Vow Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Vow

Am poet
-on my feet and proud
-even if life acts tough.
-Don't accept any help!
-In my room sit to write
-and sweat, since is hot!

The pores of my skin are the valves,
-perfect in safety…they open and close.

And I think...
- "Great is creation…"

And question:
- "Is there a creator? "

Let the valve of brain
-open-up and close by itself.

Evolution!
Evolution!
Evolution!

Evolution
-is what I think about
-let it come and depart
-as do the wind, breeze
-of changes in creek of my life.

Fun it was when younger
-slept right in the sun
-to permit configure
-learn about surveillance.

"Test yourself…"
-I told me, demanded;
-stubborn, as always
- "See if you, can take it."

In truth it happened
-I became a soldier, researcher.

Spent time in Chaco
-walked and walked
-in what is Green Hell,
- (So is called time to time…)

Wanted to give life to
-the dead there
-hundreds of thousands
-Soldiers and Indigenous
-and causes…

Came questions to my mind
- (as if a living dead) :
- "What caused this bloodshed? "

Rockefeller!
Rockefeller!
Rockefeller!

Had to bear their hunger
-followed their emotions!

The answer was a shame
- "Oil for the Standard, Royal Shell."

Sweat, Thirst and Sunrays
-of the months and the years
-killed thousand for sake of
- "The Oilers! "

Thirsty and powerless
-collapsed and remembered
-a book that I have read
-Oil Sisters were Seven! !
-In real, came biker, went, returned
-with him he, brought me rainwater;
- (I had had in Iran's Qeshm Island!)

Conscious and unconscious
-thanks to local biker
-in dream, travelled
-and became small child.

Was told to take the goats
-to graze near house.

Busy they, with heads down
-I, played with the earth, and
-pebbles that could find.

Tired of sitting, I
-laid me down on ground.

Was alone by myself,
-when woke up
-time had run
-no trace of the goats,
-of any animal…

As little child shepherd
-I had lost and had failed
-felt ashamed…

Raised my voice
-when I searched,
-called their names in my search,
-no track could I find to follow,
-so, I did what the meek does; sat prayed.

Took an oath, oblation
- "I will give…donation…"

Now…
-years gone
-I smile:
- "What a Vow! ? "

Man, in charge of the farms
-was called a: (Dasht-ban)
-who was a security guard.
-He saw the herd in farms
-and kept them behind bars.

Dad happened to know of
-my mistake and failure!

I felt bad, full of shame,
-what a shame!

Neither God nor Imams
-no one but "Dashtban"
-could free animals.

Could I be under vow?

What if they punish me?
- (The small criminal
-who had been playing
-as is need of each child!)

Rainwater tasted mud
-sweet was man's smile.
-Had nothing to pay off
-but telling him of why I
-travelled in that way;
-with backpack, nothing else
-to find the souls of dead
-and the things that happened
-in Chaco… "Green Hell"

The Chaco of today
-belongs, most, to Mormons!
-What about Indigenous
-who are pushed to Reserves?

With no land and no hope
-have becomes gamblers
-drinkers and useless…

And who is criminal
-for crimes committed by locals?

Oh, my Lord
-how I want, wish to die!
-Am ashamed of shameless brutal
-or mindless, brainless animal
-who has been and remains slave to…
-Am tired, embarrassed of mankind! ! ! !