Gas Chamber Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Gas chamber

I met him after years
Obvious was his age
The peaceful Daniel
Had differed as never!

Every word was a sword
Full of rage and anger
Like flames in deserts.

"Had I been among the audience
Would have gone, grab her by her hair
Smash her to ground and kill her! "

I listened in wonder;
Dynamite but silent
And he was trigger...

"The woman was shameless
When she talked of slaves…"

He comes of Haiti
So, black in nature
Descendant of slaves…

"Though it is my homeland
And love her as mother
I carry sort of guilt
To replace old owners
Those murdered by Europe…"

Every word that he said
Was a sort of spark
Thrown to woods and hay.

"Either are unaware
And full of ignorance
Or truly bastards…"

I stared at his hair
On the head and beard;
Black ones were now rare!

"The woman was a bitch
On channel of TV…
Blind to every fact
And master to erase
All others' burdens, pains
To enlarge what is theirs
Like victims of Hitler
And the sad gas-chambers! "

With spoon in his hand
He dug for caramel
From the McDonald's.

"I would have sympathised
If she had not mentioned
Story of slaves…"

I heard him; recognised
The woman had defined:
"The masters took them far
And gave them new life
With great new jobs
In houses and in farms…"

"The woman is sample
Of White-man and the pale
That make up stories
And ignores truths, right…"

Daniel, a French speaker
Talks sweet with accent
In moments short of words;
He moved hands to his back
Then showed me his ankles
To tell me how Blacks
Were removed and taken
In handcuffs and shackled.

Exploded like bomb;
Volcano of his mouth
As do monsoons' floods
But with burns; of lava!