Kiana Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Kiana



Kiana

Lost,
-as always,
-are eyes and
-brain; my ears!

Radio remains on
-days and nights
-same is now.

Michael is replaced by a lady.
-she has guest, a writer
-British-Pakistan
- "Two sisters try to save the
-ISIS-fan, brother.

"Traitor is dead, gone, "
-she says, and I follow
-every word by my heart
- "…the body must be gone…"

"Destroyed" stays in
-as a hook in the fish.

"Destroyed"
"Destroyed"
"Destroyed"

CIA planned same for Che;
-and the others
-include Bin Laden in thousands…

We are dumb…
We are dumb…
We are dumb…

We see the surface but
-hidden is, and remains
-depths of facts
-in short…" Why? "
-Why? Why?

Who was Che?
-how and why was he made?

The same is true for
-Bin Laden.

And others
-everyone
-each of them.

Che's trip on the bike,
-a boyish, innocent adventure
-became a trip and encounter
-with the facts
-exposing him to the…
-to thoughts of defending
-the ignored and oppressed.

They filled his notebook with
-A, B, C….to the Z.

Bin Laden also had
-somehow, the same voyage.

And at end
-they are damned
-and seen as betrayers
-but never we see "Why? "
-Why? Why?

The same I, think is with
-the demon in her book
- (the one that author says:
- "Dead is the traitor…"
- "Body must be rid of…"

I felt her and objects, to deal with
- (the ones left in open for birds, beasts)

None would have happened if
-we had sought reason to the "Why? "
-Kiana, plays the piano; reviving her culture.
- (Racism forced her in a den in her corner.)

Sunday, January 21, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: culture
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