Segregating - Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
In my mind is echo of the words
In ear, days and nights
“The dead and, illegal, and capsize
Refugees, cross seas; border-walls.”
In my heart an archive of the fights in the courts
On the ships, on the lands, Africa and Andes, Asia
And the chains on slaves, and in farms, slave-sales.
I am sick with the thoughts that grow
Politicians planted the cancer tumour
Time is short; it will kill, with the shock
Suddenly a shiver, I will fall to go numb
No, no, no, no fear of dying
Fear is: “Crippled”
In need I, hate doctors
Dirty are politics, politicians and also ideas
I need words
Word is pill, capsule and, injection anywhere.
Thank you the “Guest or Prisoner? ”
The words are Deanna’s
She claims, confesses
She is dance master who needs words:
“Awaiting eagerly...” witnessing death…
Rebirth of the words
“thousand times, and again and again, ”
Here I: “waiting on… the words’ sounds.”
I too, need:
“To quit dallying…” must form lines.
Must pick, “choose, ” and keep them
Must expose the killer “in my mind, ”
Is it guest, prisoner?
I can see in archive
What we see at borders
They happened in old days
Invaders chose slaves
Haciendas chose miners.
Ferocious are the thoughts
When awake, in sleep
I need words for my heart
Must go on with its pound.
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