In Plato’s Phaedrus, Socrates says that locusts were once human.
Everywhere I look there are truth seekers
in their grandfather’s green army jackets waiting
for their lives to begin. Somewhere
a light bulb is replaced, a doorknob turns,
and so many appear with nothing to say.
Like a sentence that has no future.
It is a ballast of shame, a rendering
of stillness – a movement towards God.
We feed, and feeding, grow,
and growing, swarm. But this is not the message.
This prayer is far from that,
as far as a sinner can be, as only a woman
with hunger and pride would rather hide
behind her words than give them up,
would much rather live among the poison wheat.
Previously published in Cultural Weekly
Undone every morning,
the devil at her knees
as her mother combs her hair,
grabs and tames the tangles.
Hundreds of wooden fingers
unravel hours of twirling
around an index finger
before bed, before dreams
of collapsing altars
and dark-haired women laughing.
By morning, a head full of spider
webs; so many evil knots to save.
She undoes her hair at bedtime,
a thing possessed – half-dead.
Unbound and spread
across the white pillow, around
her face, a black halo, a sea of little sins.
Budding, her breasts
blind kittens that will open their eyes
after many slow Sundays, unwindings,
elastic hours that stretch and shrink
like rubber bands wound around
a black mass of hair,
a fistful of worry,
a handful of worms in a dream.
Դուն էն հուրին իս, վուր գէմի կու զաւթէ,
Չունքի ինձ զաւթեցիր խափով, նազա՛նի,
Արիվիլք, արիվմուտ, հարաւ ու հիւսիս
Չըկայ քիզի նըման չափով, նազա՛նի:
Շատ մարդ քու էշխէմէն կու դառնայ յիզիդ,
Արի մէ ռա՛հմ արա, լա՛ւ կացի միզիդ,
Գ'ուզիմ, թէ համաշա դամ անիմ քիզիդ`
Սանթուրով, քամանչով, դափով, նազա՛նի:
Դարդիրըս շատացաւ` ասիլ իմ ուզում.
Աչքէմէս արտասունք հուսիլ իմ ուզում.
Համաշա, եա~ր, քիզիդ խօսիլ իմ ուզում,
Սիրտըս չէ կըշտանում գափով, նազա՛նի:
Հայալու իս, ադաբ ունիս, ար ունիս,
Ձեռիդ` դաստա կապած սուսանբար ունիս,
Տո՛ւր, ինձի սըպանէ` իխտիար ունիս.
Հէնչաք ըլի` կէնաս բափով, նազա՛նի:
Սայաթ-Նովէն ասաց` արզ անիմ Խանին.
Ղաբուլ ունիմ` քու խաթրու ինձ սըպանին.
Հէնչաք ըլի, եա~ր, գաս իմ գերեզմանին,
Ածիս խուղըն վըրէս ափով, նազա՛նի:
Հեղինակ Վեհանոյշ Թեքեան կ՚ասմունքէ Ղարսի նուիրուած բանաստեղծութիւնը զրոյցի ժամանակ Յակոբ Կիւլլիւճեանի հետ որը տեղի ունեցաւ Ապրիլ Գրատան մէջ 11 Նոյեմբեր, 2018ին.
Vehanoush Tekian reads one of her poems dedicated to Kars during a conversation with Hagop Gulludjian at Abril Bookstore on Sunday, November 11, 2018.
Թամամ աշխարհ պըտուտ էկայ, չըթուղի Հաբաշ, նազա՛նի,
Չըտեսայ քու դիդարի պէս` դուն դիփունէն բաշ, նազա՛նի,
Թէ խամ հագնիս, թէ զար հագնիս, կու շինիս ղո՛ւմաշ, նազա՛նի.
Էնդու համա քու տեսնողըն ասում է` վա~շ, վա~շ, նազա՛նի:
Դուն պատուական ջավահիր իս, է՛րնէկ քու առնողին ըլի,
Ով կու գըթնէ, ա՛խ չի քաշի, վա~յ քու կորցընողին ըլի.
Ափսուս վուր շուտով միռիլ է, լուսըն քու ծընողին ըլի.
Ապրիլ էր, մէկ էլ էր բերի քիզի պէս նաղաշ, նազա՛նի:
Դուն էն գըլխէն ջուհարդար իս, վըրէդ զարնըշան է քաշած,
Դաստամազիդ թիլի մէջըն մէ շադա մարջան է քաշած,
Աչքիրըդ` օսկէ փիալա, չարխէմէն փընջան է քաշած,
Թերթերուկըդ նիտ ու նաշտար, սուր ղալամթըրաշ, նազա՛նի:
Էրեսըդ, փարսէվար ասիմ, նըման է շամշ ու ղամարին.
Բարակ մէջքիդ թիրման շալըն նըման է օսկէ քամարին,
Ղալամըն ձեռին չէ կանգնում, մաթ շինեցիր նաղաշքարին.
