Showing posts with label Esther Heboyan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Esther Heboyan. Show all posts

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Esther Heboyan: THE MERRY MEN OF PLUM COUNTRY

Will you, my Pretty,
Will you, ma Chérie,
Marry the merry men of Plum Country?

I’d rather not, Mama,
Be traded
Nor degraded
For the sake of destiny.

Will you, my Pretty,
Will you, ma Chérie,
Marry the merry men of Plum Country?

I’d rather not, Mama,
Be hurdled
Nor curdled
In the manic shade of a tree.

Will you, my Pretty,
Will you, ma Chérie,
Marry the merry men of Plum Country?

I’d rather not, Mama,
Be kicked in the loins
Nor plucked to the bones
Under a moon so skimpy.

So – have you, my Pretty,
Have you, ma Chérie,
Trod the road to Plum Country?

Mama, don’t you know
Glazed shadows
Return no glee?
And the foul trick on me.

Mama, once upon a tomorrow
If no gentleness grows
Inside plexiglass humanity
Do not pledge away my Lily.


Esther Heboyan.
Used here by kind permission of the author.

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Esther Heboyan: Round Trip I and II

ROUND TRIP I
Paris Orly Airport, January 4, 2006

airport lounge
children scream
lovers kiss

pink touches a woman’s hair and jeans
also bodies
draped like couches
are towed by grave mustaches

airport lounge
children scream
lovers kiss

errant eaters
clutching sandwiches
reel under
strips of infamous lettuce

airport lounge
children scream
lovers kiss

a father’s head
tilted
wants eye drops
only to writhe in desolation

airport lounge
children scream
lovers kiss

foggy weather in Istanbul announced
kinetic days (Hovsep handsomely a-saunter)
where you are forever
delayed













ROUND TRIP II
Istanbul airport, January 8, 2006

the windows of my world
hung low in the corner of my mind
hung shut in the prism of my dreams
hung blank in the yarn of my years

who says doors are entryways
in my case windows

a wintry city in twilight snow
and I come across my first window
joyous tidings at the siblings row
mother’s kisses tumble down below
my slippers of turquoise velvet though
were tossed onto the roof of sorrow

who says doors are entryways
in my case windows

the next noon beneath icy raindrum
towards my other window I roam
a child cringes before the awesome
a pedlar’s bear like a giant gnome
will cobblestep in cryptic boredom
my tinsel dimes for his kingdom

who says doors are entryways
in my case windows

now a porthole above the tarmac
slits the city aghast and far back
to each traveler a kismet rack
a seasonful of grinning knick-knack
one baby utters its howl exact
as if wired to a cloud’s milk-pack

the windows of my world

©Esther Heboyan

These poems were provided by the author for the Armenian Poetry Project's Second Blast .

Sunday, March 09, 2008

Esther Heboyan: GRASP, UNGRASP


tomorrow
– my father pondered
tomorrow
i do not know
whether the lord
up above
shall allot my daily round
therefore
– a father frowned
therefore
nag me no more

and so
each tomorrow
with dreams demurred
wants aslant
happened
– in a freeze-frame
my sister’s fortune-pony
upmeadow
my brother’s rubikcube fame
worldly
my forever quest plundered
poste restante



© Esther Heboyan. Used here by kind permission of the author.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Printemps des Poètes 2008 à la Maison d’Europe et d’Orient

Lundi 3 mars à 19h00 :
Performance poétique et musicale
Consacrée à Emirali Yagan


sous la direction d’Esther Heboyan
avec la participation d’Emirali Yagan
musique Nat Devries (piano)

Tarif unique :5 euros

Maison d’Europe et d’Orient
3, passage Hennel
Paris 75012
Métro : Gare de Lyon/ sortie bd Diderot, accès par le 105 av Daumesnil
Métro : Reuilly-Diderot / sortie rue de Chaligny, accès par le 140 rue de Charenton
Tél : 01 40 24 00 55

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Esther Heboyan: PROVENCE-PARIS

Outside darkness
flows
swaying along
railways
i so wish
i could hold it
inside
all lights
grate
like a razor’s edge
whereas
across the aisle
lovers
grasp hands
kiss lips
oblivious to
un-lovers
you so wish
you could love too
but instead
eyes closed
we look away
to search
that space
replete with silences
and fidget
in our seats
to undo
our redundant selves
still
on the station platform
you may have said
shall we meet again
i don’t remember
saying
love trains are
so scarce these days

© Esther Heboyan, Paris, November 2006



Photo of Esther Heboyan by Azra Deniz OKYAY

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Esther Heboyan: LEO KRIKORIAN’S IMPLIED SPACES



Rue des Blancs Manteaux

there
was
Leo’s
art
studio
and
there
stood
Leo
with stories

of
San Francisco

Blabbermouth Monday
at
The Place
Beat drifters’
indigo credence
Ginsberg’s howling angels
Kerouac’s likes’
ochre
decadence



Rue des Blancs Manteaux

there
was
Leo’s
art
studio
and
there
poised
Leo
with stories

of
Armenian Fresno

violet years into
crop-picking urgency
the longest ride East
in a brown jalopy
the G.I. Bill
to change his destiny
Black Mountain College
under
Ilya Bolotowsky



Rue des Blancs Manteaux

there
was
Leo’s art studio
and
there
held out Leo

with stories

of
artsy overflow

in them days
paying homage
to monochromatic
orange
chiselled
at the exact edge
greenness craves for
salvage



Rue des Blancs Manteaux

there
was
Leo
’s art studio
and
there
smoked away
Leo
with stories

of
Parisian come and go

lookers look in
and all around
collectors collect
to no amount
op art’s jagged
jazzy sound
yellowness red cadmium
does
mound



Rue des Blancs Manteaux

there
was
Leo’s art
studio
and
there sat
Leo
to muse

with stories

of
azulene Sausalito

four times wed to
winsome women
in beige
fourfold gone
no children
it just
never
happen’d



Rue des Blancs Manteaux

Passing by Leo’s art studio
I see Leo
through a stained glass window
drawing on grid paper
in amber glow

I wish
I had passed by
more often
Leo I know
smiles at Piet Mondrian

and no doleful music
from the white organ
shall disarray
the immaculate mauve of
your yin and yang



© Esther Heboyan, Paris, October 2007



Esther Heboyan was born in Istanbul, Turkey. She moved at an early age to Germany then to France, and lived in Great-Britain and the United States before settling back in Paris.

She has an M.A. in Journalism, from University of Iowa, Iowa City; a Ph.D in American literature, Université Paris III-Sorbonne Nouvelle, and is an Associate Professor at the Université d’Artois, Arras.

She has completed literary translations from Turkish into French. Her short stories have been published in Ararat Quarterly, New York. Her collection of stories, Les Passagers d’Istanbul, was published in Marseilles, Parenthèses, in 2006. She writes in French and in English.