Typhoon Coming On Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

A tiny balcony on the fifth floor of a vast residential complex faces the evergreen tree and more
From the window of second floor, a couple observe things falling from the tree, or maybe above.
Fifth floor and young pair race, a man with girl. “Whose spit goes further, lands faster on ground?
Thought of, from nature to nature; fists full of rice, this time not spit pours, Ruskin comes to mind
With him Turner starts to rise and his Typhoon coming on; an art with blood color, with messages
Slaves thrown over the board; feet still in chain, dead hands, hopelessly seeking help, sticking out
The ship owners in insurance companies, “Cargo was lost. Typhoon came on.” Slaves were cargos
The Typhoon coming on says “Ay… Seeing the nature is not just observing but, to do something to
Stop its Corruption.” It meant destroy the embarrassing ugly child of capitalism, shame on Slavery.
Ruskin talked for today when globalization is bringing back that shame, “Everything is commodity.
Labor must be flexible. The world is a market.” And on fifth floor a mirror on the wall faces outside
The mirror exposes the garden and the young pair; fooling themselves to be in the garden. Bible is
As is the mirror, the metaphors but reality is the pairs. God of Bible is back as is garden, both true
But neither is powerful nor are they revengeful. The mirror is unaware of the miracles taking place
In the illuminated brains of the pair and those in the windows of the second floor, the brains order
Extreme joy, extreme sorrow, bi-polarity, and clearly in search for everything, God, religion and life
And life comes in the form of Impressionism, Modernism and to see they must ask themselves if by
Chance, they are still alive and if their thoughts are deliberately open ended in a world of relativity.
The pair in their mirror’s garden; because nothing is reality both are unlikeness, sign of Abstract art.
There is nothing as clear as is the hidden question, hidden thought of, “Seek even if already sought.”