Recursion Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Recursion

In Sixteen-Seventy
King Charles was crazy;
Signed Royal Treaty.

Had his head in the sand
Saw nothing and heard not
The truth of the land.

"All is for our cousin
Rupert, to boss, handle
And manage, look after."

Men, women of place
Did differ in face, shape
"Indians, " yet were named.

The claimant was dumb and
Could not see, recognise
That they are in wrong land.

Had I been British
I would have felt ashamed
With such a wrong claim
And giving the wrong name.

But the Bitch and Sire
Know nothing of the shame;
Do their thing in open...

Dreadful and ugly
Came along for landing
Dependants of the King.

They brought filth and wrong
Bloodshed and draught.

They changed the face of Earth
Scattered men, women
Some were hung and the rest
Became the prisoners
Of the so-called "Reserves! "

HBC has been, is
Duplicate of the East
-Indian-Company.

This was way of bully
Of the time, proudly
Named: "Great Britain! "

Empire that talked of
"Always day, no sun-down, "
Is now gone and far dead!

A focus on White House
Recollects Russian-Dolls
Which is best close-up
On the word "Recursion."

Showing king in palace
Unaware of outside
Approving Treaty
To go and discover:
"Ignore old citizens;
The Mother Earth lovers
That live in peace, silent."

Recursion!
Recursion!

Today's way to the wise
Is lesson to remind
"A bully must be taught."

If there are the gallows
Or jails for criminals
Must host the presidents
Like Donald, the Trump.

Pompeo, John Bolton
United with their boss
As well as MBS
Are true criminals
All of them love blood!