Scattered

No, am not Christian

But love song on Jesus.

He loves me in my way

Like Rumi, Shams, Hallaj.

Long ago left the mosque

And divorced synagogue!

But Jesus, as she sings

Has a home in my heart.

Come, cuddle in my bed,

Do not talk about church.

Just rewind, repeat the

Song of love and respect.

Sing of God in Heaven, 

Water-walks of Jesus,

Keep giving, devotions. 

No, never will convert 

To any of the faiths, 

Jew, Muslim, Christian.

Sing to me of Jesus.

Sing to me of Jesus.

Sing to me in your way

Ignore the lies of church.

I escaped the buildings

That deal with religions.

Close eyes to them all,

Come to me, sit on side.

I consume wine, bread

But not with parishes,

No priest’s, Christian’s.

Love talking in silence 

With the books and papers

Squeezed in the shelves!

I read of Taliban 

Being wild, brutal!

They whip the Men, Women

Hang bodies in city squares!

Remember tons of names

Colonists, their victims,

Mestizos and Metis 

Born to the raped mothers!

I think of lakes, rivers, 

Full of fish and beavers, 

Then arrive Europeans,

Buffalo, exterminates…

Words become the photos 

Of the heads on the poles,

Thanks to kings, Creoles!

Reflections of Europe

Appear in the mirrors.

Amaru, Catari, Katari

Are killed by Spanish!

Cannot find exception,

Swedish, Hollanders,

To Brits and French, 

To Germans, Portugal,

Norwegians to Denmark,

Catholics and Romans

To Greece, Vatican…

Wonder why we see just 

The muftis and mullahs 

Of Kabul and Tehran! 

On both sides of the road

The farmers grew corn.

Put the harvest in bags,

Marked, US, Canadian.

The feathers of one bird

Were whitish, fallen there.

Few were on right side

And some on other side.

Sun, silver and golden

Stood high in heavens,

Fatherly saw, observed.

Treasured stories

Of the past that had seen.

The Natives, Indians,

Lived here in tepees

Not needing a permit

For building, crossing.

High above, in sky

Flew eagles, crows.

One tiny bird arrived,

Landed on camera

That is there to spy

On people who cross. 

Moving its under tail

It dropped, delivered

A wise sign; rejected

A latitude as border…

Devils lie in anthems

And in the governments

And flags with soldiers

And worship places!

Of Holland, her blood,

Shared some of Indonesia:

“My name is Winnetka.”

The tattoos on her arms,

Were Jesus and Cross…

Was free and her mind 

Floated on her tongue.

Like windbag of Scotts 

Kept talking, non-stop.

I, a vase, made of mud,

Felt desert, hot, dry…

She filled me to the rim,

Made me feel anarchist,

God-loving, agnostic…

Told me of her husband,

Younger by one decade,

As man mixed bloods,

Black of Africa, Portugal,

And British Scotch…

His mother’s father said:

“Take away your Nigger!”

She disliked the churches

And religious leaders:

“Are rapists and bitches!”

Was against Mafias

Of weapons and drug:

“Genetically modified!”

Said about seeds, fish-farms

To Bible, the Right, Wrong:

“They are not Christians,

They sell faith with Bible!”

To find ways and cultures

Went outside for research.

Saw many 

Wives, husbands,

Spoke of quarrels

Over the ways, manners,

And the life expenses…

Words ended in a fight,

One packed, left,

Went outside,

Had pride…

In hotel,

Then a bar…

Next day died,

Night arrived…

To decrease expenses

Found place in shelter

Parted with home address!

Marched in problems

With becoming homeless!

No more could register

In the books and papers!

In the Hasting alleys 

Saw many such cases,

Studied for research, 

And spoke, and chatted

With useful turned useless! 

Had no card, no license

Benefits, nor respect!

They shared same slogan:

“Why the hell should I care?”

Not every nightwalker

Is orphan or homeless!

Some come of bars, drunk

And some are working hard.

Saw young men working there

Repairing roads, sewage…

I smiled at life when

Heard some of residents

Poking out few heads

To shout and complain

While using absurd words.

I devote my time to

Recording history

In form of poetry.

We, all, walk on same Earth,

Powerful, powerless,

Rich and poor, all genders.

Sky was pregnant,

Placenta, amniotic water.

With the wind’s strength

Clouds moved to change shape, 

Danced, floated drops,

Whipped the rain, made flood.

I was soaked 

Though covered,

In, beneath the shower. 

Music of angel

Came to me of nowhere,

Unclear, and blur

It carried some question.

In reverse, I shouted…

In no time, soon after,

Came to me in person,

Heaven-sent-massager 

Carrying mug and cake.

Now I am short of words 

To say thanks, appreciate

The good will of angels…

Having been taught, I learned:

“Die with us bodies, wealth, 

Background, cultures, race…” 

So, let us paint on walls 

Large, small murals

In shape of care and love 

That exist in our hearts, 

Our brains, conscious, minds.

In her chair

Seemed to be glazier 

On the virgin mountain,

Highest peak, at crest,

Dark of night in her hair.

Stared at monitor

And her eyes…

Inside them Sclera,

Two large pearls,

Emerald as iris,

And eyelid, a saber.

Scanning monitor

Acted guard, 

Shakespeare’s, 

In Hamlet…

I observed…

My eyes there

Heart elsewhere… 

  In comfort of my car

Studied the sky.

Sun is the best artist

Has pallet and brush.

Her easel at the heights,

Paints mountains and clouds.

For curious early bird

Sun brought great worm. 

The Ember is expert 

Even under ashes, 

If charcoal, pomegranate! 

The Reader, Snow-White, 

Keeps the book in silence! 

Closes lips, bites them, 

Tongue is imprisoned, 

Behind the teeth mountains… 

Focuses eyes, stares

At the ashes in center… 

Till arrives hurricane 

Giving life to ember, 

Turning it to flames…

Almighty Voice is heard! 

Wandering in wonder

Tongue in cheek is question:

“Why ash sits on the fire???”

Red, blue, and amber

Burst and shout the flames:

“So, it may appear...”

“I, myself have witnessed,”

 Whispers the curious:

“Almighty blankets 

Wandering Spirit…”

Spirit of Ember

Soft, sweet like mother:

“Both of them were fighters 

And both sought righteousness.”

To me as researcher

The Prairie Heroes 

Are nothing but honest.

I said hi in Farsi

And he came smiling:

“No more I, can take it!”

Started, soon, stopped,

Inhaled the dusty time!

Confused I found him, 

But could not see in deep.

Was kettle, kept boiling, 

Escapee, refugee, fugitive?

Said he has written book:

“But cannot rewrite it!”

Victimized, displaced,

Saw the things, recorded!

Knowing not about me,

Made up own stories,

Civilized, Barbaric!

Shaped bubbles in his eyes,

Murmuring, almost talked:

“Please help me rewrite!”

Meant to say: “My friend, 

Symptoms of neuro disorder,

ADHD, Impulsive behaviors, 

I too share, and suffer!” 

Extrovert, I am but,

Said nothing, kept silent, 

Tongue in cheek, I remained!

We, he and me, neither,

Can go on, have power!

So, said bye, divided, 

Fog in sun, scattered!

Pendulum in my chest

Strikes right and left.

It stirs memories

Of the day I have seen,

In desert, mountain, seas!

I do not like old age!

This, to me, is a hell!  

I recall my life, time, 

Afghans, Afghanistan.

Searching on Indigenous, 

Desperate, almost dead, 

See the shores and vessels,

Inside them, worried men…

Angel hosts, surprised,

Welcome guests with pride,

Shelter them, feed, share love.

I do not like old age!

