Righteousness to Me
by Mahasty Eslahy
Equality perhaps is a piece of bread,
divided equally between me, you, us, and others.
Equality perhaps is a biggest jar of water
containing everyone’s need of having water
in their circadian existence.
Equality perhaps is a landscape, full of shelters,
all the same, and embraced by and for everyone;
with the same space and universal.
And justice perhaps is the application
of ethical appropriateness and appropriation.
This ambiguity, agnosticism, apprehension
drags me into the walls of dilemma.
So what justice means, what equality means,
is a quandary, a complex and perplexing question.
Who is acting just, or fair?
Who is making this decision?
I am dubious about the meaning of these words.
I am fearful that these words
have become simply cheaters.
Words that are used by distrustful individuals
making other’s lives depressed and hopeless.
I am doubtful about who I am.
And why someone has called me criminal.
I am doubtful about how I can be again,
that vibrant person I was before.
I am doubtful, afraid about in what way
I can prove that I am not a criminal.
I have already described where my freedom is.
I have proclaimed what I want to wear
and in the way that I want to wear it.
I have already explained that I want to say things
in such a way that I want to declare.
I have just said I want to live happily, not in misery.
I am doubtful about my dignity,
which was lost inside a reformatory.
I am doubtful what justice is,
for equality to me is dead and departed.
Freedom to me is a mirage.
I do not want to use this word casually.
I want to discover the truth.
I want to keep it in my heart,
and respect it with love.
I do not want to sell this word,
these words, of justice and equality.
As I think, and hopeful here, freedom itself
will bring me, myself
both justice and equality.
Subterranean Blue Poetry