Distance relative

By ‘Othello’ Tunnels,

Not that of Shakespeare,

In trance, watch the river,

Water runs and the stones,

Are kind of half-immersed.

I went, took some pictures,

Then packed tools,

Walked around on the earth.

Earth and I were friends,

She felt like my mother!

On some rock, sat silent,

And stared at the waves,

Saw many varied curves,

Around the rocks,

And elsewhere…

I felt I was a bird,

I felt I was a rock,

I felt I was water.

I was all,

I was none.

For the artist, a brush,

For canvas, I was love.

I felt like louvre-Shahyad,

The paintings on the walls,

Of my heart, and my mind.

I recalled my childhood,

Esfahan’s Zayandeh Rud

Then Vineh and Jajrood…

With mountains all around,

With a clean blue sky,

With many autumn leaves,

I observed a painting…

Why? Why? Why?

I saw why turning what?

Then, where, when,

And then how?

How I wish others saw,

I wish it were answered,

Sadly though, it was not!

How I wish never came!

Let’s look at examples,

Let us see the El Che!

He, being communist?

What for? Why? 

Why? Why? Why?

Look at his trip on,

A cheap and childish bike,

To get work, went to a mine,

Disrespect…

The island with patients,

Leprosy, abandoned,

He asked why.

UFC and allies,

USA and the wars,

Their puppets…

Now, here, the second,

Do we see the drugs?

Do we ask the question:

Why? Why? Why?

What about the addicts?

The makers to supply?

Study with the Why?

Being one, lone ‘Not us!’

I was there, with them, all,

If not the core and central.

Theirs Green and blue eyes,

And hairs were Red, blonde,

Salt-Pepper, Hazels, mine… 

Muslim-born, from far

I have come,

Elderly, no more a child.

I’ve crossed the borders,

Of the lands, souls, cultures,

I see us as sisters and brothers.

They were mine, I was theirs,

They are mine; I am theirs.

That made me the core central.

Brian had arranged,

Birthday to celebrate,

Sugar Mom’s 70-Year.

I mingled, we had fun, 

Danced and talked,

I enjoyed Pam’s Cezar!

On one side I had him,

(My distance- relative,

Born in the Nev Sari.)

Other side were addicts,

(Poor victims,

Cantonese and Chinese.)

Selected, there I was:

“You, listen, hear, judge,

Be conscious, have a heart.”

Intervened shared blood,

How could I? How could I?

Long ago, in the old days,

We gathered and prayed:

“Zarathustra, our leader...”

Later, when Arabs came,

To be safe, we parted, 

My parents converted,

But not his, they escaped.

Both of us, long after,

Encountered Britain.

He became a Baronet,

But I am against them.

Difficult is judgment!

Difficult is judgment!

He helped ‘East India,’

And followed the royals:

“Regardless of who, how, 

Kill and loot, colonize!”

How can I be the judge?

I love Jesus, Gibran’s:

“Conquer but with love.”

Want to write like “Plumbs,”

Of Carlos Williams.

How many?

What went on?

Have plants in my yard,

Cucumber, zucchini, squash,

Mint, jalapeno, and so on…

Plant of tomato,

Turned yellow,

I felt dumb…

Kept asking:

“What went wrong?”

In my hand pruner,

Walked as if executer,

Cut some leaves to trim.

There, I heard a shrub,

Sighed and subbed!

“You, selfish,”

Said fences, 

And spooks!

I had set,

A thread

To direct!

Leaves lost life,

When observed, 

Noose around! 

Said the falling tears:

“You, selfish human,

You killer in action, 

You tied it on my neck,

You stopped the water!” 

On my way,

Morning time,

Saw workers,

Of Punjab,

Men, women,

Old and young.

Saw plants,

Of berries,

Blueberry, 

Raspberry.

Saw plants,

Like soldiers,

All lined up, 

Set to march. 

On return,

Two machines,

Mexicans,

And baskets.

Machine picked?

Or Handpicked?

Asked sellers,

Some ladies!

I questioned,

That and this,

And did learn,

Researching!

Money goes to dealers,

Not workers, laborers,

Not needy or orphans!

Yes, this is everywhere,

With police, governments, 

Synagogues and Churches, 

To Mosques and preachers!

Soon, want to wear my shoes,

On my head, and my hat…

You can laugh…

You can laugh…

As my shoes!!!

Soon, want to take my nose,

And put it in my pants…

You can laugh…

You can laugh…

To replace genitalia!!!

Then reverse!

And reverse!

Did you know?

Colonialists,

If ever captured king, 

Or any prophet, 

Enslaved,

Called: “Pagans?”

Vatican and Spain,

Sweden, Britain,

And Holland,

To France and Norway,

Lost thrones are fallen,

Like Greece and Perse!

We know of the crowns,

And Czars, and Royals,

Collapsing to be ground,

For New, to walk on.

Why not wear trousers,

As a jacket, and a shirt,  

As cover for the legs?

Observe the bumble bees,

Fat, chubby, and lazy, 

Quiet, slowly, flying, 

Penetrate flowers, circling.

They repeat the same thing,

With bushes, more trees,

Feel amazed, keep thinking.

“This is called pollination,

They do what do the pimps,

Matchmakers; matchmaking.”

With more time,

Revisit and revise:

“This is a miracle,

Creator? Or nature?”

You name it whatever!

This is not man, science!

It has been forever…

Forever and ever…

Doubtlessly is great,

Must praise miracles!

We, selfish, humans,

Are the bags of nonsense, 

Or are filled with science,

Narcissists do claim!

What are we?

What the heck?

Recorders, internet,

And AI, and others,

Are nothing but infants,

Whenever, if compared,

With galaxies, oceans!

  Wonder why some wonder:

“You? Hating the USA?” 

Here is my answer:

“Devil is in the detail!”

As soon as came Reagan,

Declared war against us.

Amassed jets, tanks, and guns,

Used some fool named Saddam.

Saudi, USA, and allies,

Added to what Russia,

Had given to Iraq…

Bombs and shells,

Killed! Injured!

Who made them?

Who were the murderers?

Who was the main leader?

Saudi was only a puppet!!

If honest with wisdom

No need to go further,

Let’s step on the brake!

The papers, media,

Talk to youths in Iran,

And find them at a loss.

Many lost some friends,

In haze live men, women,

Have lost hope, interest,

For fighting but can’t rest!

USA meant Reagan,

He came and injected,

In our veins and brains, 

The worst of poisons! 

Listening to Wagner

Read Wagner.

Germany,

Italy,

And Russia,

And Ukraine,

Pentagon, USA!

Enjoying music

Lose laughter,

Shed tears.

What the hell!

What the hell?

What the hell??

The questions

Hit the wall and return.

Ouch, it hurts!

Ouch, it hurts!!

Ouch, it hurts!!!

 They want me to join them:

“Be one of our members.”

I didn’t say a word,

In silence, with motion

Said: “Never, not, ever!”

Die for wealth or power?

Live lavish, and spend?

For inside underwear?

“No, no, no, not ever!”

“No, no, no, not ever!”

“No, no, no, not ever!”

As the child of mountains,

And kidnapped on oceans,

Went through large flames,

From toes to the head…

Saw fire everywhere,

All over, each corner!

“So, never, not ever!” 

“So, never, not ever!”

“So, never, not ever!” 