Feel living inside hell! 

It is hard to sleep

When dreams keep racing.

Iskandar is Tajik,

Between us countries,

Comes to me in dream!

News, come of cities

They differ, are varied,

Partly good, part obscene!

Pendulum, in my chest, 

Strikes right and left.

Am willow in the wind,

Cut and killed with dagger

Am heading for Abbot 

Want to watch murals, 

Enjoy their slogans…

In BC, Vancouver,

At a Hasting corner, 

Scavenge the reasons, 

Of comers that get lost!

Near there, I saw her,

Is new, on her way.

Beauty of angel,

Playful as dolphin,

Has kettle inside her…

Was laughed at, departed,

Seeking life, freedom,

Chose to be “Runaway!”

Smiles as extrovert and social

She, herself, sheds the light:

“Though grown and mature, 

Am simple, cute, child.”

Her first foe is her tongue,

Unapproached, she starts:

“Love you and your mustache,

Love the birds and wildlife…”

Whenever opens mouth

Breaks the caring heart.

She, big fish in a pond

Easily can be found

Unaware of market

Is best bate for fishers!

Narcotics all around

And dealer is wormlike 

To take her to bed, boss! 

Pendulum in my chest

Strikes right and left.

It stirs memories

Of the day I have seen,

In desert, mountain, seas!

I do not like old age!

This, to me, is a hell!  

I recall my life, time, 

Afghans, Afghanistan.

Searching on Indigenous, 

Desperate, almost dead, 

See the shores and vessels,

Inside them, worried men…

Angel hosts, surprised,

Welcome guests with pride,

Shelter them, feed, share love.

I do not like old age!

Feel living inside hell! 

It is hard to sleep

When dreams keep racing.

Iskandar is Tajik,

Between us countries,

Comes to me in dream!

News, come of cities

They differ, are varied,

Partly good, part obscene!

Pendulum, in my chest, 

Strikes right and left.

Am willow in the wind,

Cut and killed with dagger

he writing was simple:

“My will and my mother.”

Request was painting:

“Bury me like Waris!”

Explained how to see:

“Go fishing in the sea,

Pull the net with crane,

Look at it and its shape,

Imagine birth, rebirth, 

And in womb, a fetus!”

Wanted to leave, go back

In mother’s stomach:

“Dig a pot like a womb

And sit me, squat.”

He had some exception:

“Let my palm be a vase

In it seed and water,

And it shall blossom,

Grow tall, be tree,

Be mother, bear fruits…”

Wascana, as we learned 

Became our lone lesson:

“Mass of bones, a pile!” 

He had meant to tell us:

“My bones are valuable

Only, if, used as vase 

With its soil, fat, flesh!”

Buried him as he asked:

“No tears, only wine,

Because wine is blood,

Of grapes and the vine!”

He believed in rebirth 

As had had the Waris

Be my guest, come on in,

Remove masks to see me.

Be honest, talk manly,

Why be bad wolf, deceive? 

I know your strategy 

Rich, quite devilish!

I am child of mountain

Live like eagles, lions,

Avoid the fox, vultures!

Do not eat what remains 

From wounded corpses. 

You abuse your soldiers

Of many ranks, grades…

To do so, naturally,

Cover facts, mislead them! 

They work in the basement,

And maybe in the tower.

Your soldiers lead planes

With engines, engine-less,

Pour chemicals, gasses!

In the shanty shelters,

My weapon is simple,

IED, sword, dagger,

Yet, avoid using them.

Take the mask and face me

World is best with loving…

All of us can fit in,

So, let us share ceilings,

Feel at home, welcome in,

Food tastes best by sharing.

In his palm, held it tight,

With inhale, exhaled sigh

Squeezed very hard:

“This is left of our Mon!”

Once again, looked, stared,

In his eyes gathered pearls,

All, shining blue, red…

Ran flood of tears:

“Of our Mon, this is left!”

Sang as if Joan Baez,

Or ABBA, Bob Dylan, 

Meaningful, quite sad!

His lyrics were new,

A sort of like Khayyam:

“This is left of mother,

Mother Earth…”

Big trucks and shovels,

Bulldozers, Graders, 

Dug, loaded, sent away,

There stood the mixers,

Gravel in cement 

Poured on the flowers,

And trees, vegetables:

“See Mother on death bed?”

Rose condos, apartments 

Of cements, roads asphalt:

“In sewage fish and whale

Cannot live and inhale..."

Busy were laborers unaware

Of death of Mother Earth…

Once again, he stared, 

In his eyes many pearls

Shined blue, green, red…

With paddle in my hand 

I flagged, showing paths,

Felt being smallest…

Saw the men with cranes,

Also, the thieves’ ladder,

Large scissors, as cutter.

Curious, I observed…

In me boiled the question:

“Who did it, what happened?”

A cable had been cut

For copper, vandalized!

Witnessing work of thieves

Was the cause for searching 

The right words, dictionaries. 

Like always in my head 

The crazy thoughts raced:

“Who are thieves?

Why did it?

Who will buy?

Is this kind of trade?

Steal, sell, process, recycle?”

Ran across many words:

Among them “Plunder,”

“Addiction” and “Pusher,”

Also, “Loot” after “Fence!” 

The words made an army, 

Each soldier was racing,

None of them replied the:

“What seed was planted?”

Took vodka, water, lime,

Set music, too loud,

Then ignored hellish life, 

Malleable like dervish,

Repeated singing this:

“This is social sickness!”

Her name is in Persian, 

Translates to “Eyelash.”

I said hi, we chatted,

Talk ended in changes

Of the life’s standards.

In the past the lovers

When spoke about girls

Mostly talked about hair,

Eyebrows, eyes, lashes.

Her sizes were taboo

And secret, hid, tattooed.

The women of these days 

Are holding positions 

In science, governments,

Randomly are the same

As romantic poems...

Then, the curl of her hair,

Eyebrow with its curve, 

And the eyelash sharpness,

Acted as bows, arrows,

For them their men dueled. 

Just before the goodbye

I showed my surprise:

“Which one is less respect?”

She played with knuckles,

It could be of despair.

Took vey deep breath,

With a sigh, to answer:

“Guess a wife of today 

Is another female, 

That is why not always,

Is seen as fulfillment 

And lifetime’s partner! 

Picture sun when setting,

And yourself, driving,

To southeast, are heading.

Behind you Vancouver

In front, Mount Baker.

Left and right, sidemirrors

Show sunset’s pricker, 

Red, maroon, and golden.

In front Aphrodite,

Fetishy, silver, white,

Murders, kills, strikes!

And the artist in love,

Is torn by two lovers.

The news races

As beast, gladiator.

People watch, hear

Short, exaggerate,

Without attention.

The Britain, U. S.

Also, Soviets,

Osama Bin Laden,

Each and together,

Raise hell and scare!

I, friends, others,

Cannot be the same.

For years grew beard,

Went, crossed borders.

Saw the Taliban,

When was in Rabat,

And then Lashkargah.

Yaqoob in Zaranj

Was born warrior, 

Told the Caliphate:

“Arab, go away

We are the Persians,

Never bow, give up!” 

Then, in Kandahar

Saw the Shah Baba,

Man of Nader Shah,

Fight of Shah Zaman. 

Then, Kabul, Takhkhar

Peoples’ backgrounds.

The trees were burned

As were Poundmaker,

Wandering, Big Bear!

  My dear older son

It is time for a talk.

I can see your anger

When you saw as great,

Job-offer of that sheikh.

Very young and eager,

You wanted I accept

To fly his chopper.

Knowing me far better

I said “No,” rejected.

May not know what I mean,

Go and watch “The Misfits.”

