti, I am Shirazi, I am Kermani, I am Tabrizi, I am Karaji, I am Mashhadi, I am Orumiehi, I am Kermanshahi, I am Ahvazi, I am Qomi, I am Azerbaijani, I am Golestani, I am Marivani

4 responses to “For the Persians of the Final Revolution

  1. Beautiful tribute to the women fighting for equal rights and those that lost their rights fighting.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks so much for reading and for your support.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re very welcome.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. […] these apparently accidental dating encounters were immigrants with families still living through a revolution in Iran, a religious refugee, children of immigrants, a bilateral mastectomy, a complete hysterectomy (she […]


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: