Trc, Syria And Takhkhar Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

TRC, Syria and Takhkhar

I read and listen to the news
Silly are as ripples on a lake in desert.

The anchor asks lady Farida to take care!
Sounds funny, stupid, unreal.

The guest is a doctor, Syrian
Called, talked with after the rubble's film,
Aleppo's, similar to the one found dead at…

Farida to me sounds "Aziza"
She lived in Takhkhar when Taliban
Went to sign agreement with Yankees, in U.S.

Gynaecologists both of them
And doctors two women.

I was guest to latter
An angel, student and sister
In my heart, and my mind forever.

All of them are victims
As have been First Nations.

I have read the poems
"If I could create…if I were…"

On my side, if I were…
I would bomb palaces of power
The White House, Kremlin and Downing;
Hermitage of the faith if acting as senate, parliament.

Guilt lies there in leaders
These selfish, greedy for power and the wealth
Buying oil, selling arms and washing the brains
Proof of their crimes everywhere, history, stories and poems...

If I were…
If I could…
I sure would…
But I am in "If" cage…