Investment is Dubai’s

To insult Qatar’s Sheikh,

Both allies and friends.

In Sharjah, Emirates,

For a time, was teacher,

There I met like myself,

Syrian young teacher.

Had escaped genocide, 

By Assad, in Hama.

Intelligent and learned,

Talked of past, present:

“Child of dog, always dog 

As is Sheikh’s and Sultan’s.”

I could not work for them

Most of sheikhs are rotten,

Their life means corruption! 

I knew sheikhs’ morals, 

Theirs stink like swamp, 

Could not sell my pride!

Hey Judy, my baby,

You must be seventy.

I was young, unaware

Of the Texan culture.

Found you as girlfriend,

And you taught me, trained.

Sadly, lost each other, 

Due to parents’ mistakes.

Your father, my mother

Must answer the Heaven.

Their selfish decisions 

Cut us like the scissors.

He rose gun, aimed at me:

“Leave, if not will kill you!”

At home, told me others

Of your hair and letter.

Received it my mother,

But hid it, kept secret.

Now I sit with myself,

Looking back, remember

Those lovely sharing days.

Feel ashamed to tell you:

“I have lost our pictures.”

Open-eyed and brain, 

I became some rebel,

Ended up displaced! 

Forgive this refugee, 

I frame you and me

Kissing and smiling.

What hurts most is the hate

But it comes after name.

Names bring the borders, 

Son of this, their cousin!

Such name’s house,

Uncles, aunts!

Possibly a room, bed,

And the list never ends!

Wish I was a nameless,

Hate is born from name,

Deep in me I hate names!

Names bring belonging

To tribes, countries, 

To the faiths, families,

And the laws, militaries,

And culture, behavior!

To me name acts as seed, 

Bears crops and trees!

That is why I hate names,

Names are first divider,

Divide the boys and girls,

And the things expected!

Listen to the anthems,

They fuel hate’s flames!

I reject range of shades, 

White, Black, Yellow, Red,

British and French, USA!

“Imagine,” said Lennon,

Must erase all borders,

Divisions of people, 

Elect “Love” as ruler!

We met at my start,

To him, days were final.

Studied film, writing,

The same waited for me.

For the last semester

Had written, prepared

A chat-book of poems.

Was detailed, explained

The fight of his parents.

He smashed a pizza

In face of his father…

Curious, I asked him:

"Will you say what happened?"

“My mother had affair

With the next-door neighbor,

Was not right, I accept,

So, dad could divorce her,

But he beat, insulted,

Right where we, children,

Stood and observed them!”

Then went on with tears,

His cheeks under shower,

Made floods of mountains.

“My life is strange,

Mom followed her affair,

We, kids live with father!”

He got the best grade

For poem, well-written.

I have kept that booklet

To think of the gone days,

And tropes, genres learned.

Lost fingers, has no palm,

Cat remained, named Iran!

She bridged, connected

The Greece to China!

Vanished old empire,

And Persian children...

Scattered on Mom-Earth 

You find them everywhere,

Unhappy, like homeless,

Hearing the nonsense

From worthless states!

I call on the people, 

All cultures and genders,

Backgrounds and colors,

In every continent,

If rich or if homeless,

Open eyes, think again.

We, one of old nations

Surely got our lesson,

Learned mankind’s treasure

Has been and will remain,

Not in wealth and palace

But in heart, behavior.

Wonder if heard people,

Mainly those in Europe,

In each, every corner, 

Include Sweden to Spain,

Netherland, Italy, Britain,

As well as the French,

Soviets and Germans…

My sisters, brothers, 

Why are we forgetful?

Why do we play fool?

Is it wealth or greed?

Here, there, everyday,

One of the ministers

Goes behind podium,

Uses words, official:

“Are sorry, apologize!”

These leaders are like pigs,

And the worst of monkeys!

You know and I know it,

Your words are empty

And tricks in sleeve.

With your ass on fire

You talk and blabber,

You are like murderer

Inside a gas chamber!

You repent, shed tears:

“Were in dark, unaware!”

While living in palace

You observed crawl of

The shanties from mud.

You cared less, closed eyes,

Not to ask, questions like:

“Who are they? Here? Why?”

You lived the life of bat, 

Conscious less and drunk!

Covered eyes, ears, mind, 

Fooling me is enough

Stop your pouring salt! 

For years you used trumps,

Your stench is swamp’s!

You jackal, fox, vulture 

Take your lies, go away!

Four or five sing about

Chandelier as the song.

In my mind see Khayyam

Goblets are full of wine.

1, 2, 3, want to drink

Get drunk and swing!

To them night is to see,

Tomorrows are unseen! 

They rather close eyes

Be glued to good life…

Good life is described:

“Expect less to have fun.”

I look up to ceiling

Chandelier is singing:

“I do all the counting

You drink and drink,

Live a life in dreams,

Reject the bed, sleep!”

I was there, too early

Waiting for Bradley.

Expected a man but

Was informed is lady.

No place for parking,

I found her, finally.

One of best to exist,

Started mentorship.

I enjoyed and heard her:

“In men’s world I stepped!”

Every word that she said

Was like air to inhale.

Talked of past, explained:

“In their eye saw needles

Cut through, they stared!”

She stayed, kept working, 

Consistent, insisting:

“This is not beyond me.”

She rejected to lose

Sent the system to noose.

Bradley is now, chief

For teaching, training.

She has taught the sexists

Not to mention gender

When a work needs brain.

Am glad that she was

My trainer, mentor.

She deserves my respect

As friend, like sister.

Told Gholam to wake me:

“Sharp at five, in morning

When crew is asleep.”

Plan was swimming 

As if am shark or fish,

Living in gulf and sea. 

Had fallen in the soup

Of government, crew!

Was a kidnap, hostage

Thanks to their relations…

Neptune, was company

Registered for fishing.

Owner was nephew of

The Iran’s president…

Soviet trawlers

Were availed by Cyprus!

I was told Andrei

Suspected my nation

I felt bad, insulted!

Approved him soon after,

Company and owners

Were expert abusers

And a bunch of liars,

sunk in the corruptions!

Came the day that workers 

Chose a corner, murmured, 

Made cross on their chests 

“No more pain, this is end!” 

I, victim, and hostage

Sought a way to scape:

“Sweet home, I return."

Badly miss my childhood

Days we ran in the woods.

Fruit-rich were trees

Lot of the sour cherries.

Wildly went through the

Trees that were too dense.

Plucking more than need

We wore them, earrings.

Come to me my catty,

Mom saw you crying!

Is it right, you missed me,

When I went for camping?

Who says dogs are loyal,

And the cats disloyal?

For a time, let me write 

Nothing but joy and fun!

No do not remind me:

“Be yourself, a Nassy!”

Need hammer to break

Must smash and shatter 

The sad side, bitter me!

Yes, she is my friend,

A lovely kind woman.

To many she is Chief, 

Most, see her as Cree.

But is she?

She knows is Lakota, 

Chosen by three tribes,

Mosquito, Grizzly, 

And Lean Man, as I see. 

Soldiers, Red and Blue

Blindly took orders,

Blatantly obeyed them,

To kill and massacre,

Old and young, children!

So, cruel, massacred

Ignoring age, gender!

She, the chief of today,

Then, a non-existence, 

Was a husk, and hidden!

Brutal invaders, 

Acted like the farmers,

Killed fruits for harvest!

Wonder if is aware,

Of her past, ancestors’

Exodus that happened!

Now, chief and elected,

Shows that is clever

And deserves the respect. 

Sure, buried small husk

Blossomed, is too sharp 

Enlightens to shed light.