No, cannot, will not sell,

The warm heart, a blessed,

For mankind, with kindness. 

“No, no, no, not ever!”

“No, no, no, not ever!”

“No, no, no, not ever!”

Can’t join you for power,

And not for wealth’s sake.

“No, no, no, not ever!”

“No, no, no, not ever!”

“No, no, no, not ever!”

Let me be and remain,

Poor rebel, for justice.

Driving to the west

On Zero Avenue

Saw deer confused!

Ran across,

Then stopped,

Faced a fence,

And returned!

In those eyes

Two stars

And whirlpool!

Froze foot on the break,

Calm, silent, I observed,

Thought of me as a deer!

“I found her,

Talked, chatted,

Sang love songs.”

“She confirmed,

On fire to join her,

Hit a wall of metal, 

Screened are fences!”

“She remained as did I,

between us was a wall!”

What the hell is this life?

What the hell is mankind?

Those with shops, media,

Full of lies, just show off, 

Pretend when they shout:

“Polar bears and the fox,

Elephant, Grizzly, gorilla,

The whales, seal creatures,

Large condors and eagles,

Have decreased in number!”

Homayun,

I heard you,

Like many,

(Unlike fools,)

Reject books

Of the Jews…

Confirm it?

Some call you:

“Imāniš…”

Do agree?

But some say:

“Was a devil!”

Really?

I believe,

You were right,

We need peace:

“Get rid of the evil.”

But sadly, Evil writes,

Erases old, ancient,

Then rewrites!

Evils have piles of lies,

Both old and new ones!

Their murders, genocides,

Are somehow,

Blamed on the poor God!

Shamelessly they claim,

They follow God’s order:

“We saw him in visions,

His orders to Moses,

Abraham, and others,

Was cleaning this filth!”

Here, I sit to write,

To write well, read a lot.

Stories,

Poetries,

You name it!

At times I feel great,

But mostly, feel little.

What is it that I want?

Do I seek a prize?

Or is it for my kids?

For a world, in coming?

Good and bad around me?

For Arabs? Israel?

For deprived?

Orphaned kids?

Buffalo or the fish?

For nature?

Lush green?

Or cement?

Concrete?

Feel like a volcano…

Must spew…

My lava is burning!

I talked with a friend,

Ex-colleague,

A Shiite, Lebanese…

“Peace and health,

Is our need…”

He told me.

Nothing more,

That was it…

Nothing more,

That was it…

Nothing more,

That was it…

He said less,

I got more…

“US Bombed…”

I could read:

"Christians,

Not Muslims,

Murdered 

Jews,

As killers,

Betrayers…"

Helplessly,

Complained:

“Injustice,

Injustice,

Injustice!”

“The rulers…”

Guess I heard:

“Did wrong then,

And again,

Do the same!”

He lies as his book does,

Which Moses?

Abraham?

These fictions are all lies,

For one sake, brainwash!!!

These racists always say:

“We are God’s children,

His best and favorites,

As rulers, his chosen.”

I do not believe them,

Their heroes are devils,

They oppress all others!

And if once…

Only once…

Feel burning,

Feel a bite…

They cry like showers:

“We suffer for others,

We brought milk, sugar,

To feed poor children,

Were ambushed,

By darkness…”

But they are spiders,

Their webs are spread,

They are leeches, vultures,

They are foxes, jackals,

Have their show, pretend,

Use shrines like churches!

Which Moses?

Abraham?

It is time for science,

To bury fictitious,

Heroes of these liars! 

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I have come from there,

Brought you a message.

To visit Chief Big Bear,

I went to Frog Lake,

He was sharp and fresh.

Talks ended, came silence,

He approached a deathbed,

Yes, he went to deathbed!

I whispered slogans:

“An Eighteen-Eighty-Five,

Is needed, Natives Rise…” 

His eyes were fixed on me:

“Use your pens and brain,

Do not kill, don’t murder…” 

I recall the old days,

Desires, and Male-gaze, 

Seeing knees and ankles, 

Pleasing, like good sex!

Now, today, on the way,

When I see the ankles,

Study their footwear,

Plastic, all of them!

Everywhere, articles 

Explain the carbon,

As fuel for the cars,

Or a ship sailing on.

Let us see what we wear.

With her head on my arm,

We enjoy lying down,

To observe that outside,

Secretly, in the fog,

The waves dance,

They dance waltz…

The stage on the lake,

Presents a ballet,

With the fish’s nibbles.

The trees on the heights, 

Request the skies,

Begging for the sunshine.

She and I toss and roll,

Until we fall asleep,

Dreaming for filming,

These great sceneries.

“Soundtrack?” I ask her,

“Miracle of the waves.”

Felt the chill of morning, 

A knight rode the breeze!

I stood consciously,

And observed silently!

Saw a wasp,

Photographed.

Quite weak its motions,

To survive, struggled.

Felt it was all in vain!

Is it gone? Still there?

Smashed it a dog’s paw,

Then the shoe of a child,

And a wheel of walker! 

Unaware of later, 

Wonder if it is dead!

What is life?

What is fate?

Are we not all the same?

Even if not Cannon, 

Proverb, is great:

“When breaks clay pot,

Its yoghurt spreads,

Enjoy it, boot lickers!”

Festival like yoghurt,

Was inside the fences

Those outside, spread,

Were on roads to play,

Their guitars, violins.

Here, in Canada,

Most Chinese are wealthy!

Where from? How made it?

Off Mao and his team?

But being a Chinese,

Is not a guarantee,

For being filthy-rich!

She is fully covered,

She collects cans, bottles!

For herself?

To pay debt?

The debt for, escaping?

From zoo to end in,

The cage of one percent?

For sake of future?

My questions are endless! 

The tears,

If ignored,

Activate,

The bullets!

In the heat of the sun,

I honed on, a woman, bike, a dog.

Poor my nose, ears, eyes,

They witnessed what went on.

Nose absorbed the stench,

Ears heard dog’s breaths,

Eyes observed a deranged.

She, her hair and clothes,

Talked without any voice.

She had kissed the world, bye,

Did not care for the laws…

Was free of all bounds,

Thanks to use of drugs.

I felt sad for the dog,

Thin like hair, bones a lot.

But she, stinking master,

Watered the dog by bucket…

Angry I was, yet,

Admired her kindness. 

Said to me September:

“I brought you a guest.”

I stood and observed,

On stage, saw ballet. 

Looked at leaves,

Fall, fallen…

They carried a message:

“Best color is in death.”

I smiled: “My honor,

Is having such a guest.”

Wrote a song in silence:

“Welcome; Come closer, 

You, autumn, or the Fall,

To my house, my Sarai.” 

She, once was,

Princess…

Daughter of,

African,

Dictator…

Their land was divided,

Occupied by others,

Colonized to the end…

Libya became a,

Gourmet for,

Ghaddafi…

The rest is history!

Came Arabs’ Spring!

Taliban, Iraq’s wars,

And changes…

Like before,

Empires,

Rose and fell!

Poor people,

Poor nations,

In whirlwinds!

Life got tough,

Those blind,

Were tranced,

Sought the past!

Princes Resurface,

March forward,

Charlatans:

“My devoted father,

Served you,

Was our savior,

So will I if return.”

I met him on the plane,

We chatted as neighbors,

His name and religion,

Were very clear:

“You two are brothers.”

