Keep Or Leave Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Keep or leave

The best of medicines
Is searching, accepting
"Fact is what does exist."

Let us talk of mother
As the core and centre
Of the life for infant.

She dies and goes away
Regardless of reasons
She is gone and absent.

Neither whine nor tears
Can help to bring her.

This logic, then, offers
Only one of two ways:
"Keep living, find a way,
Kill yourself, put an end."

I agree with both but
Leave the choice to seeker.

I love and admire
Romeo, Juliet
And Farhad of Shirin
And Majnoon, Crazy.

None of them lived the life
That many, call: "Normal."

But joy was in doing
What they were enjoying.

They chose and followed, so
To me, they are heroes.

I bring the bouquets
Of the best flowers
To set at the grave
Of devoted lover.

I also bow to those
That try to live long
(Even if not my way!)

Such people select the
Recipes and manners,
Of hiding, stealing
Or lying, if so, need.

Length, to them is logic.

Some are like Jim, Hendrix:
"Ignore length, enjoy width, "
I agree, adore him…

I praise and cherish
Confidence, what may be.

I do not agree with
Being ink and idle
Like a dot on poster
Of dead wall, stature…

Must remove ass from
Wooden or metal chair
To become a fighter
Like cheetahs and lions
Keep moving, activate…

Such being my logic
I love the French since
They are art creating.

I, also, like Russians
For being crazy…

Sasha worked for me when
I lived in Saint Peter,
Once he said: "Tell Yankees,
Put aside tanks and ships,
Come here if you dare,
To fight in the streets…"

I enjoyed the daring
From a bent and a thin
Young man who
Was willow in the wind!

Now I read of Russians
Living life of their will,
Ignoring government's
Threats and its warnings…

Bravo!
Bravo!
Bravo!

I: "Yes, live the life that you wish,
Not that of Bolshevik, Menshevik
And ignore threats of, the COVID."

I said so because I
Travelled world around,
And have seen the cultures
And peoples with own ways.

I recall when was child
In bazaar, Isfahan
And heard the slogan
Of the youths and polite:
"Mosaddeq is our life."

Too little and in shock,
Saw coming hooligans
With sticks of the mobs,
They hit the doors and walls:
"Forever, long live, shah."

Never talked with parents
Since their life was simple.

Brothers had own thoughts,
To them, I, was small
Not worthy to discuss
The matters of Iran,
In this way life went on!

Time went by and I learned
Day by day, every day
Till one day…
I followed the order
Given by, the employer.

At the end of alley
Saw trace of bullet
From the police gun.

Being young, teenager
I was more than eager
So, followed went further
To see the things better
And went till saw people,
They shouted, raised flags:
"Down with the dictator."

Must have been the tallest
Was sitting on the saddle
And pedalled bicycle.

On the bike, wide scope
I could turn in circle
And had rich, full view,
Saw police like brood
Of a hen with dread,
By the wall, and others
Roamed, shouted in anger,
Disgraced the system…

Came truck, it was filled
With bricks, and backed in
Some garage in building,
Few men went and picked
The brick, broke it,
And threw at police,
Using hand and sling.

The police were at guard
Had helmets, visors, on
And also, fully armed.

One of rocks of slings
Flew, went directly
Landed on the police,
I saw him signalling
To commander, telling:
"They kill us like a chick."

Suddenly around me
The bullets kept raining
And the men kept falling,
Targeted, randomly
(Bloody, their bodies…)

Saw brooks of blood
And many on the run,
Came along motorbikes
To remove dead, injured…

Then, I, in that moment
Felt being religious
And ready to be a
Martyr for the Muslims,
And oppose government.

From then and after
I did join and observed
Many of such actions
In Iran and elsewhere.

Therefore, I do not fall
For pro, nor for con
Commenting on, about
Looters or hooligans
To stamp a mob, thug.

I see me nowhere now
To say "Yes" or say "Not"
To the ones I know not,
Need details and I must
Get close to the heart
Of matter, be conscious
Watchfully and with care.

I try to see depths,
Study what happens
In Hong Kong, USA.

Laugh at the Golden-Hair
Defending the Chinese,
Asian continent,
Yet is deaf, dumb, blind
To closest of sites
Of Blacks-choked-to-death
Because he does not care…

I laugh at the Lincoln too
Lecturing freedom:
"The slaves are free, equal."

I look at "Red" friends,
Residents and owners
Of the lands claimed by
Settlers as "Purchased."

Lincoln? Just president?
Is it joke? Or a game?
Question the Indigenous.

Like to keep eyes open
With my mind and ears,
To follow the thinkers
Decide and conclude:
"This is fact and truth..."

If French comes with art,
Literature, camera
And Germans with engine,
Dialect, philosophy,
And Russians are best of
Hooligans, forever,
They are all my friends,
I love them in my way.

And, for sure, I refrain
From the fast judgement.