Nassy Fesharaki Poems

Her right hand
Mid finger and index
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Let us write on the tree of the shark I have seen and the shahs visited, dead, alive from Ahmad to Nadir and much more...
Let us write on the walls with pencil, with the chalk and charcoal as we did when were child, you and I and kids around.more...
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Long ago I was told
The full knows nothing of the hungry

I was also told
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In Thailand where the King is the God
Capital is Bangkok
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As easy as pen write
We met and had talk
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Loudest

My loudest poem is the most distant
It is the loneliest, harmless; quietest
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Have you ever

Have you ever
Stood by ant-hole
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She sings
In her neck I can see
Blood cells bubble in veins,
(I used to see this in Hana Spring)
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With the games of borders
Who is who, what is what?
The Sergey’s history
Is funny; tragedy
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Like a chick
I want to beak, break the shell
I want to get out and want to kick
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