But are we?

He follows Zarathushtra,

By force, I converted.

He was raised in Mumbai,

Speaks in the tongues of,

Indians, India, but not I…

He is too close to,

The London’s politics,

But not I, not at all…

Then,

Are we brothers?

He came to my place,

I met him as his guest.

Going deep into time,

We share the same blood,

We are one, heart-to-heart.

The rulers of shrines,

Politicians, political,

Used their tongues,

Swords and guns,

And cut us into parts.

He and I smoked, dined,

We brought past to now,

So, listen to me shout:

“Let’s break all the walls,

Let’s shatter every bar,

Once again let’s unite.”

You call me what you want:

“A racist, Semitist, or anti!”

Whatever, whatever, whatever,

I cannot, I cannot, I cannot…

I cannot sit idle,

To the guns and bullets,

To bombing and murder, 

To disease and sickness,

Of the poor children,

All because one corrupt,

A liar hypocrite,

Claims with programs:

“We fight the terrorists!”

He is just fooling us,

He fears honest judge,

Exactly like Trump!

He knows it very well,

During peace, justice,

Will issue a warrant:

“PM must go to jail.”

Therefore, he gives orders:

“Kill and rape, regardless,

Torture those arrested…”

If ever the war ends,

Many of the soldiers,

Innocent boys and girls,

Those drafted victims, 

Will end in hospitals.

PTSD comes from,

Seeing the body parts,

Or shedding the blood,

Witnessing a homeless,

Hungry and dispersed,

Thanks to the dictators!

Far ahead,

At distance,

I stare…

But what for?

I was fooled,

By mirage,

By ashes!

Feel the pain,

Walking on the fire,

Shrapnel and needles!

In the pain,

I forget!

What was I,

Looking for?

I dance as do Sufis,

Filled with love,

Psychedelic!

Why?

Finally, I know me,

Feel the fish in the sea.

I broke most cages,

Left behind trenches,

And ignored the castles. 

Found myself,

Have crossed the borders,

Around me are nations,

And anthems, and cultures!

Found myself,

Found myself,

Found myself.

Head in the sand, unaware,

Among them, one of them,

I wish I could be there,

Like Rumi’s,

Ant on leaf, on water,

Touching an elephant,

Fight over the grape,

A woman-donkey-death!

I wish I could be there,

I wish I could be there,

I wish I could be there.

I received a message:

“Hi and bye…

Heading for pilgrimage,

Karbala…”

Want to hate but cannot,

They are of my blood.

They are caged,

Brainwashed,

By mullahs.

Damn, mullahs!

Damn, mullahs!

These devils,

Have killed faith!

As well as, 

Forgiveness, 

And kindness, 

And trust,

And Khoda,

And Allah!

I look for,

A Martin,

A Luther, 

A hero.

Let us write a letter,

For the gate,

Of the mosque:

“Death to Ayatollah!”

She, on the radio:

“Was virgin,

For many, many years,

Never told my friends,

Was ashamed,

Not had been desired!”

I smile,

On my mind:

“Past novels, stories,

Spoke high of virgins,

They were most desired.”

Then I think:

“Is she hers?

Or others?”

And close,

The chapter!  

Many souls,

Men, women,

Children,

And pet dogs,

Saw ‘Pride!’

A few,

were in masks,

Blue Jay,

Dogs and cats…

I wondered:

“What is that?”

Went and asked!

‘Dog Mask’ said:

“As I can explain,

‘It is Escapism!” 

Today I,

Went to see, 

A Pride-policy.

All ages,

All colors,

All genders.

In me boiled,

One question:

“Who are they?”

A mother of my age,

Drove in her daughter,

Aloof girl with shyness.

Mother was full of care,

For her autist daughter,

What can do a mother?

The T-shirts came in pink,

To reject bullying:

“All, welcome and join in.”

Hey, Trump and JD:

“Shut up and say nothing,

About those with such needs!”

Red is light,

I stop,

Look at her,

Empathize!

She is old,

Hat, she wears,

Has no hair,

Has she shaved?

No breast,

Nothing there,

In my sight,

Her bra…

I question:

“For fashion?”

For many days and nights,

Possibly, many months,

I meant to,

Could not write!

He is sick, has cancer,

Cureless, faces death!

For how long?

No answer!

Therefore, he,

Has become an actor,

He shows off, pretends.

His parents, unaware,

Siblings, unaware,

Plays and hides away:

“Thank you, all is well!”

But is not,

Firmly has decided,

Wrote a play to direct, 

On stage of the theatre!

He told me and we met:

“My uncle and friend, 

Please be the witness,

My will and my wishes, 

Are legal and written,

Everything goes to her,

No tomb and no grave,

No whining, no tears,

Simply cremate!”

Wants to be forgotten,

Like sunrise to sunset!

He deserves an Oscar!

He deserves an Oscar!

He deserves an Oscar!

Were we then two friends?

He fed me and we walked,

He owned me as his dog.

But, no more…

Now we are enemies…

I, as a wolf,

Am homeless, hungry,

And always on the run!

I am marked:

“Is a beast,

Terrorist,

And

Savage…”

And many,

Many more…

Redacted is one word:

“Is free, on his own!”

Today we, once again,

Joined to work together.

His long hair unbundled,

Was curly around the neck,

Sincere, his comment:

“You, Gandhi, reincarnated.”

I have had a rich life,

In action, long in time.

Some hear and suspect, 

Some adore and respect.

Helpless, he made a call, 

It was long after the job, 

I was back in no time… 

Yes, this is how we are!

“Can I pay for the fuel?”

I replied: "No! at all…"

I told him of Ernest,

And Chaco’s bike rider:

“They gave me new life,

Selflessly, were too kind,

This is what I pay them,

I follow their trend,

Roll sleeves to give help.” 

From now Josh will talk:

"Give a hand and be nice.

Improve the  social life."

Some may call it Karma,

Some say, Lord, Yahweh,

And some, God, or Allah,

Some give it other names,

All of these mean the same.

Such loans need settlement. 

Lewis, I,

We spoke…

It was hard,

Staring,

In his eyes!

He is heir,

Britain’s…

Quite well-traveled,

Visited museums…

Feels ashamed:

“We, the worst!”

He, before Canada,

Visited Australia,

Africa, to Ethiopia.

“We looted,

And stole,

Broke bonds,

Enslaved…

…filled cases,

Museums,

With their bones…”

Lowered eyes,

Straight at his toe:

“…we claimed,

White is Wise…”

Then Lewis,

Took shovel,

Joined the rest:

“They? Or us,

Is truly Savage?”

No more words!

Tomorrow, choose a time,

Get dressed and go out,

Walk and find a haven,

A creek, some river…

Or maybe, beach, or lake,

Can be sea or ocean…

Or a forest, jungle,

Or a park, or even,

A landfill, anywhere.

Squat, sit idle,

Let your eyes do the rest,

Watch the birds.

Look at the wings, feathers,

Their flights, right and left,

Up and down, maneuvers.

They amuse, are great,

Some flap, some glide,

Or a mix, or somehow,

…, …, …,

Then return, shut your eyes,

Remember what went on.

USAID is in sight,

Of the US murals.

The people dead, injured,

With the holes of bullets,

On the run and homeless

Thanks to bully-bombers.

