Tie Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Tie

I was to, be released
-from jail; its named is
- "Evin, " and its name kills
-the ones who heard of it!
-So, take time, imagine!
- "What we've seen! ? "

They needed my photo
-to set it on file, so…

They took me in handcuff
-eyes fastened with blind
-and walked me in zigzag
-not to let recognise
-path, place of their job.

They sat me on a chair
-to photo and see me ugliest
-to show me as bad, mean,
-to prove that I am criminal!

Look at the file photos of leaders
-and artists who became prisoners
-by falling in hands of oppositions
-who, for time had power
- (after were arrested and in jail
-as ‘mean', ‘bad', ‘Criminal! ".)

The men who I could hear
-could have been two, three.

One handled camera
-one barber, and other? ? ?

I, still cuffed and eyes-blind
-lost my hair as was shaved.

They called me right after
-barber was out of sight:
- "Remove that! "
-in my eyes felt flash.

Time was short, and they joked:
-and Iran under the embargo
-was short of; ‘Negatives! '

"Hey, Hassan, " called one and
- "…do you have excess film? "
- "What is for that you need? "
- "I want to have photo! "

Then silence…

I felt like a Jewish in chamber
-waiting for gas to come for
-oven to get hotter…

"Want photo with a tie…"

They knew me well as
-officer, wearing ties…

Teasing me was their fun!

Without a direct word
-showered me with insults!

"Do you know that tie was for babies,
-on shoulder was kerchief to clean
-then it moved to locate where it is.

And they laughed very loud
-while I burned inside out!

Political prisons are full of
-waterboards and tortures…

Some of tools can be seen
-in many museums
-but not what hurt brains? !

Words they use openly
-can and could have caused harm
-far beyond what is done by bullets.