Haig Khatchadourian: Lament for Lebanon

in the gathering of the waters*
barricaded by distance
from the bludgeoning of war
we kept our lament strictly personal
in the mined night our pain
cradled like lost lovers
in our muted hearts

the indifferent world looked on
as little children
forgotten by man forsaken by God
were crucified in the rubble of disemboweled
buildings
as fractured bodies twisted limbs
torn from the erstwhile living
softcarpeted the festering streets
with offal and omnivorous snarling flames
an arrogant invader proud in arms
raped a people desecrated a country
posing as savior
hailed by those who had professed
blood is thicker than water

yet we too were fully implicated
secure from the war’s blind blows
dug-in in the deep trenches of unremembering
time
our hands and faces too were smeared
with unresisting blood
we too went on our daily living
we too did nothing to stop the carnage

by the mediterranean’s bitter waters
the women of tyre and beirut wept
for their children
and would not be comforted



Haig Khatchadourian
July-August 1982
July-August 2006

*Native American name for Milwaukee

Haig Khatchadourian: We Live Alone

we live alone
whether together or apart

whether shuttling about
in the Undergrounds of time
rushing from station
to station with the miming crowd
whether caught
in the silver noose
of each other's laughter
or held captive
in each other's arms

whether together or apart
we are alone
in separate cells
of delinquent desires
scribbling our despair
on the dirty walls
enacting violent dreams
or escape or release
hoarding blunted hopes
like bits of broken saws

we stay apart; we too
o my love; but
in our apartness, i and you,
our fingertips, like
torches of pinewood, touch
a moment (mortals call
it love); we manage
(we do) to speak together
a little word or two.


This poem has appeared in
Armenian-American Poets: A Bilingual Anthology, ed. and trans. Garig Basmadjian (Detroit, MI: Alex Manoogian Cultural Fund of the Armenian General Benevolent Union, 1976). It was been reprinted here by kind permission of the author.

Haig Khatchadourian: Water Color II

evening.
the whispy clouds are crowded round the sun
tinted with prismatic colors:
drifting islands in a waveless ocean,
or feathery canopies built on air.
the light withdraws from earth, air and sea;
the day wanes slowly toward the eclipse of night;
the present moment dissolves to shadows blurred and far away,
touched with the quality of dreams.
a bird rehearses a few last notes.
a few wings flutter.
the pulse of things beats slower
and swift blood is quieted.

Armenian-American Poets: A Bilingual Anthology, ed. and trans. Garig Basmadjian (Detroit, MI: Alex Manoogian Cultural Fund of the Armenian General Benevolent Union, 1976).