the stones of ani

the stones speak loudly
and clearly through your words
they speak through the pathos
just a photo of them evokes

a half a dome, a crumbled stone,
a faded fresco, and old words
all cry out to imagine
what once was and
will never be again

Retro Armo Poem

There is a mountain
I have seen it

There is a mountain
I have not touched
Nor stepped foot upon

There is a mountain
Looming o'er our hearts and heads
In our very livers
At least I think that's what
They used to say

There is a mountain
But really two

There is a mountain
Beckoning, a beacon
Jermak kakat and all
Fueling our anxious souls

There is a mountain
Noah other one like it

Who Am I?

You always ask me this.
As if I had an answer
And if any answer given
Would not be enough…
Or would it?

I would tell you, lying naked,
Between kisses, half sleepy,
If I could…
If I seduced you into
Seducing me.

If I knew who I was…

May 7, 2009

Not the Poem I wanted to write

Contemplating the very me
The essential innermost I
The defining core root of
What it means to be so
Very superficial, so very
Self-indulgent, so very
Consumed with the nothing
That I cannot sleep
That I cannot think or write
Dream or plan a way out

Thank God for television…

April 25, 2009

Central Standard Time

Our biological clocks
Tick out of sync
But our hearts seek
To beat as one
Fast and faster
And then... slower
Falling asleep
Entwined

March 27, 2009

In Honor of The 3rd Anniversary Armenian Poetry Project & it's Founder Lola Koundakjian

Armenians always hear the voices
Echoing from the past
The long gone past, the recent past
The voices of what once were
And live still in the hearts of readers
Of both west 'irs' or east 'oums'
Uz'old words only heard in church
Or even our new native tongues

We hear the echoes of the past
Reflected in the mirror you hold
Speaking the past into bits and bytes
Echoing across the internet globe
Podcast into the Armenian ears
Shushan in Tehran
In Boston, Melbourne, Paris
Garnig in Gumri
In Vienna, Sao Paulo too
We see the white cap of our mountain
Drink from the untainted springs
Laugh in villages that are... no more

March 19, 2009

pure cristal

i was texting you
on autopilot
dreaming through my fingers
caressing your face
through the keyboard
in a mystic almost
mythic reverie
that ended up as
this kind of almost
poor excuse for a poem
the first poem i wrote you

February 17, 2009