Western Voices: Soodabeh Saeidnia

Soodabeh lives in Queens, NYC. She got her Pharm D and PhD of Pharmacognosy and has worked as a researcher, assistant and associate professor in the Kyoto University (Japan), TUMS (Iran) and University of Saskatchewan (Canada). She writes in English and Farsi. Her English poems have been published in different anthologies and literary magazines including Careless Embrace of the Boneshaker (GWFM), Squawk Back, Indiana Voice Journal, Sick Lit Magazine, Dying Dahlia Review, etc. She has authored and edited both scientific and poetry collections (https://www.amazon.com/s?field-keywords=soodabeh+saeidnia).

The last conversation

you come closer,
and I feel a hole
in this very cliche
beating in my chest

and the hole isn't
like a chamber
for pumping of
my blood

nor in the myocardium
to be detected

it's growing bigger
with every pulse
of your touch
without a trace of MI

should I open it with a crystal fondle?
you say, "well ..."

should I fill it with a handful of care?
you say, "no ..."

"but what if i get drenched
in the stream
and no one is aware of the leak,"

I said.

"what if I bury an orchid's seed
next to the hole
and it blooms to recover, to heal,"

you replied.

The Day Fishes Didn’t Swim Against the Current

Fishes drift downstream
and cast themselves
off the perilous edge
into a hexagon mold
within a hammerhead
shark's dream.

They do it each day, never stop;
never dream to swim upstream
as I, sat by the window,
watch them,
count down the moments of their witless lives
on the hanging rug my father gifted.

The Way Tsunami Is Pronounced

The way you pronounce "Soodabeh",
I feel I am the only autistic child of a woman
who has seven billion normal children.

I try to recall my name and pronounce it
just like you but I fail each time,
for there's no air in the atmosphere to wave my voice.

There is only microwave and gamma radiation
piercing each cell of my brain,
the way there is no sound communication in the space.

The way white killer whales reach out to each other in the ocean.

The way you pronounce my name,
a drill digs the flatland behind my ears
and goes directly down to the left ventricle.

The way I pronounce “tsu” in tsunami
or the way a tsunami might wash
the words of this poem.


  1. What beautiful poetry. Three grand slams. Doesn't get any better. Bravo to intelligent poetry!

  2. Thank you very much Danny for coming by to read and comment. I am really glad you enjoyed reading them.

  3. I liked the third poem very much! Enjoyed all the read.


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