The sheepskin wearer

Has the wolf’s desire,

To impose its power,

Only to take revenge.

See Sudan, Africa,

Americas, Palestine, 

Refugees all around. 

Demolished are houses,

On the run are people,

From guns and soldiers,

Also tanks and bombers,

Without food, in hunger,

The news choked, silent!

But many hundreds

Of TVs, and papers,

Reflect a ‘Golden Hair,’

Getting injured, wounded!

Tsunami kills the world:

“He, the Ex-President!!!”

I call such governments:

“The shameless dragons,

Vampires and leeches!”

They live on our taxes,

We, the working people,

Pay with pores in sweat, 

They party with friends!

Hope that you remember,

You called them savages,

For painting their faces,

And pierce on the chests.

Now you are a canvas,

Pierce is everywhere,

Eyebrows to noses,

Down to the clitoris.

Now, are you a savage?

Well, friends,

Think again!

Maybe there,

Far, near,

In the light,

Or darkness,

I was born,

A slave!

Parents too,

Were slaves!

They were,

Forced,

Converted,

By axes,

To the faith,

Of masters!

They lived in, 

Stables as cages,

Called it “Home,”

Made borders,

And nations!

Maybe I,

Was bundled, 

And then sent,

On the beak,

Of a bird!

Was I born, 

In a nest,

On the land,

In the water,

In a curvy river,

On a branch, 

By mountains?

Opened eyes,

In the cave?

In the light?

In darkness?

Was I born?

Like a bat?

Dragon?

Vampire?

A condor?

A vulture?

Who am I?

Who was then?

Who made me?

What purpose?

Can we find,

An answer,

A reason?

Am I not,

A particle,

In the dust,

In the clouds,

Less than fog,

Feel worthless!

Will ever,

I learn what,

I learn why,

I learn how,

And for what?

On the wing,

Of the wind,

Go around,

One circle!

Nihilism?

Nothingness?

The questions,

Add darkness,

Have always, 

They torture,

Consciousness!  

I stood and stared,

At Robin’s copper chest,

Pictured its blue eggs,

A few, hatched, chickens.

With great wings and tail,

Observed the right and left,

When it found me harmless,

Jugged and went right ahead.

Then stopped, raised its head,

A message? Received? Sent?

And repeated the same,

Many times, and again!

Finally dipped its beak,

Used it as a sharp pick, 

Dug into the grass, and 

It repeated until…

Found the prey in hiding,

Sharpshooter smartly,

Held a worm in winding,

Robin left me thinking:

What is life?

You tell me,

To be born?

Then dying?

Next prey?

The robin?

Who eats it?

And its chicks?

No reply came to me,

I whispered in silence:

“I find it beyond me!”

Disagree with science’s logic!

I enjoy getting lost in the myths!

Both groups had feathers,

Can I call them cousins?

At my job, I observed,

Some crows, and eagles.

First, flew, hopped, and sat,

Both alone, and in mass.

On garbage, in the trash,

On the wall, on a branch,

In the yards, plain lands…

The second flew high,

They circled in the sky.

I stood silently,

My jaw fell, kept looking,

Full of joy, was pleased.

The crows, suspicious,

And proud were eagles.

Saw crows picking junk,

But eagles waited long.

At the end, one of them,

Descended like a plane.

In no time, it climbed,

I felt shocked, surprised,

It had a fish in its claws.

The prey, fresh, alive,

Kept fighting for its life,

It struggled with all might.

Felt bubbles in my veins, 

My questions unanswered:

“Can one be right, or wrong?

Seeking a life? Wanting pride?”

I was in Staples,

They received,

My papers.

Then asked me:

“Sign here,

‘Staples is free,

Is not responsible,

If anything happens!’”

The poor things,

Need the job,

Work, labor,

Dig graves,

For others,

And themselves,

Just to serve,

Their masters!!!

They remain,

Unaware,

The masters,

Are vultures,

Though smile,

Foxy wait,

And plan,

To milk the,

Customers!

In your life,

Be honest,

Think again.

Do not sell,

Your friends,

Or any client.

The masters,

Are foxes,

Are vultures,

Vampires…

I wish I was a goose,

With feather,

Could fly in the air,

And swim in the water,

And slouch on the earth.  

Want to sharpen my pen,

Then use it as a dagger,

Let me be the first victim!

Am tired,

Am ashamed,

Silence is a partner,

To crimes taking place,

No more can sit idle,

I have sharpened my pen,

And will fight to the death!

Joan Baez, Bob Dylan.

Singers of Woodstock,

Students on campuses,

Let us rise, rise again.

Filled my pen with blood,

Poisoned and topped up,

As we won the sixties,

Can repeat that indeed,

With no to the White House, 

We helped save Vietnam.

Yes, true, I am old,

On current I am cork,

But still, have my pen, 

And the lion roars again.

Yes, enough is enough,

Silence the bullet-bomb,

Let us sing, let us dance,

Repeat the John Lennon’s:

“Imagine there’s no heaven,

People are living for today.”

I do shout and will shout:

“Down with the corruptions,

And those who sell weapons,

To the mean and evil dictators.” 

Early in the morning,

Laborers were working,

Arrived a car, the police,

A short sound of a siren,

Made me pay attention,

To some tents erected.

The tenants were homeless,

Must have been well aware,

Of the laws’ enforcement…

Reached out for camera,

Took a few photographs,

Men, women, did, did not,

Care for the police-laws,

Were slow like currents,

Behind a dam or a curve.

Far beyond two hours,

Took them till went away.

The homeless didn’t care,

For the time and place.

In their eyes, their faces:

“Wonder why am here?

Well, there is a reason,

That is, you, you people,

Yes, you who never care,

For me, call us worthless!”

I stood and observed,

Their motion, behavior,

Their lagging reactions. 

Boiled blood in my veins,

Like a kettle with bubbles,

Felt my nerves unsettled,

Pains grew in my neck, 

So, whispered in silence:

“Can we expect respect?”  

No one is worse to Trump than Trump,

He threw his friends under the bus,

Now he must pay the price…

Quite lost, lost, I feel,

When hear Anti-Semitic, 

Know anti, so, no need,

Search for the latter piece.

Being sweet or bitter,

Must go on with research.

Semitic people or the Semites,

Have roots in Africa, Ethiopia,

And to some, the Middle East, 

Akkadians, and Phoenicians,

Including Arabs, and Jews. 

So, what is hate speech?

What is this ownership?

Only by one of these?

I, neither am Arab,

Nor Phoenician,

Or Akkadian!

I, a simple person,

In love with beauty,

Kindness and equality,

Am against insulting,

Injustice, cruelty,

As well as depriving,

The Arab, Phoenician,

Even the Akkadians,

From their ownership,

Of being Semitic.

Therefore, as I can see,

Being Anti-Semitic,

Includes hate-speech,

Against the Palestinians.

Students, youngsters,

All around the universe,

I am with you, let’s speak.

Dan called me with the news:

“Had a deal and pleaded guilty!”

It was all about Jim,

“Has lost right to drive,

Curfewed and confined,

Total of eighteen months!”

“But he is innocent…”

I mentioned, then silenced.

I know what has happened,

Politicians, Governments,

These ugly mean devils,

Pocket good salaries,

And enjoy positions,

But soldiers,

Poor soldiers,

Mostly young,

Some elders,

Are ordered, sent to war,

Kill, injure, or reverse…

If ever they return,

In a body of some shape,

Come without the brain,

Memories perpetuate,

Then, doctors, hospitals,

Check on the trauma:

“War’s effect!”

