Poet Was His Mother Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Poet was his mother

Busy with cameras
The angles and the light
Mise-en-scene and take outs
To make sure on edit and montage
Saw short film; came along and across…
Nothing was but comment/document on a life

His mother was Foroogh Farrokhzad…

A poet and rebel
A builder of style

No one cared for the man
He wasn't important
He is used, crumpled
To make food for the bird.

I too say:
'Am poet! '

Now think of what happened
After death in grave
To my lost children…

Will sometime
A film makes story to fill up stomachs?