Rained On Me Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Rained on me

Is morning, I observe
The weather, sleet, rain
And again remember
Time spent in the jail.

Studied and researched,
And observed relations
Among those in the gaol
With prisoner and keepers.

I rebelled laws, jailers
When I felt disrespect.

I told them: "Go to hell, "
When grew long beard,
Ignoring their lectures
Or the warnings I heard.

Once rejected to ride
A bus that went to court:
"I need to take papers
For proving my case! "

Prison was school,
University and college;
I learned there, as some
Of greatest leaders,
Mandela, Malcolm X.

There, one day, in snow
Played deaf to the guards
And remained in the yard…

The sky was grey
Like an old blanket
On a child spread;
While silly child tosses
Side to side of the bed
To attract attention.

I felt good, had vision!

With every roll of child
More and more the crease
In the dark cold clouds
That became mother to
The flakes, single, hugged…

My head hung on my neck
Was bent and kept way
To let my mouth and face
Be exposed to heavens…

Eyes opened, lips apart
I stared deep and high
Into wildest sky…

And observed lines and dots
That seemed to dance, go wild
Giving shape and designed
To something like nothing
But my mood and my wants…

I wanted wilderness
In mountains and rivers,
In jungles and forests,
And the seas and oceans.

I wanted freedom.
I wanted wilderness.

And today is the same
Sky is a grey blanket
Full of bumps, disorders
And without decision!

First came rain, then slit
And ended in the flakes…

My mind's eyes see a page,
Blank and made of air
With many, many lines
Parallel, broken
As if dots and hyphens.


Look at leaves, have taken
A shower of the rain
And drops are hanging
Like pierce, off ears!

Inside me mural,
Slogans on the wall
Without certain signal
Or using alphabet
To be known, registered.

Blanket keeps changing
With each roll and movement
Of the child beneath it.

Does sky celebrate?
Or are there complaints?
From what has happened
In the past till today
By nasty human.

And I am a poet
A great observer.

I, too, write some Cantos
As did Pond, the Psycho
That was jar of knowledge!

Sure, I am a lover
Of the virgin Idol
Or a supreme nature.

I have seen the changes
Recall when snow fell
Bright, white and constant
For long and the roadsides
Became hills and mountains.
We, the kids, dug channels
That were long and winding
To play nonstop, wrestling…

Then, in bed, became rocks.

Now, snow, the flakes
Look like the innocents
Being forced to migrate
Deprived of all the rights.

And that just because
Vehicles carry arms
Of Carbon dioxide
That helps rich, powerful
Now gathered in Madrid
To claim carelessly:
"Weather change is nonsense! "

In their world, as I see,
Righteousness means nothing
Since rein is with the mean;
They make noose from leash.

Therefore, am alien;
I dream to return
To times I remember.

I love the way of past
That, alas is gone, passed.

Faithfulness is long dead
Hugs the love, same grave.

World is rich with greed
And lust-need recipe!

Corrupts rule all over;
Even in the heavens,
Visible in photos
Taken by the Hubble…

Mesmerised, in my car, am lost in
The sky through rain and sleet;
See flakes wandering or dancing
Around the old green pine trees
In which the sparrows
Refuge in hiding, keep chirping.