Jim looks well,

Six feet tall,

And above,

Good looking…

He cannot leave his house,

Just because of the war,

Collapsed the USSR,

And broke Yugoslavia,

Jim was sent to stop genocide!

“Wander? Yes! But not lost…”

Said the tattoo on her arm.

So great, short, concise,

Sounds like the prophets.  

Yesterday, Saturday,

The Apr twentieth,

I worked long,

For two-thirds of the day,

Drove for two hours.

Bear in mind my life, age,

Close to four decades,

Among the seniors,

Many say: “Retire,”

My answer is simple:

“Retarded retires!”

I believe a person,

Has body and brain,

As one and separate,

Both must work,

Should be fed,

The result is simple,

Live healthy forever.

Yesterday was a sample.

The soles of my feet hurt,

Are burning with the pain,

Thanks to those long hours.

And I talk with my feet:

“Better to be in pain,

Than lying sick in bed,

Or being in the hands of,

Some sort of caretaker,

Who wishes that you die,

And gets his, or her hand,

On what is left for heirs.

Anyway…

I was told the job is: 

“Khalsa,” but were wrong,

Sikhs called it ‘Vaisakhi.’

I, as a graduate in cultures,

Had arrived with questions,

Asked many in their tongue,

(Even if not perfect.)

Most of Sikhs shied away,

Were aloof, unaware,

Some gave me more details.

Had a camera, its lens long, 

When I could, went around,

Joked with them and nicely,

Constantly asked questions.

Saw their eyes, their faces,

Talk of me, my accent,

As if they admired:

“Who are you? 

You speak in our language?”

Of course, I do confess,

Yes, I have selfishness,

Enjoyed the compliments.

Learned little about both,

The Vaisakhi, and Khalsa,

But neither was enough… 

I was born near them,

Therefore, see the cultures,

Of Iran, India,

To Turkey and Iraq,

Central Asia…

I enjoy all of them,

Easily can feel them,

Same parents’ children,

Look-alikes, different!

Parents died and faded,

Their heirs or children,

Pruned the old cultures. 

Had gone with my lights on,

And returned with lights on.

On my way listened to,

Billions of Dollars,

For Taiwan, Israel,

And Ukraine!

Who can be the payers?

Whose money?

And what is the purpose?

Kept thinking about it:

“I work hard, pay taxes,

Some people, or devils,

Some dirty politicians

Holding chairs, positions,

Are the vultures, leeches,

In castles, palaces,

On islands far away,

They use my foolishness,

Behave as if generous,

Not for a good purpose,

Not to help an injured,

Not to for un-prosperous,

Not to add to comfort,

Of women, children,

Not roof for displaced,

Eradicating disasters,

But total, in reverse,

They invest in murder,

Genocide, bloodshed,

Expand the armaments,

Support the arms makers,

Cause the wars to access,

Always, in most chances,

To support each other,

Think about the UN,

Without and with Pekin,

Who brought the changes?

Think of Paks, the Afghans,

Then the war in Ukraine!!!”

We live in Canada,

Are perfect in the talks,

And avoid working hard,

We talk and, talk and talk!

Here, in Canada,

A large dish for a bite, 

The décor well-designed.

Let’s listen to the talks:

“I worked and he did too,

As did the girl you liked!”

We live in Canada,

Paperwork is too much,

We follow the bureaucrats!

Though we are far advanced,

We seem to go right back,

To when ruled the autocrats.

Then, rulers and owners,

Of the time pretended,

Loyalty and respect.

“Fool the King, 

His kingdom,”

Was the rule,

Of the game!

To pay the price of a plot, 

You had to learn to bow,

Or marry the daughter of,

A person who had bowed.

“Of course, your Majesty,

You own the oceans, seas,

And the Earth, everything.”

We are heirs, and received,

Blabber, bootlicking…

Life is not only the,

Being air-carrier,

Inhaling to exhale.

Life is far beyond it,

Having heart,

Hands, legs, feet.

Not only to pick,

Walk,

Circulate the blood.

Life can be explained,

In many variants,

Colors; races, genders.

Life is like a painting,

The sky and ocean,

Captured on a canvas.

Life is so vast that I,

Can never cover all,

Like a kind criminal.

What is life?

What is life?

What is life?

This puzzle,

Is unsolved!

Read Rumi and Khayyam,

Read Hitler and Cezar,

To reach Jean Paul Sartre!

Tick marking the crimes,

Makes laser, focused light,

That shows us many names,

All Rabbis, Popes, mullahs,

What can be this living?

Air in-out, breathing?

Have you heard:

“He melted,”

About a human?

Won’t you ask:

“Who? Where? Why?”

And ‘Whom?’ ‘How?’ 

When? What cause? 

He said so,

A soldier,

Peacemaker!

It was in Bosnia,

This is what he has done,

On alert, walked around,

With peer, machineguns!

Exact words of soldier:

“We shot him, he melted!”

Was brave, risked his life,

Became active soldier,

For saving the defenseless.

In front, not too far,

Someone had scrolled.

Peacekeepers got scared,

Thought of him as a rebel,

With a gun to kill them!

Therefore, they acted first,

And this is what happened:

“We shot him, he melted!”

Too rich with compassion, 

Matching mines, treasures, 

Committed some murders:

“We shot him, he melted!”

Wonder where to start,

Whom from?

The Khakham?

Or mullahs?

Or Abram?

All liars, all Kadhdhbas!

The man sells his sister,

To Egyptian soldiers,

She became pregnant,

At that age? 

Believe lies???!!!

And the Jews,

Christians,

And Muslims,

Believe in Yahweh!?

Are they mad, or drunk?!!!

Let’s forgive Abraham,

For his foolish crimes!

If true, which is not,

Bought the land in Canaan,

Did he pay the price?

Or killed by genocide?

Forgive him once again!

What about his two sons?

The Arabs, Israelites!?

And they fight,

Shed blood,

Why should we pay the price!?

Israel’s Minister, Benjamin,

And the mad Ali Khamenei,

Both selfish, murderers,

Why should we pay the price!?

Strange to my ears,

I heard the ‘Shenanigan!’

Now, I know, means Mischief,

She used it against the... 

Used the word because she,

Meant to kick Selina!

Who are they?

What is there?

They, both, are selfish girls,

Were spoiled from birth.

One’s mother, officer,

For the jails, prisons!

Read the rest by yourself!

Selina, too, pampered,

Her father was absent.

Read the rest by yourself!

Now, the two, like eagles,

Keep fighting to the death.

Selina, all alone,

No friends, without arms!

Daughter of the jailer,

Has close connections.

Wonder how the mother,

Trained, taught her daughter!

She had learned from jails, 

Good and bad, corruptions:

“Succeed with connections,

With no need for knowledge!”

I, unlike most others,

Speak with the fire…

I speak with the wood,

I speak with flames.

I look at the colors,

Smoky, yellow, red.

I watch the sparkles,

And speak with ashes.

I feel and empathize,

With burning branches.

I cry for charcoal,

Taking its last breath. 

I extend my hands but,

Not only to warm up.

I start to talk with,

The skies, in anger.

Why the hell?

