As If Never Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

As if never

For many days and nights
Have been carved to start,
I feel like full-stop,
Or a horse tied to cart!

Truly try hard,
Yet, cannot go forward,
Surprised, mesmerized:
"What can be real cause? "

Can I be a horse or,
A donkey, shepherd dog?

Feel myself braying,
Am barking very loud,
Still, gate remains locked.

Are my legs in shackle?
Are my eyes in blind?
Have I gone crazy?

Why cannot move forward?

Am afraid?
What is wrong?
Am I now a slave?
If not, why powerless?

My vessel has capsized,
In currents am drowned!

Cannot move, go forward!
Maybe I, am Atlas! ?
World, globe, on my back! ?

Featherless and in cage
They inject my brain:
"Here is your border,
This national and anthem,
Support your government! "

What am I? A slave?
Some cattle? Branded?
Why passport is honor?

For long lived and I
Hosted, was invited
To dine with the others,
Found joy in meeting them:
"Male, female, children
Of mankind, all the same! "

Since see us equal
Bowing to such orders
Makes me feel like "Slave! "

I neither was one nor
Accept to be one or
Stamps "Yes, " forever!

You may call me rebel,
Free, mad, whatever!

I do not dare reject:
"Some of us are devils! "

The sad and happy parts
Always are side by side:
"In one line to fill Earth! "

What will be said of us?
Depends on speaker!

Mostly be forgotten,
Unless leave a trace!

Why not go to Dubai?
Let me be tour leader,
Pay attention, listen:
"I am an experienced."

I like "Road, Not Taken! "
Prepared, well-trained
For it, I, have been made!

Particle of the dust in cloud,
I will be camouflaged,
And trip shall start,
Regardless of where, why,
Or when, how we may fall.

In times with Robert Frost
We sit, chat for short, long,
We talk of road, not gone!

Sun lowers, becomes dusk,
Horizon acts as knife
Cuts the sun's piece of pie.

Then, we may go for walk.

Encounter caravans'
Tracks, there on dirt land,
Each of us at the fork
Chooses, find path, track!

I take "Road, Not Taken! "
Since, for it, I am made,
Prepared and trained…

Being the village child,
Grew in shattered life.

I ended in the town,
Felt being dust, cloud,
Or steam, snow, ice,
Or maybe hail, frost…

That is why I feel like
Am puppet, ball, clown,
Or small simple pawn…

Many roads did not take,
Many roads were teachers.

Always lived in shock of:
"Shortage to organize! "

Like slopes of mountain,
With valleys and gorges
Varied were my moments!

At the ends of each fork,
Roads became pathways,
My heart kicked in the chest,
Brain felt on fire:
"Which one is hell, heaven? "

Yet, the root of village
And belief in culture
Hid in dark, demanded:
"You decide, be the best! "

Remember first two forks:
"Bye village, Hello town;
Bye homeland, my Iran! "

I settled in Dubai,
Copying Abraham

Holding tight to Sara,
Following caravan,
Of dreams, hope, plans
For later, England!

Was, glued to desert,
Rained on me the lessons,
That tied me to settle,
And the faults invaded!

I speak from depths,
It may sound a wonder,
To the online readers
Since they know of surface,
Which is made-up and fake!

Was lucky, or bad luck?
Drove fast, hit a car,
Was taken to answer,
The causes and reasons.

This became life changer,
Nephew of Sheikh Rashid
Had grown hair, beard,
For showing objection.

Had claim to sheikhdom:
"I am Sheikh, righteousness,
Not cousins and uncle! "

He spoke, I listened,
Heard Dubai, Bur Dubai:
"First is mine, theirs, latter! "

Had to choose Frost's "Road, "
Yes, the "Road Not Taken! "

Behind bars? Meeting Sheikh?
His arrest? Injustice?

With the "Road Not Taken, "
Opened eye, gained knowledge!

Though city, Emirate
Is small, pocket-size,
Plenty are crimes!

I pictured small lake,
In it pounds of water
A willow at its edge,
A branch is lowered,
It kisses water's face,
Scatters many waves,
People see the surface!

There, a boy, playful
Acts as does little child,
Picks a tiny pebble,
Then throws in water.

It is me, am drowned,
I descend to bottom,
Rest at the bed of lake!

Abandoned is young Sheikh,
Far from windows, gates,
Thanks to Dad's brother,
His uncle, Sheikh Rashid
Until he signs consent:
"I chose to retire…"

This will be one of the
Small waves on surface,
Main one is Sheikh Rashid!

Risky are the tracks,
Of the "Road Not Taken! "

The books of history
Are good in blocking
The losers' stories!

Know not if the young sheikh,
Signed the consent papers?
Or he died in darkness?

This is "Road Not Taken, "
To talk loud, clear,
To show facts of Dubai!

Am untied from chairs,
Left behind the old cave,
"Plato's obsession! "

Encountered sun outside,
Saw galaxies, stars!

Kept searching on and on
Researched on Dubai's life.

Went to the museum,
Received some articles,
Most of them in secret!

Robin Moore's book, "Dubai! "
Came to me tightly wrapped!

His book and me, pebble
Had to rest at lake's bed,
Both buried and hidden,
By the waves of willow!

All the books store lies,
Winners write about us,
When one surf for truth,
Not even one is found!

History, like jacket
Is made of top, linen!

History like trees
Is exposed and revealed,
By trunks and their boughs!

To feel taste, be cured
We must consume fruits
From their cores, and roots!

Having lived in mountains,
And plains and jungles,
Prairies and elsewhere,
Have no awe, nor wonder,
When see the facts covered!

Am open to colors,
Seeing painted fighters,
They know of reflections!

Some artists on stage,
Do the same, paint faces!

That is since the people:
Mainly look at surface!

The same is with Dubai!

Painted is Dubai's life,
Online is camouflaged,
To cover lights of sun!

Having heard man in jail
Talking of Sheikh Rashid,
To consent that Dubai,
Too, belongs to uncle,
Raised in me the question:
"And after Sheikh Rashid? "
He died and oldest son
Took the ruling throne.

Soon after, he too, died,
Hamdan was second son.

He vanished as did the
First son's sons and daughters.

And Hamadan?

Here comes secret's shade:
"History, rewritten! "

Hamdan was too great,
He married and Dubai,
Enjoyed big celebrate!

Surprise, surprise
He vanished, such Hamdan? !

Read of dogs, coyotes,
Mohammad, is ruling,
Brutal to all lives! ! !

Wish I could, penetrate,
Secretly search the jails,
If I could, would detect
The deprived, abducted!

Count on the future
To observe and witness
Harry's likes, and Meghan,
To tell us what happens
Behind the dark curtains
Of Falasi Palace! !