Breakfast Poem Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Breakfast poem

Is norm like breakfast
When, daily, reading poems!

Some of them
Move senses.

Today's was on border
By Joanie
Evoking "Boundary."

And I am on the move
By using words as jet.

It is in Seventies
Wear stars on shoulders;
Shah has signed treaty
With Iraq's president
For exchange of the foes
And changing the borders.

And I sit with the maps
Hold in hand a marker
Am busy changing lines.

Overall, we have gained
To advance in their land.

Now, I think, as did then:
"What about the people? "
"And trees and houses? "

See the wives and husbands
Now, looked at as neighbours
That vary their anthems!
I feel them, broken
Carrying two passports
What about these people?

Do they know?
Any rights?
What are lines?

I think of local sheikhs
That counted and relied
On Iran or Iraq; now betrayed!

If this is Kurdistan
Same is the Wazirestan!

And I see many that
Are in the Asia, Africa
And both of Americas.

So, hate fills all my guts
And deep in my heart, mind…

Oh poems
Oh poets
Oh, the words
And pain of awareness

Maybe I must close
All the doors and windows
By lying in a casket
Deep into a grave

Can not love, and still
Be careless like steel

Am tired of the wars
And borders and the lines
And the wealth for few
And burden divided
Among poor, in deserts
Or mountains and oceans

Maybe I must close
All the doors and windows
By lying in a casket
Deep into a grave

Wish I could do something
Hate being a nothing
Using words as matches.