Why the hell?

Why the hell?

Then I join Mother Earth,

Together shed tears:

“Why the hell?”

“Why the hell?”

“Why the hell?”

Why burn and destroy?

Why so much selfishness?

Why burn and destroy?

Why so much selfishness?

Why the hell?

Why the hell?  

At times words,

The words used for others,

Penetrate and settle, 

Like the word ‘Displaced!’

If sleep many nights,

Deep in a melting pot, 

Some forget, unaware,

But few are conscious, 

That they are displaced!

Joe is my best friend,

His blood and Vigen’s,

Are from the same vein. 

They crossed the borders,

Both were born Iranians,

Though Vigen was aware, 

Unaware is the latter…

Yes, Joe is the latter,

His skin, eye color,

Show from far away.

What about children,

From my children?

Will they know about me?

Or my ex, their mother?

I think of displaced,

When talk of Joe, Vigen!

I think of displaced,

With Natives in Reserves!

I think of displaced,

Africans caught, slaved!

I think of displaced,

When cross the borders!

The day is, Saturday,

I remain in my bed,

Half-open are blades.

Enjoy life’s pleasures,

Sing the birds in chorus,

One perch by the feeder!

Contents of the feeders, 

Vary, are different,

In one mix of sunflower.

Focus on that bird’s tail,

Is like a fan, and tainted,

In sunray, golden shades.

The naughty bird, vigilant,

Acts as if is a commander,

Soon, attack their brigades.

I lie down, keep silent,

Full of joy, and observe,

Blood wine, I am a vase.

With each cell must praise,

The patience, tolerance,

When endless like oceans.

“Look at them, look at them,”

Someone seems to whisper:

“Don’t ever complain…”

For minutes and hours,

Watch, adoring nature,

The season’s flowers.

Yes, it is Saturday,

Have no work for today.

I relax in my way,

With my thoughts, images.

I dreamt I was dead,

No blood in my veins,

No flesh, without nerve!

Was graced in a grave,

Around me Great Earth,

Quiet with silence…

Silence was the ruler,

No walker, all absent,

No one there to bother.

Only the bones were left,

With no joint, scattered,

Without a bed, blanket…

Suddenly heard a chirp,

Some spoke, a whisper:

“This grave is ancient!”

The pick hit, came shovel,

Sides broke with hammers,

They removed my cover!

Broke bone to pieces,

A few cleaned them,

Stored them far away,

From my resting place!

The younger to older,

Came and went,

Men, women,

Students, professors, 

And the last, an expert,

Explained what happened.

Archeologists, like others,

Were fully mistaken,

Took me back to ages,

Time of life in the cave,

I smiled, puffed laughter!

I am lost,

Lost behind,

Looks of eyes,

Looks of minds,

Looks of thoughts.

Their schools!

Their science!

And the faiths!

Look at them,

Look at eclipse!

Want to write a poem,

Shove it into bottle,

Like the concise letter,

Written by the lover,

And sealed into bottle,

Left to waves of ocean,

Found near Vancouver.

What about the content?

Poverty? Wilderness?

Oppressor? Or oppressed?

Censorship? Religions?

The priests? Prophets? 

Efforts for freedom?

I have been, will always,

Questioning, and question:  

“Is from? Goes to where?”

Our life is reaction,

Our life is reaction,

Our life is reaction,

Nothing more,

Nothing less,

All, action-reaction!

Want to write a poem,

Insert it in bottle,

Deposit with the waves,

And the tides of oceans:

“Be careful and honest,

Hand it to future…”

In my concise letter I,

Want to write about love,

When is lacked, its excess,

When beloved, by lovers,

And hardship, and suffer,

And hopes and dreams of,

The homeless cart pushers,

Bombmakers, displaced…  

Wonder if I steal,

Am I a thief?

Or lover?

Are they not,

All the same?

The lovers,

Wish the best,

But somehow,

For themselves!

“My lady,

Delilah,

Juliet,

Shireen,

Or Leila,”

And others,

Lots of them!

I look for,

Ascension,

In space,

Looking down,

At the Earth,

A nothing,

In darkness…“

Then question:

“Who am I?”

Have value?

Like diamond?

Like a pearl?

What are they?

What are they if we are,

Nothingness in darkness?

Miss Hallaj,

Miss Attar,

Miss Rumi,

And others!

Who am I?

She speaks,

And he too,

Yes, it hurts!

She, Afghan,

He is White!

She sought job,

He, her boss.

Sex? No sex?

What went on?

I listen,

Stay mum!

The shameless powerful,

Use lying, burning books,

And their God as a hook!

Is it not noose for fools?

If ever you go out,

From room to backyard,

Or too far from the house.

If you see some tree(s)

With tiny green leaves,

Buds, petals in falling.

If they are violet,

Or whitish, as if dead,

Tightly joined, spread,

Be humble, stop there, 

Politely ask their name. 

Stand there like I do,

Lost in love, excited,

Inhaling the moments.

If are shy, heads to chests,

If are sad and silent,

If alone, together,

Be my good messenger,

Say: “Hello,” and observe.

See their buds?

Small? Large?

Flowers?

Dead? Alive?

See the shades of color?

Snow white? Violet?

Some speak with heaven,

Some look at final bed,

On green and lush earth,

Or going with the wind,

To end up under feet…

Yet, still, don’t forget,

Make sure, be messenger,

Yes, tell them, I love them. 

I read the article,

Many times, and again,

And it makes me wonder:

“The Mother! Kidnapper?”

Then ponder,

Want answer,

Not from a paper,

Nor from the judges!

Carrying for nine months,

And giving birth to child,

Being called kidnapper?!

Is she not the mother?

Can she be kidnapper?

Looking deep inside me,

Turn my head to the wall,

Feel ashamed of such talk!

Is she not the mother?

Can she be kidnapper?

If she was next to me,

If ever comes to me,

Will not inform police,

Cause she is a mother,

Mothers loves children,

Far beyond the fathers,

Above the laws written.

Is she not the mother?

Can she be kidnapper?

The police officers,

Use hazard of amber,

They act as do puppets,

Stab back with dagger,

And shake a saltshaker,

On wounded, cut fresh! 

Urmia, a known Great Lake,

Has lived with many names.

To me, she is a picture, 

Reminds me of Roohi,

Also talks of others,

At the top sits Luther.

Once it was for tourists,

Water was medicine,

Many went swimming,

For fun and curing.

Now it is dead,

The wind howls,  

No green, no deer, 

‘No beauty’ is there!

The Salton Sea, I've heard,

Has been almost the same!

Wonder if by nature!

Or by the humans?

For years I tried to,

Defend and respect you,

I stood against the,

Insults that crushed you.

Today my head is down,

I accept every word,

That was said and I heard,

Bad comments, about you.

Genocide in Gaza,

Indicates who you are!

That is what I had heard:

“Good? Only if powerless!”

I took you as friends,

When you had no power,

You ain't my brothers,

No more we are friends, 

Our friendship is dead!

Leave me and go away, 

Aim to make a fire,

With your books, 

I must burn all of them,

Together with your faith!

Your heaven is the hell,

Wise follows the wisdom,

I leave you and your kind,

Whatever you have done!

My talk is not of hate,

It highlights my anger,

Gave you seeds, branches,

From bags and gardens,

Also, farms and orchards, 

You poisoned the harvest,

Distance me from them…

Too early,

Is morning.

