I am Breathless I am Numb I am Mute I am a Homeless Mute I have no territory I belong to No where No one wants me NO one sees me I have no Identity My identity is imposed on me by my Jailor I am in bondage. My feet are locked my breath is taken away from Me. I am a grain of sand Under the Moon Under the Sun I do not exist. I AM NOTHING I am called a Zaifeh The weak One I am a Seigeh……..To Women OF AFGANESTAN , IRAN, and All Women in Bondage

UNDER THE THUMB AND TYRANNY OF PATRIARCHAL, RULE WHERE OUR VOICES ARE SILENCED BY THE MALE FIGURES IN OUR LIVES AND THEIR FEMALE ALLIES THERE IS ONLY SUFFOCATION AND THE EXILE OF THE SOUL. LETS REDEEM OUR DIGNITY.

JOIN ME MEN AND WOMEN IN LIBERATING OUR VOICE YOUR VOICE HER AND HIS VOICE AND THE VOICE OF THE FUTURE.

THIS IS AN ABSOLUTE DUTY…. OUR LEGACY

OUR SEXUALITY IS SO DORMANT IT IS A SCARY TERRITORY BECAUSE ABROO (OUR IMAGE) IS THE ADAMANT PERVERT WITHIN AND THE EYES OF SOCIETY POINT TO US BRUTALLY AND REMARK IGNORANTLY THAT WE R A BAD WE R SIMPLY BAD LETS LIBERATE OURSELVES and ALLOW OUR SEXUALITY TO BLOSSOM WAKE UP PERSIAN WOMEN & MEN.

zaman migozarad

mesel gaiegha roy daraya

y aramto ham miravi aram aram

zamani ba escheg

va zamni tohiaram

aram miravi be sooy takamol

Takamol ya 126 sal

Time sails like the sail boats on a serene sea

You sail as well quietly peacefully

You sail far at times with a heart filled with love sometime empty

You sail aram aram

Sail in the steps of Gods and Godesses

Find Your internal God or Godess

Remain eternal

Let the light in you spread for all

La lune a dit au soleil Brille sur moi

j’ai besoin de ta chaleur

Le soleil a répandu

Si je brille plus sur toi tu aura une blessure

La lune a répandu Et alors tu laissera ta marque ta chaleur en moi comme la bise de Rosée sur la Rose

Et la lune a supplié le soleil.

S’il te plaît brûle moi

You are 5 years old my love

You are 9 years old my love

Your eyes are to the horizon my love

Your feet are on the the burning gravels, cracks of Damesheg my love

Your golden braids loose in the firing winds of war my love

Your Soul broken in the wreckage of bombs my love

You Run I freeze,

I am cold and distant my love

A Snow White in her coffin my love

Mama Mama you call, Yr voice Yr echo awakens a beat in me , A breath my love

My heart pumps blood My soul reignites my love

I close my eyes I see an Oasis of Peace A Frontier A promise far away my love

I grab You with one hand squeeze You to my Chest heart My love…

I run I run I run in the desert in rain in wind through the Red Sea my love

I Run for You and me , for Me and You …, for US my Love…

I like to dedicate this to all the ORPHANS in the World. The ones that have been in an involuntary exile from their country and roots due to wars and to those ORPHANS who have been in Exile from their true Selfs due to Physical/Emotional and Sexual Abuse.My heart beats and belongs to All of them. HaPpy 2021.Dr. Helen Mahfar

There is the biggest most violent Court in You, Its Jury are the Satans. It tells You constantly that you are a mistake, that you make mistakes, that You are always late, that you have flaws, Y are short, You are pale, You are looser you are not rich, You are not accomplished ,You have a small penis and a big fat belly. You are too flat, You have no bosom. That Court will take You to Your Grave. Stop Self Abuse. Increase Self Esteem.

-Dr. Mah

LOVE IS A GARDEN OF ROSES IN BLOOM. TEND TO YOUR LOVE LOVE IS AN ENTITY OF ITS OWN BREATH LIFE INTO IT FILL IT WITH YOUR MUSIC AND YR FRAGRANCE AND WEATHER IT CHALLENGES WITH COURAGE TRANSPARENCY HONESTY EMPATHY AND COMPASSION. IT IS A JOURNEY, A NEW BEGINNING A NEW CHAPTER. ENJOY ITS MEADOS ITS HILLS AND VALLEYs AND ALLOW YOUR ROSES TO ALWAYS BLOOM.

-DR. HELEN MAH

She wears a mask

the mask of corona

she wears a mask a mask of Abroo(image)

She wears a mask

A mask of Chastity

She wears a mask

A mask of rigidity

she wears a mask

A mask of Silence

She wears a mask

A mask of Farhang

(culture)She wears a Mask

A mask of right or wrong

She wears a Mask

The mask of her community

She wears a mask

A mask of her family

She covers her whole being

masks on her voice,

her eyes ears hands on her sense of smell

She wears a mask on all her senses a mask of no feeling

Beneath the masks there is no one there is nothing not a grain of sand on the footsteps of a child beneath the masks there are no shores no breeze no sea no roses

Nothingness is in the Land WHICH ONE IS MORE DEADLY THE CORONA MASK OF THE ABOVETHIS IS THE LEGACY OF THE PATRIARCHY THE MASKS –

DR. HELEN MAH