Nassy Fesharaki

Gold Star - 74,458 Points (Dec 29 / Toronto)

Michael - Poem by Nassy Fesharaki


Tocaña in Andes
Looks too rough, uneven
Residents are Blacks; strange
Africans of the south, north, centre
Hunted and stolen; moved here for labour.

Things have changed
The land is divided
They have parts
For coca

That is why they have song
“No coca, means no life.”
I talked with, fallen and toothless man
He shouted and cried; was drunk
With his words past surfaced.

Later met, the Michael
Black; from USA.

“You? Here? ” I questioned.

“I got my diploma, real good, could become
A teacher…” he stopped.

He had left, not for home, for border
Headed for Mexico; to see world
Called his mum and informed.
“This is what I have done.”

“But my son…? ” She complained.
“What is math; I want life…”
He replied.

Like Che, he, saw unseen
Worked and went saw the scenes.

His name changed to Miguel
Simple life of Yungas; pick and chew, the coca.
Coroico sees mountains of tourists
Who cross like breeze; not in tocaña; Charobamba.

Topic(s) of this poem: concious

Comments about Michael by Nassy Fesharaki

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

Poem Submitted: Friday, April 17, 2015

Poem Edited: Friday, April 17, 2015

[Report Error]