If my eyes did one job,

As do the specialized, 

Avoided involving

In what is the poor heart’s,

I too, could, possibly,

Return home, peacefully.

Eyes saw and transferred,

The East side problems.

I carried works of art,

With the paper, pencils.

We set them on easels

For people to buy them,

In the silent auction… 

Money ends, most of it,

In varied donations,

For fixing problems

Of harmed lands,

Sick, patients,

Hospitals, children’s,

And even Lions Gate.

We work to give drugs,

To the needy and lost.

I had Moose, Canada,

Hoping that many like.

While searching for parking,

Saw the people bending, 

Like clowns, and funny,

Answered me the police:

“Need drugs, are addicts!”

Came to me a young man, 

And offered in some bag:

“Have the best and sell it,” 

I was lost: “What is this?”   

Once, a mink saw puppy,

So, chatted, kept talking:

“Are we same family?”

The mink looked eagerly, 

Puppy said: “It could be!”

In their looks, they differed, 

Both feelings were bitter!

Dog owner could hear:

“Both of us are in chains, 

You with leash, I with cage!”

Mink owner pulled the tail,

Tightened leash, dog owner!

The two sang in tune:

“Neither is immune,

From man, this cruel!”

“I, chicken, lamb, cattle

Are the poorest victims,

You enjoy partially…”

Dog listened carefully!

“They kill some for flesh,

Some for hide and fashion,

Many birds for feathers!”

Heard puppy and nodded.

“Go around, defecate,”

Said the mink in laughter:

“Give the man what deserves,

Let them bow, hand-collect…”

Puppy looked for goodbye,

Looked at mink and cried:

“Your skin they clean,

Then after wash, bleach,

Then, in church, they preach!”

In eighteen-eighty-five

Warriors of frog

Stood up, took their guns,

Aiming at the two men,

From the Roman church!

At same time, wrote Nietzsche: 

“Zarathustra,” so has said.

Colonialists with canons

Killed the wives and elders,

Hung, butchered defenders,

Calling them: “Savages,” 

Looked at them as slaves:

“Must listen and obey!”

After years, the curtains

Are removed of churches,

Now, people see, observe,

Devils are such leaders!

Open eyes, read details,

Of cocooned politicians,

They tell lies, create,

Falsified monsters

From the socialists

As well as communists!

I would be ashamed if, 

My blood was Whitish,

With tongue of English!

Colonialist, Europeans,

Called Natives, Indians,

And of this big mistake

Do not feel embarrassed!

Indigenous siblings

Keep pride, be happy,

You have the dignity,

At fault is colonialist!

John Acton

Trained me my parents,

To live with love, and care:

“Never live with corrupt,

Go against apartheid.”

Devoted mind and heart, 

To oppressed and exiled!

I was wrong and confess, 

He is not who I guessed!

I thought he had value,

Just because of his book.

“Is worthy,” I said, thought,

Since he, too, was exiled!

Many were the corrupt,

In shadow of the shah!

Was wrong to think mullahs,

Are clean men of God…!

Knew not at that time:

Power rots and corrupts!

Am sorry,

I was wrong!

Then, he was powerless,

One of us, hurt, disturbed.

I agree that indeed,

Acton said correctly,

Of power corrupting.

Then he was a mullah,

Paying heed, attentive,

See leader, Ayatollah,

Doubtlessly is corrupt, 

And thirsty for blood! 

On the days when hostage,

Felt I was forgotten.

Was on ship, trawler,

In hands of fishermen.

All alone to myself,

Was ignored piece of shit!

Found a book by bucket,

For cleaning asses…

Read through and liked it,

Was Sufi poetry.

Speaker, audience,

In me, were united,

I and me, to myself.

Found a piece of paper,

And on it registered:

“To my love…”

Handed it to the waves.

Kept dreaming, questioned:

“Will ever one read it?

What will they do with it?”

The news of today:

“A cleanup crew,

Found bottle with letter,”

Took me back to waters,

Memories, yester-days.

Remember seeing whale,

Many sharks, stingrays,

And shrimps, in masses!

Remember the tough days,

Oh, the days, bad old days

Some question:

“Burning church?”

I take time at the bay,

Using time look at depths!

Church arrived and claimed:

“You people are pagans,

Those like you end in hell,

We help you to be saved,

By changing, so, covert…”

This went on and came gun:

“We order you to change,

And if not face your death!”

It was hard to accept:

“My parents, their parents,

All were wrong, savage, dumb?”

Some wondered,

Some wandered,

Some said: “Sure,”

Accepted…

Church acted like scissors,

Cut through brothers, 

And parents, children,

Most of the wives, husbands!

Peace and love departed,

Talks became quarrels, 

Anger-filled, they shouted! 

In April of a year,

Near the Frog Lake,

Warriors had gathered,

United, decided:

“Our kindness is tinder, 

For abuse of the church,

So, erase this evil…”

Saw a duck in flight,

Said hello, to chat, talk.

Watched its neck,

Was curvy, crooked!

Seeing it hang in air,

Threw a wild question:

“Does it make you tired?”

Ignored me,

Went away! 

Fresh air

Called again,

I drove far away.

On both sides,

Were mountains,

River ran all along.

Finally…

Parked on side,

Went to farm,

Behind fence,

Few lambs,

Some horses,

All grazed!

Sat and watched,

Looked at them.

In my mind

Talked with them.

Closed eyes,

And opened.

All heads down

Same went on!

They grazed…

My heart was,

Among them!

We were marked:

“It belongs…”

While waiting

I felt shocked:

“What is next?

When happens?

Old age is problem,

Every site, here, there,

Acts like one reminder!

Of college, New Hampshire:

“We did not have crime,

So, left the doors unlocked.”

We, many, were cadets,

General dictated:

“No need of salesperson,

Our cadets are honest.”

The shop’s door was open,

We selected, purchased,

Whatever was needed, 

And handled the payment.

Long ago departed, 

Makes me sad to hear:

“The mullahs made fire,

And buried good old day!”

Bow to wrong candidates!

Lie and cheat presidents!

When steal commanders,

Poor people are chickens!

Keep reading article,

Blood turns to tears!

Can our hearts love again?

Will the good days return?

Confused is brain!

Throw the article!

Of such life am ashamed!

Want to die, disappear!

Where the hell is grave?

  Days ago, wrote poem,

Talked about Britain.

One comment was great:

“Sir, I am one of the,

British, you mentioned!”

Politely sought pardon:

“I was born long after,

Cannot see it your way,

So, oppose and reject!”

I replied in simple: 

“To my colleague poet,

Tree was planted,

Its fruit we harvest,

African was Nigger,

Indigenous a savage!”

Then went on, explained:

“These insults broke them,

Shattered them, divided,

Those in need accepted,

And lived life of slave,

In pens of your parents!”

She, British poet,

Wants to say:

“It was then…”

I tell her: “No, friend!

Yes, husks were stolen,

Buried in mass graves!

She must picture painting,

With Sun, Earth evolving,

And the ships in sailing,

On blood in the seas, 

At cliffs waves roaring,

Butchered are uprisings!

The comment of today

Is meanness, ignorance!

We have had shackles, lynch,

And your chains, also whip!

We can feel your dagger,

Deep in bones and flesh,

Want to kick this bucket!

Has ended our silence,

Call us wild, savages,

Any name, whatever!

Yes, enough is enough,

Being nice made kebab!

Caravans of mules,

Carried load, no fuel!

Can you see Cuba, 

To Andes, Venezuela,

Middle East, Palestine,

And Natives to Afghans?

By working in the farms,

We watered with blood,

And you sat in a palace,

Waiting for piece of pie!

Who the hell? You? Royal?

With insults sharp as knife?

