Monique Avakian: Leave the Machine

and what of the white heat between us?

you feel it everytime I look at you
I hear it everytime you dream of me

that alive and glowing place between us

pure in intent
and
potentially destructive

a living warmth more silver than gold
ancient and evolving

an unmistakable sureness



handshakes and snakes
land mines and quakes
these are easy to glorify

but what of the will of the fledgling sprout…
the patient trust of the dying star…

a treasure can not always be held

what is it
exactly
that we’re looking for?

something beyond incredible to behold
something elusive in its measure to unfold
something so far, untold

Be peace. Be bold. Our hearts know enough of the cold.



--Monique Avakian


This poem has appeared in Poets Against War.

Monique Avakian regularly performs her "musical," "inventive" and "off the hook" poetry around Westchester and Manhattan. Her work has appeared in several poetry publications, and she has earned awards for both poetry and non-fiction. Whether teaching of performing, Monique seeks to spark everyone's intuitive love of language and natural enthusiasm for imaginative depth.

Monique Avakian: My Country Right or Wrong

beds built under bridges
the old and sick, just cast aside
infants take their Ritalin
women shun their tides

bosses ride in motorcades
thugs lurk behind black glass
bank guards hold machine guns
flash the sign, boy, you’ll get past

yeah, boy, you get to pass
in my country, right or wrong
trained to follow orders
you can’t dream or build a song

you know how push a button
you know how to fill in dots
you won’t know what hit you
when your weary body rots
in the war
it’s all for war
that’s what they made you for

TV sells you “booty”
keeps you high on sugar and fries
game cube pulls you under
you can’t let go, even to cry out

leaders twist and shoot up poison
colors flash to keep you pronged
when did a warning become controlling
don’t ask, just move along

boy, you better watch your ass
make like you belong
make a chain and follow orders
just pretend to be strong

you know how push a button
you know how to fill in dots
you won’t know what hit you
when your weary body rots
in the war
it’s all for war
that’s what they made you for

my country, right or wrong
my country, right or wrong

it’s our country, gone wrong


--Monique Avakian
8/04

This poem has appeared in Poets Against War.