Iron Guard Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Iron Guard

"Sir, sir, sir, " was start
In school, when arrived:
"Do you know of shooting? "

In detail, they told me
Of them in TV Room
And the time of News.

When Khomeini arrived
The kids did what did all.

The Shah's Iron Guard,
Tired of his shifts, long,
Became mad and swore
Shouted with the insult.

Some went and some stayed
Till the Guard shot at the
Silent walls and ceiling.

Ran cadets…

Some with the slogans
Of people in the town.

Then arrived General,
Shot in air with a gun
And ordered arrest of
Eighteen of students.

Left over of sandals
Were at door, stood there.

Abandoned like orphans.

Of the rest, I have said
Till revolt took place
Lot of arms were looted.

I was an officer
Respected by people.

Heard of some heading for
Depot of Iron-Guard.

It wasn't far away,
I felt responsible.

So, left home to go there
Prevent disaster…

Witnessing wilderness
I had been to leader
Asking him to stop
Possible bloodshed.

There wasn't rule or law
Nothing there to abide
But inner feeling of
Becoming hooligan.

Some joined as the part of,
Some went to see the how,
Some wanted to get gun
To be safe and survive!

Heard the loudspeaker
Constant voice, permanent
Threat of shooting them:
"Keep away if not we
Will open fire, shoot..."

Observing flood of
Abusers and looters,

Could see the people dead
And crushed under feet.
Felt danger, stampede.

Got close to soldier
Told him: "Am officer! "

Had him go and change to
Simple clothes "Go away! "

Holding gun, I entered,
Stood firm at the gate
Ready with trigger.

Was sure my presence
Would stop the people.

I was wrong…

In times of lawlessness
People are divided
Either go, hide away
Or become part of the
Hooligans, or observe.

Though with two machine-guns
And bullets in chain, long…
Some risked and came forward
I, too, shot at the walls…

Though cautious for a time
They acted deaf, blind.

In no time all was gone
They cleaned the warehouse.

This was not first or last
Saw, varied each stance
I know well, have feeling
Of looting's stampede.

That is why when reading
Pages of history in dealing
With rebels, angry, hungry,
I become architect, easily
Rebuild the scene, stage
And take part as active
Or can be observing.

Most of those rewriting history
To me, are unaware, lack feeling
Or the mood of moment of looting.

Greatest example is the time of rebels
Of so-called Frog-Lake-Massacre.

Tons of books talk of the
Whites' arrest and murder,
The looting, Massacre
And police, Hudson Bay.

All of them are worthless…

Not even one is filled with feeling
Not even one talks of freedom, liberty.

They talk of Tom Quinn
And couple, Delaney
And Red Coat and McLean
And the church while burning
And the wine and drug
Driving the young men crazy…

None of them has logic
Since they lack the feeling.

Feeling of the crushed, demanding
And racists turned into nobody…

Wine, drug and looting
May bring liberty
But that is for short while;
Temporary.

Story took two months, or around
The so-called savages were drunk
Not of wine, nor drug
But feeling freedom, liberty;
(Returning to old Faith and Culture
Regaining dignity, confidence.)

I advise the writers:
"Study the recent incidents
In France; Yellow Jackets
And burning and lootings."