Յիփ նըստում իս` թութի ղուշ իս, յիփ կանգնում իս` ռաշ, նազա՛նի:
Յիս էն Սայաթ-Նովասին չիմ, վուր աւզի վըրայ հիմանամ.
Աջաբ միզիդ ի՞նչ իս կամում, սըրտէդ մէ խաբար իմանամ.
Դուն` կըրակ, հագածըդ` կըրակ, վո՞ւր մէ կըրակին դիմանամ.
Հընդու ղալամքարու վըրէն ծածկիլ իս մարմաշ, նազա՛նի:
Քառասուներորդ փողոցի
վրայ թափառական,
ձմրան առաջին
գիշերները.
մութ է փողոցը
ու մութ են
շարք մը
գինետուները։
Երբ դուռ մը բացուի,
մեղեդիները կը փախչին
կարծես խցանահանէ
մ’արձակուած։
Ներսը մարդիկ նստած,
փոքր ու հեռու կ’երեւին
գինետան կարմիր
լոյսին տակ։
Ուր խաւա՛ր է
բառերը կը ճչա՜ն
կարծես տիրելու
անհրաժեշտութեամբ։
Ինչո՞ւ կը փնտռեմ այս մութ
ու ամայի վայրերը. գուցէ
յուշերը այդ գիշերներուն երբ
փոքր տարիքիս, հօրս հետ
հոն ապահով կը զգայի,
շիշ մը գոգա-գոլա
քիմքս կախարդող
ու ականջներս
մինչեւ ուշ ֆլիբըրի
ձայներով դիւթուած։
Հոն ուր գնչու մը
ժպիտով մը վարդեր
կը հրամցնէր սիրահարներուն
իսկ ուրիշ մը՝ նկարահան
Polaroid պատկեր մը
կը փորձէր ծախել։
Քառասուներորդ փողոցի
վրայ թափառական,
ձմրան առաջին
գիշերները.
մութ է փողոցը
ու մութ են
կարգ մը
յիշատակները։
Նիւ Եորք
A Night of Celebration and Support, Featuring Poets Peter Balakian and Susan Barba," at the Sheraton Commander, January 25, 2019, at 7pm. Tickets will include appetizers and there will be a cash bar. Purchase your tickets now! https://conta.cc/2ECCntn Can't attend? Consider making a donation: http://www.grolierpoetrybookshop.org/Donations.html
Her eyes
and the lake
are his memories,
cobalt images of clarity
and purity, running deep.
It was in this cove
where the black spotted loon
dove head first
into the heart of blue,
attracting the tender pulse
of her affection
inciting her
to follow the creature
into the watery sweep
tangled with milfoil
that snarled her hair
while the checkered fowl
dutifully hunted
for its young.
Her blue eyes wide,
blended eventually
with the ripple of current
that swept beneath the surface.
He visited that cove often thereafter,
especially those days
where the sun’s gleam
highlighted the blue ghost
within the restless ripples
that will forever
wrap him in riddles.
Previously published in Red River Review
Michael Keshigian, from New Hampshire, had his twelfth poetry collection, Into The Light, released in April, 2017 by Flutter Press. He has been published in numerous national and international journals including Oyez Review, Red River Review, Sierra Nevada College Review, Oklahoma Review, Chiron Review and has appeared as feature writer in over a twenty publications with 6 Pushcart Prize and 2 Best Of The Net nominations. (michaelkeshigian.com)
a phone call in the middle of the night,
the son of a best friend – words
choked by the heave of sobs
erupting from his belly – his father,
a sudden death, and the air whooshes
from my lungs, but no words come…
or others, friends you once
danced and sang with,
still on this earth but many
now lame or raspy-voiced
and you, sister, children
a continent away, living
with angst and two Abyssinians
your comfort at night
or you, brother, your gait
shuffled by the disease
that one day not so distant
has claim on you
or you, dearest, your mother’s
ship long since having left port
on a tide of dementia and you
on the shore still waving
safe journey, safe journey…
and so I watch the insults
pile up and give them names,
like “Arthur” for arthritis, “Nolan”
for no language as I search
for a lost word, “Stenny” for stenosis
when my legs don’t work quite right.
All this we might call aging,
these losses one by one,
or we might call them small deaths,
a collective prelude, as if one’s own demise
will be the symphony of all symphonies.
I saw that he belonged to this sea,
To water, and salt and the flesh of this
First water, and he preyed on it not
With steel and lever, engines and matrix.
Only net.
Witnessed his arachnid fingers, fretting, ·
Sunbrowned tentacles, spinning, spooling
The gossamer web in the lustrous jade of dawn
Light, casting, over-casting, hurling -
Sending with long-limbed lean arcs, the
Small baitfish, squiggling, spine-hooked, out
Over, above, blinding the claw of the sun,
Plop, into the shoal of a million silver sard.
On the edges, lurking, hungered the Akaba 'cuda.
Eel-like arrowed magic, lank teethy snout
Longer than his wrestler's shank body,
Taunter, sporting devourer, feasting on the
Leaping frenzy of the netted school: lambent razor.
