Métis Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Métis

You call me what you want
You are dumb, inside wall and blind.
Your grade, grading, is nothing but small.

I am…
I forgot.

I am too much and too mixed
I am so deep enriched and antique
With the past and the cells and teachings
That have roots in the cave and desert and sea deep.

Most recent…I am Métis
In French, Mestizo, Spanish and Hybrid, English
But Mir-Za in Farsi.

All funny…

I am, I
One of us….
What you say?
Ignore it…disregard.

I am urn, clay jar; full of wine
A long way from home, grape, vine.

But I feel thirst of vine in the sun
And I feel squeezed in the pot
Also feel being blood
Poured to serve
Some lovers
Or power
And the
Lies.

I am Métis
I am filled, traumas
The genes come from past
Long, long past and all sides
Each side makes; intergenerational.