Dynamic Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Dynamic

We flew logistics
Carried food, and the arms, everything.
Passengers were Rangers, and soldiers
Both lively and wounded, also dead in casket.

Our singer Dynamic
A young girl and Petit
Smiled when got on board
Confused, first timer.
Her dress was descent
So was length, of skirt.

“Pull it up a little…” said Aref.
“These young men are soldiers.”
He would be now replaced
Said to her, briefed her.
He is a nationalist, to marrow.
“Give them life, it won’t kill.”
He said and referred to:
“This can mean their last look.”
And it was; many times.

This was all, in Mid-Way
(In mountains, oasis, Salalah)
It was base for the war
Against the communists
(In Yemen)
Had to be united for God’s sake.
(Preachers in London; USA)

Now they are history
(Unwritten as Mohawks’ and Incas’)
What if I, do not write?
It will be like the church; Aboriginals
Raped and killed and looted
Young and old and buried in rubble.

That will be, too cruel…