Kapka Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Kapka

Me, going to Russia?
-is question
-which soon will
-appear and surface…

So, let us leave answer
-Not for now! ! !

The talk is om, about article
-Moscow Time's

"A woman…journalist…"
- (I do not mention name!)
-felt enforced and cornered …
-to select migration! ! !

I feel her
-see her pain…

Home is home
- (Even hell)
-and host-land
-is hotel

Most painful death is known
-being dead in "Hotel"
- (all alone…with no one
-except for the landlord…
- "Need the room for next guest! ! ! ")

Therefore, I empathise!

When younger
-when life rolled
-when was on, the coaster
-I thought of places
-to live when retired
-Boroojerd was the first
- Mashhad was the second
-Sacrament in Calif, was the third

But now I, thanks to force
-am living in hotel

Host is Good, Excellent)
-but still is the boss
-and even the school
-with those eyes at the board
-find my heart to Kapka;
- (Means trap in Russian.)

She looks and
-in her eyes
-are arrows
-they lift off
-one by one
-landing port
-my heart, mind.

I steal my look to
-remain a gentleman
-respectful but heart sinks

Those arrows
-keep coming
-slit veins…

The arrows act "His song;
- "Strumming my pain with…
-Singing my life with his…"

Need to call 9-1-1
-S.O. S. and declare
-The Mayday!

"Be careful! "
-I warn me…
- "…of pains in the mad-house…"

I have read
- "Romeo-Juliet
-and
- "Shirin & Farhad"
-and "Leili & Majnoon."