Bishop Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Head to toe you wear red
And the crown
Am I wrong?

Every day
In summer, anxiously I listen
To your chants
Singing song

Honestly
Between us, happily I enjoy
Your preach
I, drunk

My ear
Act as wing, song is air under it
I fly out and far
To heavens

John Bunyan
All the Johns, John Baptist of Bible
John Milton, paradise
Come along

Whispering
Song to me, I hear, I vision easily
Paradise that is lost
And journey

Losing way
I fly on clouds, particle, I am dust
But in search
And alert

Slowly
Creeping to window I aim for snapshot
You see me
And fly

Kandahar
Comes to mind and mullah, invited
To marry
Guy to guy

Lying corpse
In blood, mullah asks, “What is this? ”
“He denied”
Is reply

“In Koran…”
Mullah says, knowing that it is lie
“…a wedding is blessed
Man to man”

My bishop
As a bird on a tree you are shy but not I
Thoughts can fly all over
To Chekhov

Red bishop
Be my guest and welcome, keep coming
Inspire, shake my mind
And remind

Make me
Feel as a cloud fluffy, high and up, deep sky
High above everyone
As a gift

Virtual
With truths and the facts and real, the palace
A soldier of Sabbah
With drugs

It is fun
More often come here, generous in singing
Lead my thoughts
To go wild