Scape Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Scape

Finally, …
-in Nineteen-Ninety-Nine
-my lawyer proved wrong
-justice as injustice
-I parted prison!

Law tattooed my skin:
- "Prisoner…"

The world was blind, deaf
-to "He is innocent…"

I chose roads and sidewalks
-calmly walked with head down,
-thinking how to unite
-with kids and lovely wife.

I went to ‘Embassy.'
-Showed papers, empathy
-and proof of our needs.

Wrong I was since in fact,
-I had kicked a hard wall
-inside which were some dolls
-and puppets and chess pawns!
-They showed me their teeth since
-they lacked heart, and brain!

Not only gave no key
-that welded the locked door
-with all and every hinge.

Once again prisoner
-this time with consciousness;
-I walked and took much time
-to act right and be nice.

The tattoos and stamps
-were like light and laser:
- "He is a criminal! "
-I knew that was not!

-I became a scape
-grew wild, ran away…

Turned and wound constantly
-seeking some fresh air
-and enough of water.

"Go! "
"Go! "
"Go! "

Said friends and Yahya…

I sat in bus to south
-headed for Zahedan.

As only passenger
-this trip was lesson:
- "The owner, driver,
-smuggled passengers! "

The Afghan Refugees
-paid better than any…

Bus carried the goods too,
-which crossed the border
-by the law breakers,
-professional racketeers!

In this game the poor was
-like Arab for Lawrence
- (worth less than own camel!)

When time came to cross
-I felt like swimming
-not with but, into waves.

They came, I departed!

Felt being a ‘Scape'!

Area was war zone
-I headed for the hell.

Could face a fire-brigade
-if caught by Taliban
-or forces of Iran!

Either would see me as
- "Spy for other side! "

I found me moving but
-not leaving parents' house.

To me, that border is
-nothing but a noose
-enforced on siblings
-to run to sides of line!

Mine, I see both Kabul and Herat
-theirs must be Kermanshah and Tehran.
-We, all, own Samarkand, Bukhara.

We have been, always are
-one nation in blood,
-divided by the force of others!

Grateful, I pray to heavens
-for trips that I made
-it was gift, a bless
-by men and by women
-without heart, brainless
-in Dubai, Embassy
-and Iran's injustice!

Would have not been as wise
-had I not seen and gone
-to the homes and houses
-which I went, when on run;
- (fugitive and homeless, illegal!)

I went and was received
-by the kind and simple
-Dons, Damas, residents
-whose lives were limited
-but a hosts, traditional, generous.

Thanks to dumb governments
-I faced and encountered
-men, women, children
-regardless of ages
-treated brutal.

Moscow is as shitty
-as have been Washington,
-Abu Dhabi and Riyadh
-to Paris and London
-and many with parts in
-rattling swords and guns.

Poor are the people who
-live under rubbles of
-the testing war-grounds.

They can be anywhere
-Venezuela, Cuba,
-Afghanistan and Iraq,
-Central Asia
-to the Ex-Yugoslavia.

Worse from wounded, hurt
-and trapped or injured
-are the kind who have faith.

Such people intend to give help but
-introduced: "Betrayer and Puppet! "
-They think of helping hands: "Angelic"
-while in fact, are nothing but devil's.

Close look at helping "USAID"
-reveals more of killing and murder!

I, deeply, worry for, sympathise,
-with them and empathise
-with "White Helmets", Syria's.

Though meant good, are homeless,
-with help of MOSSAD and USAID!