In the rain,

The road wet,

Sport shoes,

Tights, she wears.

Visible

Her calf, thighs, 

Right butt size.

Rain jacket,

Covers head,

With hoody…

Dog, doll-like, 

Sibling to a fox,

A kind of brownish,

A shade of light to dark.

Venus in beauty,

Beige-cream,

Of mohair, or woolly,

Though in leash,

It walks with dignity.

“Who walks who?”

I whisper…

Gordon, too, like Allan,

Is Native, First Nation.

They are named after the,

Mean killer invaders,

And greedy looters, 

Oppressing Settlers,

And enforced by churches.

These two are not alone,

Plenty are around.

Those who once felt ashamed,

Left their homes and wandered. 

For many, many years,

They have been insulted,

Lips, fingers, targeted:

“…Indians, savages!”

Now they have, finally,  

Learned to speak aloud,

Confident and proud:

“I belong to…tribe...”

I was born, also raised,

Far from croissants.

But here where I live,

I find it good-looking,

And enjoy eating it.

The question is: 

“How to eat?”

The answer is funny!

Check it on YouTube,

None of the videos,

Even one,

Comes from the makers,

Or makers’ locations,

Where was found, started.

Worms crawl,

Robins hunt,

Life goes on.

Mankind came,

Pesticide, sprayed,

Killed the worms,

Robin-kinds migrated.

Ouch and ouch!

Yes, nothing has remained,

But grass and golf carts!

Ouch and ouch!

I avoid the doctors,

Doctors talk of cancer,

And other disorders,

Then pills and injections.

Want to be unaware,

Of diseases, sickness,

Prefer mindlessness,

Prefer blindness,

And dumbness, 

And deafness,

To the talks of doctors!

I rather lay in bed,

Like a child,

Breastfed,

Hugged and kissed,

And pampered,

Cradled under care,

Sleeping in silence. 

Then, one day,

A friend calls to say,

To others, another:

“Have you heard? 

He is dead…”

Full stop,

That is the end!

A crow cawed and cawed,

Came crowds of crows,

Flapped wings,

Flew, jumped,

Cawed and cawed,

Declared war:

“Who dared to steal eggs?

Take our eggs?”

With its big reddish eyes,

An owl was in its nest, 

Sheltered in a very old tree.

It listened to the caws, 

Checked its chest,

Saw its eggs,

Hatched, unhatched, still there.

Owl smiled,

Then whispered:

“Look at them,

These bandits, 

Ugly thieves,

The robbers,

Stealing everything,

These truly bandits.”

Then smiled,

In its thoughts:

“They eat eggs,

Eat chickens,

Fish, seashells,

Without shame,

Yet claim…”

It rolled eggs:

“Innocent?

You? Victim?”

But crows wore black,

Cawed, nodding to a wall!

She has killed her husband,

Using a knife in the kitchen,

Cut the part of his throat,

Shelter for the main veins.

She is one more victim, 

Not a killer, a murderer!

Following my research,

Saddled firm, prepared, 

Chose a path, direction,

Hit the road, went away.

“Closed,” was what I faced,

So, drove looked to search,

Encountered an angel,

She relaxed on some bench.

Siblings-like we spoke,

Broken her heart, bones,

Patient, kind, she crouched.

Did not mention Koran,

Abraham, nor Torah,

No word on the Troika!

She follows their Tayee,

The Great Sagalie Tayee,

Yahuwah? Or Holy Spirit? 

I told her of my needs,

About the Chief, Pauline,

Of neither knew a thing,

Moon, tiger on the cliffs!

Instead, she told me,

Of her work, her writing, 

Among them a poem…

“Sang to me the spirits,

Right before a court meeting,

Felt in pain, was scared of the jail.”

Katie has written this,

Must call it acrostic, 

Soft, Frail, and Sweet! 

Self-esteem is first to dream,

Underestimate it is such a drain,

Readily aware of the chance to come,

Victims we are no longer one,

If we choose, we must follow through,

Ventures we roam to places unknown,

Opening we are for all to see,

Rights we seek more knowledge we need,

Surprisingly yes, is truly me.

I have a small rug,

From Afghanistan,

I love this great art,

It speaks in silence,

Like ash in a furnace,

Speaks with the flame:

“Go and burn injustice!”

In downtown Toronto,

The Police on horses,

Wear yellowish jackets.

“Generously he wastes,

Our hardship and sweat,

That we pay with taxes!”

I shiver and question:

“Who trained Bin Laden?”

“And who made the Hamas?”

“Did you not? Yes, you did,

Therefore, why complain?”

You were booed by people,

You who live in the palace,

You help those like Hitler,

You order the soldiers,

And those in government:

“Send more aid to Gaza,

Not for old, children,

Hospitals, sick, injured,

But to help the killers!”

I heard the Westerners,

Talk of Houthis, Yemen,

And the Gazans, Arabs:

“If they kill it is wrong,

Our killing is correct!”

You copy your parents,

Auctioning the slaves,

In markets to be raped!

Those who know history,

Learn about politics,

And about empires,

Also, falls that they faced.

No doubt that all of them,

Died thanks to corruption.

Look at Rome, Persia,

And Japan and China,

As well as Britain,

And Tsars in Russia!

Which comes next?

When and where?

Here is the answer:

“The United States!

Her fall is on its way,

You witness if patient!”

Carry a bag filled with books, 

Books, essays, and notebooks,

I walk to find a place and settle.

Read the books that I have,

Exclude the ‘Wasteland’…

‘Wasteland’ is a cannon,

Somehow like the Bible,

I dislike all the cannons,

The cannons are venom.

T. S. Eliot is a cannon,

His book is a cannon,

And both are poisons,

I see depth in neither!

I feel that they are dust,

Profs say they are rocks!

Why do the professors,

Universities and colleges,

Insist on praising them?

Why does the Media,

Follow every step, 

As if a blind behind dog?

Did not Rudyard Kipling, 

And Zhivago’s Pasternak,

Win their Nobel prize? 

I see them as big toys,

That is, it, nothing more,

For Kaiser and John Bull, 

Or maybe the new version,

‘Uncle Sam’s Washington!’

Why read them in textbooks?

Why Madonna in the church?

Why raise to the stratosphere?

Wasteland-likes, as is ‘If’,

Are brainwash acids…  

And he came,

And stood,

Had some tools!

She stood very firm,

All her hands,

Horizontal, straight!

Raised his hand,

To reach her,

But he failed!

She, silent

And harmless.

He went, came,

With a ladder,

Cut one hand,

Tree's branch!

And I saw her tears!

And I saw her tears!

And I saw her tears!

She cried,

The tree!

I wondered,

I questioned!

No reply!

No answer!

Screen in my mind,

I watched a film,

A bare Earth!

Mankind is crazy!

Brainless,

Destroys everything,

Why are we so selfish

Her hair was like cotton,

Wet her pillow with tears.

Her whispers were dying:

“No returning husband,  

We have a single child,

A daughter, that is all,  

She does not have a child,

And has her menopause.” 

Talked and whined,

On a sick or death bed: 

“I will go as the second,

And can see the end of us!

”Repeating, she went on:

“He went and I will die,

She will leave after us,

No one left behind us,

This is the end of us…”

Inside went her breath,

And never came again!