Having been victimized,

Feel victims in our hearts!

Kicking bucket, going wild,

Winners are the bad cows!

Want to be wolf and fox,

Came season for manhunt!

We warn you for last time:

“Yes, enough is enough!”

They speak serious,

And I am too tired!

Made my mind,

I will change!

Must start counting hair,

Eyebrows, noses, ears,

Bald or long, also heads,

To armpits and bare chest,

And areola, both nipples!

They speak serious,

And I am too tired!

Like monkey, I sit there,

Keep searching for lover,

Want to joke with others.

They speak serious,

I seek fun, am tired!

Soon, I will change trend,

Amuse me, counting hair,

Inside the underwear.

I want to reject God:

“Such being, never was!”

Look around, left and right,

Look at things, how they are,

The trees, seas, and heights,

I feel shocked with Aha,

Bite my lips and jail tongue!

“Lucky you, I cannot!”

I tell them, jaw dropped.

I look at eyelashes,

At skin, and the gut,

To hands, and genitals,

See them like flowers,

Rapidly fade in, out.

Compare them to NASA,

To the things man has done!

Laugh loud like crazy,

Whenever hear the:

“Their work is miracle!”

“For how long have we lived?

Who made world as it is?”

In my head race questions.

Then I look at pictures, 

Spent time to take them,

They are parts of nature.

Raising voice, loud, I say:

“These are the miracles!”

Hear of Charles Darwin,

And Freud, scientists:

“Time changed them slowly,

From birth of Big Bang…”

I smile, am deaf, dumb,

Seal and lock all my thoughts:

“This is what I call God!

My mother, old fashioned

Was proud to give birth.

Large brood, she bred,

With joy and pleasure,

As duty, and faith.

She was too religious,

With pride, always said:

“Advised us prophet,

Islam must spread,

A mother makes soldiers.”

Even though was woman,

Never were equal,

A son with a daughter.

Guess never knew of,

Parts of her genital.

Her joy was children,

Not bed or having sex.

For her aim and purpose

Gave herself to husband.

Can see her, even now,

Has smile in her eyes,

Are bright, open wide:

“I gave birth to dozen.”

From the sons remained,

To age of marriage,

Have wives and children,

We were five…

First, married a cousin,

And youngest married with,

One distance relative,

In sort of matchmaking,

Not the rest…

Second was sick, in bed,

Hospitalized with others,

Saw among visitors,

Of the ward, in next bed,

A girl that was gorgeous.

When meeting was over,

Chatted the two patients,

They exchanged addresses,

She became my in-law,

Total stranger…

And the third, a worker,

In plant, assembled,

The car that Iran made…

Befriended colleagues,

One became our neighbor,

Small room he rented…

Friendship bounded them,

Tenant's guests came and went,

Then, his niece, our sister!

My ex was sister of

My school classmate.

My parents made UN, 

And collected nations,

Through the marriages.

Like in hand, five fingers,

These new five sisters

Broke the barriers, 

Demolished all borders, 

Became one, united,

In sorrow and dances.

My simple, kind mother

Sleep tight with bless,

You did bear the soldiers,

Your army conquered…

I hear loud drums,

See them dancing around.

Feel the wind, hurricane,

Feel trees, fallen, dead.

Feel bodies discovered,

Feel the shouts and anger,

Feel them all, am afraid,

And sort of embarrassed!

Today I took a knife,

Cut my heart into parts.

Dislike this huge nest,

It shelters love and hate,

Must divide, dismantle!

Must accept good, or bad,

It combines this and that!

I finished writing cake,

Felt great, sweetness,

In mouth with bitterness!

Feel dying with venom,

Of snakes and pythons, 

Scorpions and serpents!

I recall when she came,

Almost mid-September!

Had Russian pinkish face,

Worked for us, waitress,

On her cheeks ran rivers,

With tears that she shed!

She meant to comfort me,

Aware of depths of it,

My answer was simple:

“Planted, now harvest!

Full of joy, in wonder

Badly I, needed help.

For start sent some texts,

Penny is cake maker,

Sought her help.

Not knowing my reason, 

Worriedly, she answered,

Felt her voice, infectious.

“No worries my friend,”

I hurried and calmed her:

“For a cake, I need help.”

With the helm in my hand,

I went on, explained:

“I drove to Delta, 

Stopped at some garden,

Pictures, my intention,

Came woman, I feared,

That she might object it,

Garden was private…”

I stopped and could paint,

Shocked Penny with her hair,

Standing on its tail…

“She took me for a tour,

I spoke with husband,

She showed me flowers,

And I was like camel,

Thirsty and in desert,

Felt seeing cold water,

Kept taking more pictures.”

Penny’s chest was like jail,

To her words and breath.

“Want to buy them a cake,”

I said and sought the help.

On his way to go out

He stopped for a talk.

The core of his work is:

“Finding, fighting racists,

Using words, preaching!”

Looked at wall in front,

And smiled and told him: 

“The surface for painting?”

He stared wondering, 

I went on speaking:

“Lifestyle needs changing, 

Our hearts, minds and thinking, 

Since they are depths of seas!”

I showed him a message,

On WhatsApp, had received,

There, people were dancing.

Voice over, I told him:

“Men, women of Iran,

Are in line to depart…”

Then after, explained:

“To receive injection,

Sputnik of Russians

Not at home but outside,

In the lands of neighbors!”

I could see in his eyes:

“Here, you, are begging,

Every old, young, and kid

To go in, get vaccine!

Had a call from the,

Overseas, long distance:

“Am alive, thanks heavens.”

He had asked my address,  

Was worried about them.

While thinking, came question:

“Have escaped? Are on way?”

The news, media

Have added flavor,

To the burning stake!

Said to me, my friend: 

“Our den forbids jackals,

From the Soviets, USA, 

To harm us, cause damage, 

Then keep tails between legs!” 

For about an hour,

We spoke and chatted,

Of Russia, Britain,

Growth of USA,

And egos, invasions,

And walking on others,

When alive, sick, or dead…

Liked part of his comment:

“Our land is in mountains,

Behind the heights, gorges,

People are different…”

His message was simple:

“Britain burned our nests,

And pushed us in a cage,

We are wolves, and lions,

And pigeons and vultures,

All the talks are dead-end, 

Pave no road, passages,

How can we be a nation?”

Prepared my poem,

Meant to write about the:

“Infinite flowers,

In endless farm, garden,

Butterflies everywhere,

Flapping little wings,

Constantly flying,

Like winter snowflakes,

Soft, cute and tender!” 

But the books, articles

Online and in papers,

Stole my attention:

“Canada’s veterans!”

Saw many dots, puzzles,

Drew lines, connected,

Landed in USA…

Then flew my plane,

To Bagram…

There, observed,

Genocide and corpses!

Chatted with the soldiers,

NCOs and Majors:

“Came here on mission!”

Nobody had reason,

Not even the leaders!

Felt that words had fled, 

From mouth to ear…

Saw blood, children’s, 

Elderly’s and women’s,

In rivers, and mountains,

Thanks to the veterans!

Sounded wild and weird,

With the whiskey, beer

Bag in hand, once again,

See myself walking there.

In bazaar, Kandahar

Plenty are poor shops,

Among them many guns.

Look at the rich stocks,

The new, old, short, long,

Pistols and machineguns,

Also, sell hatchets, knives!

Shocked, I am surprised,

Feel jitter in eyeballs:

“Being so in our time?”

A Pashtu, Hazara,

And driver, myself,

Hurry up with dread!

But today, after years,

Feel as if have returned,

Same sellers, teenagers!

