Of Not Said 5 Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Of not said 5

From then to today
The passed times, and gone days
Easy is to talk but, comes dread
Feel goosebumps with the word "Taliban"!

With me as desert seed, sneak out to speak
With drops, fog, steam to grow high to peak
Or the cat that is born with deepest curiosity
I risk life for learning, as I shall, always will…

Then I was in Kabul; of nineteen ninety nine
City was dead-alive more like a graveyard
Everywhere were burned tanks, war trucks
Fallen were the houses, "River" used for urine!

Passport was beard and… I had my black, long…
A boy of the ten meant man, in chador were women! ! ! ?

In my search to find books I fell for deepest hook
Became worm to those birds who sit as strapped
Spy on everything that goes on, reported:
"He is an Iranian…"

With thrones' horn in horn
In fire I was caught war of words
If taken in Kabul could be hung as spy
"Betrayer" I would be if found inside Iran.

Either way could be hung
Could see me pee on thigh.

Had to act proper, for living find a way
And plan to escape.

Therefore met a young man:
"Why not meet Mullah Omar? "
Then after ‘Minister', big turban
Had lunch with tomorrows' Taliban…
And joined the reciting of poems; in Pashto and Farsi…
But always sick, feared and had to take tablets…
Till time came to escape…