What we felt was silence:

“This is the end of us!”

Being a filmmaker,

People look and wonder,

I leave my film half-way,

And put them on the shelf.

Listen my good friends,

Was watching Barabbas,

With the actor I love,

And observed lots of false!

The woman wears a bra,

Looked at her eyebrows,

And dress, and makeup,

And décors, background,

Mise-en-scene, all in all.

Then I looked at acting,

And the way of talking, 

Cameras, their angles…

Found lights and animals,

Very bad, could be wrong.

Caravans, Caravanserais,

The shanties, floors, walls,

Pots and pans, lifestyle, 

Of people in those times,

Are guesses, are not right!  

I know that they tried,

Yet can say wasted time!

Having not seen such life, 

With camels and caravans

Could be and is the cause.

That is why my pieces,

With, or without an actor,

Are sitting on the shelves, 

And never will come out.

I may be able to,

Fool others, not myself!

Pauline Johnson, myself,

Are Half-breed children, 

Indigenous, our fathers,

Mothers’ blood, invaders, 

Such a life is grievance! 

Our pain is complex,

Is a hell, yet simple,

And burns us all over.

Our fathers accepted,

The faiths of invaders,

Brought by our mothers,

Like the Esther-Relations.

Poor she, from Christians,

To the world I was Muslim.

My father, all his life,

Asked me to see Kaaba,

The house of Abraham.

He believed as was told:

Praised God’s prophets,

Abraham and Moses,

Then Jesus, Mohammad!

“My lovely, kind father,”

I did not dare mention:

“These lies are invented!”

Pauline and I act as twins,

Do not buy these fictions,

With a hero called Moses.

Abraham’s story,

And Sara, sister-wife, 

Their school, Yeshiva, 

Columns of Noah’s Ark,

Are foolish, are made up,

With their serpent and lies!

In one lovely night,

The couple were bright.

-I wish to have our child!

-I also, and why not?

Woman asked:

-And gender?

He replied:

-Like yourself, an angle.

She smiled, satisfied.

Staring at her eyes,

His soul left to fly,

Wander in galaxies,

Satellites he crossed,

And grabbed the stars.

Cherry-picked,

Plucked some…

Selina was born,

She is a grown-up.

Once a lad said to her:

-I know of your father,

He is a thief, a robber!

She, in shock, surprised:

-Explain when, how, why!

-He stole the stars,

Planted in your eyes!

After too many years,

She, still, remembers.

-I enjoyed the comment, 

It is great, I love it…

I killed you, and felt sad,

I cut you, yet felt calm,

Burning you was all fun.

Your flames were great,

Liked your scent, fragrance,

Of you that filled the air.

After you killed again,

Then again, and again,

Your sisters, brothers…

Delicious is smell,

Of the ones I murder,

I want to kill again…

And again, and again!

Want to ignite fires,

From wood and tinder,

Therefore, cut to pieces,

Some trees, branches,

Collect leaves, make fire.

I like their fragrance,

Not from the gasses!

Yes, I am a murderer,

A serial killer…

List in hand went shopping, 

Bread, yogurt, broccoli, 

Olives, orange, and banana,

With cabbage and asparagus.

Suddenly soared my thoughts,

Lingered in Pacha-Mamma.

And we walked to Nazca,

(Home to the mystic lines,)

Entered farms of Co-ops.

The Blacks, imported by Spain,

Were forced to work, no rest, 

Like the lizards in the sun,

The rulers saw slaves as horses. 

My trip took place after years, 

Long after the first slaves,

And kids of those slaves,

Even their children, 

Parents of the descendants,  

They lived like their ancestors!

Came to me, a hybrid, Latino, 

Spanish speak the Mestizos:

“Tienen grand manos y pies!”

The Blacks plow as do oxen: 

“En Las Vegas, Cuidarte!”

Here, we remain unaware, 

Latino is our man, a hired,

To select, pack, and send, 

The shipment by airplanes! 

Tore apart asparagus’s paper, 

Read the codes, I deciphered,

Came from the same place,

Felt the green in had faded,

Tasted bitterness of a venom!   

 For many, many years,

I went around, traveled,

Saw and checked places!

Read books, went visited, 

Walked to find engraved,

Met bullies, encountered, 

Abandoned were churches.

Entered the forts, castles, 

And tens of the palaces,

They took me to a poem:

‘Mada’in,’ was a mirror.'

Lived a year in La Paz,

Place of peace, and calm,

Is not and hardly was!

There, a man, the Tupak,

Rebelled to seek his rights,

Stood firm, declared war!

He lost, was arrested,

And tied to four horses!

Each rider on the horse,

Rode to some direction,

To the North, to the South, 

Others to East and West!

Imagine what happened,

For Tupak, shed tears…

Murderers, the riders,

Were soldiers of Spain,

Spain lost to the States!

These days the USA,

Has become old Spain,

She bullies and dictates,

Soon arrives our savior!

In our lives, you, and I 

Differ by two letters, 

You are T and I am W. 

We are the examples,

Of comments of Davood,

My Jewish companion,

We climbed a mountain.

Between us a chasm,

You and I look the same,

But vary, are very different.

You have chairs,

In some U, colleges,

I live poor as a tenant.

For my food, clothing,

I need and am working,

Every day, every night.

I mingle with the people,

Travel here and there, 

Touch their lives,

And observe…

You may read, if ever,

Only talk and converse,

Transfer what you guess,

Mostly the junk you hear,

Baseless, from an outsider!

To enter I risk the fire,

By land, sea, also air,

Meeting varied people,

Stay and dine with them, 

In their shanties, trenches.

You, at home, rest, speak,

The chasm between us,

Is your ‘Talk!’ to my  ‘Walk.’

I recall my eighteen,

In shock, kept crying:

“What if I, tomorrow,

Do something illegal?”

When ended seventeen,

I entered my eighteenth,    

Nightmare, not a dream!

I sat with head on knees,

Afraid, sad, anxiously, 

Had to answer questions!

But later, in the York,

Friend and classmate,

Said a lot about her,

Seventeen to eighteen,

I listened thoughtfully.

“Now, free and an adult,

Joined my boy in a bar,

We had shot after shots,

Drank till got drunk…”

“Spent time in the bed,

Rolled over and played,

Till no more was virgin!”

Happy was at the start,

Soon after pain arrived:

“Faulted me, my parents,

Barred me, no freedom,

Curfewed, not reasons,

So, I aimed for revenge,

Sold me and in that way,

Very cheap and never,

Could become a woman.”

I always keep thinking:

“Seventeen to eighteen,

Can a night be a magic?”

I forgive bees and wasps,

I forgive snakes, ants,

I forgive the wolves, cats,

But not the humans!

We walk tall, forward chest:

“We have the best of brains,

We know and own science,”

Our claims make oceans!!!

But,

Are we what we say?

My best gift and lesson

From the Westerners,

Has been, is:

“I don’t know,”

 Even when didn’t know. When don’t know!

While in the Middle East,

My friends, the Persians, 

And Arabs, and Turkic,

Male, female, old and young,

Gave answers to questions,

Covering everything.

Absent was one sentence:

“I don’t know,”

 Even when didn’t know. 

  I stood, all amazed,

Kept looking straight,

At brush when moving,

Side to side, right to left.

Must have been crazy,

Or, maybe kind, caring,