Dear friends at the beach,

Those who talk and preach,

Speaking soft, sweet,

Close eyes, framing, 

Warmonger in painting, 

With bullets, thundering!

Is time to null, stop,

The evil companies!

Withdraw your savings!

Please halt supporting! 

Being part and working

With the ones like Boeing,

Winchester and Lockheed, 

Means killing, murdering!

Talk is of surrender,

Withdrawal, return.

I think of injured, death.

I think of jailed women.

I was there and saw them,

I stood and watched the

Wasps, flies, cockroaches

On cut hand, being fed!

Nobody seems to care,

Strangers, neighbors,

Nor Europe, USA!

Kabul, her government,

Are the balls in a game!

I was there!

I was there!

I was there!

I was in restaurant,

Woman came with her son,

Kicked her out Taliban!

Saw boys were treated,

Like the birds in cages,

Like few lambs, chickens,

Delivered to shepherd:

“Take them out to graze!”

And saw them when returned,

The barber shaved their heads!

Left alone and cornered,

Shah Masood gave order:

“Detonate roads, tunnels,

And all the bridges!”

Only way to be safe

Listening, I watched them,

Carefully, read of them,

Came to conclusion:

“Better learn from the

Swedish behavior,

Try hard for success,

Avoid wasting nights, days!”

Some claim that science,

Is like torch and candle, 

Like Sunlight and Moonlight,

Doubtlessly are not right!

Either they, mean to lie,

Or know not and are lost,

Anyway they are wrong!

Look at the fish, seabirds, 

And the sharks and the whales.

Look at them floating,

On the waves, dead, injured.

Look at the temperatures,

And Lytton on fire.

Look at the Pandemic,

And the manmade virus.

Look at the Ozon and,

Its being on our land!

These are, all, of science,

Despite its advancements.

Even if man landed,

On the Moon and headed,

Far beyond the stars…

Even if we drive,

And cross the oceans,

To fly, have planes,

Mankind made disaster!

By no means science is,

Like Moonlight or Sunlight!

Science is disaster!

Have easel and canvas,

Words are paint, brushes.

On something am working,

To last as masterpiece.

Both rider and his horse 

Are painted for the war. 

His name is Spirit:

“Agent, come and join!”

The man of pen rejects,

Was racist? Or afraid?

The hero cares, repeats: 

“Brother, come please.”

Related is agent,

To Cree, Frog Lake’s.

Is trained specialist:

“Who are you but nothing?”

The rider pulls his gun, 

Aims at him, shoots Thomas.

The hero with friends

Set the church on fire: 

“This place is rotten!”

Settlers’ articles:

“The brainless savage

Needs to learn his lesson!”

Then workers of churches 

With help of government,

Behaved like abattoir, 

Forced the kids in den-jails, 

Exactly like chickens,

Bloody is canvas in a frame! 

No more I shall write of

Fallen lambs on roadsides,

If turn wolves with rabies!

I heard them when herded,

Pleaded, pleaded, pleaded!

Shepherds were brutal,

Even worse, those at top!

Remember hit and run?

Remember making fun?

Remember those insults?

What about when you said:

“Will hang you by the balls!”

I recall when heard them,

Complained of hunger,

Of having no shelter.

I saw you, can picture,

As if was yesterday…

Chest forward and head up,

Selfishly you walked tall: 

“Why should I care at all?”

Heard them beg, mouths dry, 

Their voices weak and soft,

You played own drums…

Saw many girls around,

Among them, you had fun, 

Kept drinking red wine…

With power, got drunk!

Many of poor lambs died, 

Some fought and stood up,  

Turned to wolf with rabies! 

Lunar Month Ramadhan

Can come in summertime.

I recall one summer,

It was hot, hot as hell.

My father was Muslim,

And true believer.

To him, fast was real:

“Do not eat, instead,

Save it and give away,

To the poor, be a help.”

Copycat, I fasted!

Smart was my mother,

She tricked me and said: 

“Break it, I will sew,

The two parts with needle!” 

Mom was home, not father,

She gave me an address:

“Your father must be there.”

Many farms on my way,

In them wheat was golden,  

And ready for harvest.

Went and went a long way, 

Finally, found father,

Was alone with sickle,

Red kerchief on his face,

Squat, he gathered,

Straws and cut them!

Was kind and devoted,

To home and to others,

By being good Muslim,

Unlike most of mullahs,

Abusers and lairs!

Was in my twenties,

When I made a movie.

I look back to compare, 

Vey past with today.

Crazy, was concerned, 

And disliked injustice,

Misery and hunger!

Named my film:

“Crumble!”

Or “A bite.” 

Travel of grain,

To be food on table

After market, kitchen,

Then ending in garbage!

This body saw changes,

But the heart has remained,

Pure, child’s, as was then…

Sun is out,

And is hot.

All around

Are skins.

Mainly of

The ladies!

Mostly are, 

Too sexy!

Do they know?

Purposely?

In my palm is my head

I stand motionless…

Look at us in the mirror,

See questions making wave.

A nightmare, delusion!

Ask of our duties:

“Children and parents?

And between partners?

Citizen and neighbors?”

Mass of waves modulate, 

Lowest to crescent, 

And I watch the phases,

Then HF to AM and FM! 

See myself and my head,

Confused, slandered,

Where are we? In desert?

Xay Teluk stands there,

His hands are extended,

Welcoming every guest.

Hamilton’s black bag 

Has writings in the red: 

“The end of McDonald!”

Gidlow writes her poem,

She names it: “I, Lover:”

“Am afraid? No, never!”

To some is too shameless,

I call it: “Changing wave!”

Look at Malcolm, lover,

And Mary turned Shelly, 

Then Zuleikha-Joseph,

Ferdowsi’s Siavash… 

Go online and Google,

USA, Britain, turned UK.

No stop; search further,

Soviet Union,

And China of today.

I warn you, be aware,

May lose your religion!

Thank you but no thanks,

To you, politicians, Royals

For being shameful cause.

Eagerly was in search,

To find my ancestors,

Ending with Zoroaster.

Encountered Maneckji,

Read of his date of birth, 

His actions to his death, 

He, too is, suspicious!

His parents, Zoroastrians

Ran away, refuged,

So, he, an Indian

Chose to be an agent,

For rulers of London…

Even if loved Iran,

Even if he meant it,

Still is suspicious!

The Iran’s Zoroastrians

And Prairie’s reserves, 

Are treated the same:  

“Colonized must obey,

Laws written by winners!” 

Said Malcolm, Napier:

“The Zoroastrians suffer!

Main purpose of my job,

Was logistic flight…

I was an officer,

Second, first lieutenant 

To becoming major…

Visited world around,

Thanks to that sort of job.

Read and paid attention, 

Discovered because cared!

Now, old dog in dark den,

I look back, remember,

Flashbacks of gone days!

Then flew V. I. H.

For Shah and King Hussein,

Shook hands of some leaders,

Listened, heard the looters,

Both in and out sights,

As liaison officer!

Mostly served the corrupts,

When flew peace and war!

With the books as friends,

Knew then as knew now:

“Fish rotten from head!”

Slogan in London, 

On the arch of Subway:

“Down with shah!” 

Rightly said Sir Acton,

The higher go leaders

The more are corrupted!

Wish had not seen to learn,

Ignorance is bliss!

 Music of Andes,

Symphonia playing,

One beer, I feel good. 

Real Free

It is said: “Be free like a bird!”

Free is lousy panhandler…

Saw him walk, did not care,

Was free…birds are caged! 

Need a hug and cuddle,

Need friend with shoulder,

Need somewhere to rest head.

Am tired!

Am tired! 

Am tired!

Black is my elbow,

Peeled skin off fingers, 

Hot tray has burned them!

