Yom Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Yom

Sea of words has flat surface as
Do the open seas, oceans; colored
Blue patched to green, and dark to white.

Three letters in a word; Yom
“Day” in two languages; cousins
Abraham’s sons, Arabs and Israelis.

Two of the best known foes
Who, have kept us on our toes
Rosary of wars and claims; faiths.

That day of ages was special
I was glued to the base, in Lajes
Atlantic’s largest island; of Azores.

Quiet Island turned to big farm
Locust mass of planes landed, took off
Americans, filled with arms, C-141s, C-5s.

Middle East was in war…

Lebanese was she; Palestine’s blood
Married to an American Major, blond:
“How shameless is it …” said and cried:
“They want me to feed the enemy of mine…”

Kitchen could not feed the crews, food ran out.

Golda Meyer was a dot
She sat on the surface of the war
Washington bitched it all, call on call.

Let it be Yom Kippur War, Ramadhan War,
Or the Arab–Israeli War, October War.

I look at it from a different angle; my telescope
Sees many human beings homeless and lives lost.

“What the hell is the war; for what? ”
“Stealing the wealth and selling the arms? ”