The Police Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

The police

Drive for defunding
Started with the knee.

Some cry foul that if…

I witnessed two cases
In police's absence.

Both great, respectful...

The first that I recall
Is of coup in Iran
The Brits', America's.

I was kid, little one
And new to the town,
Remember with pride…

Though was much for a child.

We escaped the flood
And were forced to that life.

In time of coup-de-tat...

Rain, clouds, and the mobs
Worked as one, attacked us,
Some received US arms,
And city was unkind.

Dad sent me to village…

I was his messenger
Also, was an agent
As well as a porter.

"Go, bring the needed."

I braved, went to "Hell"
To have the lamb butchered,
And bring meat and rest!

Sister would prepare...

With village in mountains
The road was not asphalt,
Pathway was gravel...

Transport was truck,
Or lorry, as is called
(Only for the cargo.)

Owner was dad's friend…

I sat in the cabin
And felt like VIP.

Rain, clouds, enemies
Kept whipping constantly!

Trip was miserable…

Brutal were masters
And we were poor slaves!

It thundered like flame
And beneath it showered!

Finally, we arrived…

Lamb was killed by mullah,
He skinned, took heart out
And pulled out intestines…

My sister took soft parts
And liver and lung,
Then took a kitchen knife
Cut pieces and fried…

To the rim filled a jar…

I carried flour
To truck, delivered,
So, next day would depart.

It made feel like man,
I worked as grown-ups
Though I was only five...

It made me feel proud.

Returned home to sister,
Night came and we slept.

The mud roof, half fallen,
Cloud kept sending rain,
Lone sister was left there.

She could not travel…

In late teens and engaged
Was against the culture…

Parents thought she is safe
Being with fiancé…

Rest of us migrated…

Broken and shattered
Saw truck heading south,
And going toward town:
"Do not go, wait for me."

"Sleep tight, don't worry, "
Said sister, when woke me.

Was mid night, I dreamed!

Was nightmare, dreaming
I shouted: "Wait for me! "

Opened eyes in morning
Of early spring…

The trees of almonds
As well as apricots
Had fully blossomed.

Sister was kind, caring…

With fresh sweet tea
Breakfast was ready.

She left me while I ate,
Soon after she returned.

In her had flowers
For me, pinned to collar.

I was guest of honour…

The friend of father
Or truck driver
Seated me with respect
Between him and elder …

The rest of passenger
In cargo department.

Had to take meat and jar
And bag of flour
And pair of leather shoes
For my old brother…

Driver was expert,
Zigzagged to right and left
Searching for finest way
Through the rain's puddles.

And: "Hello, Isfahan…"

It was early at night,
I could not carry all
Of items, materials.

Left behind flour
To carry the remained,
Meat and shoes, and gourmet.

Kept facing, rain, shower!

With the meat on my head
Tied the shoes round my neck,
In my hand, jar, gourmet…

The smell attracted
Many dogs, strayed,
Each one was a killer…

I shivered with dread…

No police, empty streets
Resembled summer fog
In hot sun and fading…

Iran's Shah had noticed
People liked Mosaddeq
So, chose to, go, escape.

And the dogs kept barking…

Saw around the fire
Gathered the youngsters,
Some came and offered help.

They did the police job
Feared them the bad dogs,
I thanked them and went on.

That, to me, was lesson:
"Good people come to help
When police are absent."

Lesson was repeated
When passed me thirty years.

Same Shah left once again!

He left and came mullahs
When Khomeini arrived.

This time too, hid police
And surfaced the good deed.
People can enforce law,
On their own and be kind.

Unlike the "Fox News"
I do not think abuse
Is greatest amuse:
"We are herd, and in need
Of shepherd with stick! "

I know this and believe…

Have seen it firsthand and
Consciously I insist:
"Need police, only if…"

Having read many books
Of eras with bad rules
Crushing the abused
Because of the bad eggs
Handling the police
I stand with rebels:
"Put limits for police."

The police need trim….

Police is hunting dog
Fed by us and is ours.

Police must fetch the hunt
With no rights to eat, bite
To support brutal…

If judges, senators
And police, officials
Live a life with our tax,
They are all employed…

Nobody…none of them
Is, can be above a
Rich or poor taxpayer,
Man, woman, a gender
Of any year or age
The police need trim….