The palms of hands thickened,

The soles, heels, have hardened, 

Skin of concrete is cover to flesh!

When remember women, 

Laborers, working there,

Want to head for deserts, 

Become waves in oceans,

In night’s cave hide away!

Want to shout, be thunder:

“Why the hell injustice?”

Need whispers of friends, 

And comfort of shoulders.

See the same laborers,

Cheating like gravel,

To last long and be safe,

Walk on their own friends!

I shout and heart breaks: 

“Why the hell be steps,

For the Goddamn master?”

Shattered into pieces,

Need a hug and cuddle,

Need friend with shoulder,

Need the chain of mountains.

I listen to most talks,

For reading, spend time, 

Read from lefts and rights.

Rather stay neutral, 

Prefer not to categories.

When science talks of life, 

Non-mammals and mammals,

Earth, oceans, and the ponds

To the worms, birds, and rocks, 

Think about the anting crows, 

Curious, I remain mesmerized!

Feel worse than ancestors,

Without tools and science…

Thanks to churches, shrines,

Synagogues and the mosques,

Have rejected their God…

But also need someone,

For times that am alone, 

To cry, ask question:

“How did it all happen?”

Wish could find replacement,

For the “Big Bang” banner…

No, no, no to books of

Abraham and his likes,

Lie priests and rabbis,

Even worse are mullahs!

“Ignorance is bliss,”

Lucky are the women,

Who work at conveyors!

They cheat, steal, little,

From time; long breaks,

Get home when dead tired! 

Saw a she goat use her tongue,

Saw a vegetarian leaking blood!

She leaked her baby,

Still connected to umbilical

And weakly, fallen on the ground…

And in a total loss,

I was, mesmerized!

I have seen the cat, the dog, and the lion, 

They cleaned, caressed, comforted,

Using their tongues…

My kiss came to mind,

The French one…

My tongue roamed in her mouth,

And I, am mesmerized…

What is love?

Tongue and love?

And read of Emily Dickenson,

And read of the Paulin Johnson,

Heard the lover Forough Farrokhzad:

“No, no, you are wrong, you make it up,

To digest it, you interpret it, how you want!”

And I wonder:

Care?

Love?

Lover?

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

Am not ant on the leaf,

And fallen, off tree,

In fear, and shouting!

Wear a tiny backpack,

Roam around country,

See the cows in dairy,

And those in bakery,

To planes and the ships, 

See people travelling,

And others while biking!

Everywhere is commerce,

Ninety-nine, one percent,

With clocks, and marking:

“Employed, am working!”

Those in the palaces

Are busy accumulating! 

Those in farms, factories

Are machines, surviving!

Time clock is set so

Even walk to the door

Laborers must afford!

Abuse is everywhere,

Abuse of cows, cattle,

Abuse of lamb, chicken,

Abuse of the workers,

And all the immigrants!

Media broadcast

The news but alas

If among accepted

And after the censor.

Tiananmen, Belarus,

Indicate use of boots,

But Tulsa and Kamloops 

Are, in the jars, in darkness! 

Want to write a poem,

Same as wrote an essay,

“The Road to Wigan Pier!”

At the end mentioned “Che!”

Result was obvious:

Anger makes rebellion!

Took me, to the scale:

Figures say: “Overweight!”

It is not fat, flesh,

Is weight of heart’s kettle,

Blood boils and thickens!

The Tulsa’s massacre,

The Kamloops, children,

Palestine, Israel,

And Yemen, forgotten,

Syria on fire,

By Russia, USA,

They compete and wrestle: 

“Sell more tanks, jet planes!” 

Kill the bear and deer,

Preserve ecosystem! 

This causes overweight,

Not eating, sleep, rest!

Want to shout but silence,

Overcomes, I question: 

“Which is worse,

Politics, business?”

Pen, dizzy, loses own way, 

With British Home Children:

“Shipped to the Commonwealth?”

My answer was simple:

Then Royals, now, U.S. cause unrest! 

  Hope is not what I thought,

Hope is love for the young.

Hope is dart for bikers,

And RVs and campers.

Wrong was first encounter,

Like man who discovered:

“Residents of village 

Are blind! All of them!”

Had mission to research,

Met three on his way,

Blind men, so, returned:

“Residents of village 

Are blind! All of them!”

I questioned a couple,

A woman and husband,

From Hope, complained.

Hope stands by river,

Riverside has jungles,

Plenty are mountains,

And art of woodcarvers.

Our sisters,

His and mine!

His is alive,

Forever, all the time.

His father worked for shah,

Our father worked in the farms.

His could afford operating her nose,

She fixed her nose because,

Shah told her: “Is big, like mine!”

My sister lived as if never born,

She was an ignored,

Even by her own mother!!!

Hear me people,

I tell you to:

“Rewrite,

Rewrite, Rewrite.”

Rewrite the history,

Rewrite the biographies.

Write another Old Testament,

Amusing, and filled with lies.

Act as did the liar in a village,

Lie as did that trickster,

Or the charlatan, or magician.

He told my sister:

“It is the work of demon!”

Demon, as he said,

Killed her children!

She died as if never born,

She gave her life to defend,

The born and unborn children!

Helpless were pain killers,

Or the pens and paper! 

I collapsed breathless,

Acted like dumb and deaf, 

Could not write, finish, end, 

What he called and mentioned!

Call from the Texas 

Spoke of fences, walls,

And borders, and Cold War:

“Their device to kill us!”

I met him in Russia, 

Then one of officials

From the UN’s side!

His father was a Khan,

Is quite nice, smart, 

Now drives the trucks!

Talked politely and shy:

“This is how can survive,

Disgust it as my job!”

Already meant to write,

He added some spice! 

My colleagues in UN

Had many clients, 

In Russia’s Petersburg,

So, he was rejected!!!

I reread his file, 

Now is USA… 

Confused, desperate,

His sister, old mother, 

In the Yankees’ culture 

Were in shock, unaware!

My mouth has frozen,

All the words are lifeless,

Are confined to jail’s cells, 

Superpowers make borders,

How to write, what to say?

Once, Brits and Russia

Marked a land as Afghans’: 

“Neutral Zone between us!” 

Big part of this landlock, 

Is target for the bombs,

So, is a testing ground, 

For all sides in Cold War!

His impaired old sister 

Is in Balkh, has remained! 

The mother’s oldest son, 

Was kidnapped and murdered,

Ashgabat destroyed her youngest! 

Enemies evil law

For killing old Iran:  

“Vaporize, hang cultures, 

Plow wrong, then harvest!” 

Among the warmongers 

Afghans’ blood is worthless!

Governments there are like, 

A day, nights seasons of

North Pole the dusk, dawn!

Plenty, like caller’s 

Siblings, old mother,

Are in pain and suffer! 

He, Muslim, Hazara,

In cold war, lost father,

With Reagan, Gorbachev, 

Mingling skies, Earth,

Went dreams, hope, friends! 

She and I chose table,

Sat ordered hamburger.

While there and in waiting

We spoke, kept chatting.

Liked looking in her eyes,

They sampled seas, skies.

Rippled her pupils,

As if were two dead waves:

“Beauty means woman!”

Her hair a midday sun

Soft, floating, bright…

Her forehead, eyebrows, 

Eyelashes, cheeks to mouth,

Were covered with makeup,

Beige powder and cream,

Wore rosy lipstick…

Suddenly a cloud 

Covered her, she was out,

Faded in ex-colleague,

Worker of bakery,

A sad and old painting!

She, new immigrant

Came from poverty,

Of makeup had nothing!

Both her eyes and her hair,

Were black and despair!

She worked hard, I helped her,

Pushed the bins, bags, bread,

Motor turned and crushed,

All the garbage and junk, 

That became food, cattle’s,

Hamburger was trash, plastic!  

Found a job, finally,

With a large bakery! 

Soon after I noticed:

“Such living is not me!”

Not for me!

Not for me!

World around, I have been,

Hunger, thirst, I have seen!

Is too hard to observe,

Dough, bread, go to waste!

I have seen, people with

The draught and famine,

Harvesting shortages

Of crop and the wheat!

Saw them eating barley!

But in large factory

The rulers are machines,

Men, women, hardly think,

They obey the setting!

Workers are like camels,

Blinded, turning mill,

Round and round, like Mary,

They crush cotton seeds,

Have no rights of talking!

Commercial factories

Have no heart, do not see,

They lecture, assure me: 

“We are kind and thinking,

We help poor, and in need, 

Feed cattle with the waste!”

Here, I am misfit!

One word poem  

Am looking for a word,

A simple plain word,

Like maybe, yes, or no.

It can be verb, adverb,

Adjective, proverb,

Whatever, valuable!

Want to call it: “Poem,”

Treasure and concise in open.

Want it to be simple,

To the top and lower!

Synonyms, accepted,

Must define the wetness!

May have felt and may not,

Falling of raindrop,

In mid of summertime,

On scorched, burning dust.

Require, am in search,

For word that explains,

The changes, the smell,

Earth hosting new guest, 

Everything that happens, 

And the feelings, we get…

Is drop’s death a life?

Can it be “Devotion?”

Can it be “Sacrifice?”

Can it be “Resilience?”

Can it be “Tolerance?”

All in all, “Survival?”

“Petrichor,” I am told!

Can I call it poem?

Though single, is it well? 

Satisfied? I am not, anymore! 

Century, to many

Is figure, like others,

Before it, and after

A one…then…

Not for me and neither

For a tortured, murdered,

And buried in the caves,

In Tulsa and elsewhere,

Or exiled… 

Via mountains, waters!

Century is long time,

If abused and deprived,

From the rights of life,

As Native, mother, child,

Or a daughter, old, young!

I am well-aware since,

Ancestors have suffered,

For thousands of the years,

By locals, invaders…

I am a particle,

Risen high and fallen, 

Too many times, again,

Of, from life’s grace!

I am an ancient one,

From the Babylon

Or Elam, Siberia,

My friends in Tulsa

I know the meaning of

Century, since it meant,

Same to me, ancestors…

It means: “Run for shelter,

On your back a worn shirt,

And all roads end in Rome, 

You and dog share same den!” 

Is it a week already?

Lost track of the time! 

Does it matter?

I mean to them, 

To the kids,

Those murdered!

Want to write,

But what?

Do not dare,

Try to count,

Hundreds? Thousands?

Millions? Trillions? Zillions?

What are these shoes?

What are these toys?

Cannot fool me,

With the candles burning,

With the papers filling pages,

With the tango that wind dances,

With Ottawa’s half-mast flag! 

Is it a week already?

Is it a month?

Is it a year? A decade?

A century? Or centuries?

With clinched fists, my thoughts roar: 

“Paint the European progress, 

The genocides, Red Rivers, 

In ravines, sail of the Noah’s Arch!” 

My heart says:

“Date goes back to the 

Days of steam engines

And textile machines,

And the gun that killed!”

Today I, 

After long,

Went shopping,

I purchased ice cream.

It is made from milk,

Milk of cows I know well…

They are like the people, 

Plato’s, in the cave, 

Know not sun!

They are fooled,

Angry, I feel them!

Trained to go to line,

For little sweet hay?

Machine-wash the nipples,

Sterilized, milking them?

What is life, birth to death?

Being born for abuse? 

Where is joy, motherhood?

Where do end children?

Parted to be robot and return? 

And the man who buys, sells:

“What are they? Animals!”

Did not man say the same?

Of slaves? Indigenous?

Lucky are mentioned cows,

They eat hay even if electronic,

The worse eat garbage, bread, 

In bags of plastic, recycled,  

Such cattle end in the hamburger! 

Want to shout and rebel,

Against mankind’s system!

  For months, years, 

we shouted:

“They kill us with censor!”

You smiled, went away,

Now, thanks to Internet,

See that you, too, 

suffer! 

Arrived for conference,

Already, she was there.

Six of us were to be,

We spoke while waiting.

She drives to Langley, 

Starts work too early,

From silver morning.

“Am mother and cannot,

Work any other time…

”Was enough, to tell me...

Back at home, cleaning,

Running life, and cooking,

For husband, and their kids!

Bravo, you, woman!

To you I, lift my hat! 

Want to write a poem,

Same as wrote an essay,

“The Road to Wigan Pier!”

At the end mentioned “Che!”

Result was obvious:

Anger makes rebellion!

Took me, to the scale:

Figures say: “Overweight!”

It is not fat, flesh,

Is weight of heart’s kettle,

Blood boils and thickens!

The Tulsa’s massacre,

The Kamloops, children,

Palestine, Israel,

And Yemen, forgotten,

Syria on fire,

By Russia, USA,

They compete and wrestle: 

“Sell more tanks, jet planes!” 

Kill the bear and deer,

Preserve ecosystem! 

This causes overweight,

Not eating, sleep, rest!

Want to shout but silence,

Overcomes, I question: 

“Which is worse,

Politics, business?”

Pen, dizzy, loses own way, 

With British Home Children:

“Shipped to the Commonwealth?”

My answer was simple:

Then Royals, now, U.S. cause unrest! 

I recall when my Mom,

Praying, asked her God,

For my foes to be dumb!

Democrats are lucky,

Their foe is Marjorie,

Deep and far, fingering

In the nest of power,

That stings poisonous, 

For biting has big fangs!

Of “History,” I keep thinking,

Makes me sit, keep laughing!

Look at the books in the shelves,

Well preserved, thin, thick, covered!

And the librarian declares:

“Are ancient and valuable!”

I laugh like crazy,

Tears keep falling,

No, am not crying!

From Nazca, Tabas 

Lift capsules to space, 

Astronauts are united, 

With the eyes of brain, 

We visualize, remember…

Remember the stones,

Small, large, all chiseled,

Flat-faced, and with curves.

Some have many layers,

As if books with pages!

Crash land in the desert,

We encounter mud vases!

To them we are strangers, 

Khayyam’s is the greatest:

“Once this vase was like me,

Love-filled, tied to the misery,

And that handle, was a hand, 

Around the neck of his angel.”

“History?” I question, know,

Is not in those books, written,

For the cruel royals, emperors, 

And the lies, gilded by Tsars,

Overall, history is in rebellions! 

Today is, day, in which, 

I hear demanding:

“You better go confess!”

Today I, feel am caught, 

By limbo, in my mind:  

“Do I have to confess?”

Today I listen to 

View of Ms. Manstey…

Today I watch part of

Rear Window of Hitchcock!

Today I, must reread,

Some poems of Shamlu…

All of them, in a way,

Compare the prison, freedom!

“The crowd, so many,
Fill the cells, squares!” 

And I am…as I was…

In limbo of right, wrong

 You talk of Abraham,

Are you deaf? Or a Dumb? 

Guess you are kind of both!

Far too long, you ignored, 

Slogan: “Yankee…home!” 

Take your knee off my neck,

Then observe what happens! 

By trunk, used trunk, 

To eat of treetop.

Stepped on tiny ant,

It cricked, was cracked!

After time little one, 

Crawled in the eye of…

Elephant that lost sight,

Found no food, therefore, died! 

Honestly, I envy,

The birds when gliding.

Some flap, and rudder,