It was punishment seeing this gleaming muscle
Lose its invisibility and come to us: taken body.
What was a scream on a line held with blood-cut hands
Took on the shame of shore life: the angry, futile throbbing.
Fearful lest that saber-mouthed rapier-sting
Slash at the gloat of the sun and his hands,
The old Arab split the darted snout, pressed
One jaw, then the other, slow, firm and deathly bray,
Until top, then bottom, cracked and broke on
The trunk of the palm log washed up at his feet.
That done, he began to sing. Or pray.
Providence RI —The Armenian Students Association, Inc. is delighted to announce the start of its 8th annual poetry competition. As in the past years, the ASA, Inc. is partnering with the Armenian Poetry Project for the writing competition named in memory of Arthur Halvajian, a trustee who led its Board in sponsoring the first competition.
"In the past, we have enjoyed reading about the winning entries and look forward to reaching out to even more communities in North America" said Alice Movsesian, a member of the ASA, Inc. Board of Trustees as well as its liaison to the competition’s organizing committee.
ASA National Board Vice President M. Manoog Kaprielian, a staunch supporter of poetry, believes in its power to heal communities and individuals who have settled throughout the United States and Canada.
The Armenian Poetry Project, led by poet Lola Koundakjian, is a research and documentation site for 19th to 21st century Armenian poems and related topics. Currently containing over 3000 poems, it celebrated its 12th anniversary in April.
APP has a worldwide following and releases poems through RSS feeds, Twitter and podcasting.
Rules:
All individuals of Armenian descent, residing in the United States and Canada are invited to submit their work, in English or Armenian for the competition.
Let us agree to meet
here some winter
when the park
gates are locked,
and the arches thinned
of their vaulting green
to climb the wall,
thaw the icicles
and watch the rain
like flowering
cherry and lilacs
that kissed your hair;
some winter
when the fog is heavy,—
to return to this light.
Chip away
At the stone that is life
And see what may lie
At the core,
Deep inside.
See what may come,
What may be
Once you are done
Scraping away
Scratching the surface.
Be the first
To touch your creation
To see the secrets
Stuck inside
All this time.
It is yours.
It is you.
You are a memory
Etched in stone.
Rupen Khajag, 2018
Rupen Khajag is a Canadian-Armenian poet. This work appeared in the Armenian Weekly.
Մ. Մեծարենցի 64 - որդ մահուն յիշատակին.
Լեռներով շրջապատված ճահճոտ լճում
Tatev Chakhian is an Armenian poet and visual artist, born in Yerevan and currently living in Poland.
In 2016 she published her first volume of poetry titled “unIDentical” which was nominated for the 2018 European Poet of Freedom – the 5th edition of the Literary Award of the City of Gdansk and was published in Polish.
Selections of Tatev's poetry have been translated into various languages and published in anthologies and literary magazines in Austria, Poland, Iran, Russia, Nagorno Karabakh.
In 2016 Chakhian received the annual Obywatelska Polish magazine and the Polish literary award from Dionis Maliszewski. In Armenia, she was honoured with the Sahak Partev first literary prize from Catholicos Garegin II and the literary award of the first lady of Armenia.
She has participated in Poeziefestival Berlin, 2012; Literary Ark, in 2013-2014; and European Poet of Freedom 2018 literary festivals.
«Նոր է, նոր, նոր որ անհիմ
Այս հողերէն, թօթուելով մեր կեղծիքները բոլոր,
Այս քաոսէն կը ծնիմ։»
-Տեղատուութիւն եւ Մակընթացութիւն
Նիկողոս Սարաֆեան
It is as new, new, new, that from these foundationless
grounds, shaking off all our fictions,
I am born out of this chaos.
-Ebb and Flow
Nigoghos Sarafian
Translated by Hagop Gulludjian
Yesterday was APPs 12th anniversary.
We have celebrated it, as we often do, quietly, reading poetry and happy to have achieved a few key points.
We remain the only website providing audio and text RSS feeds of poems written by Armenians, as well as contemporary authors on Armenian subject matters.
We continue providing all internet surfers free access to the webpage and audio downloads 24/7/365 via RSS, Twitter and iTunes.
We invite you to join our readers in celebrating APP's broad spectrum:
- independent research of the best Armenian poetry we can find
- gems by authors from the 19th century to the present
- introduction to out of print books, periodicals and digitized archives
- an index by authors and countries
- experimental works by contemporary authors
- introduction of budding authors, including the APP/ASA poetry competition winners, now in its 8th year
- different languages of expression, mostly Armenian, English or French, with translations provided whenever possible
This project is curated and produced by Lola Koundakjian in New York. To contact APP, send an email to: ArmenianPoetryProject[at]gmail[dot]com.
If YOU ENJOY this website, please consider making a donation via Paypal.com by clicking on the button below. Your donations help maintain the audio website, buy books and replace equipment for the recordings as well as research in libraries.
Ո՜վ Տէր Աստուած,
Մեր նահատակներու
Տառապանքին,
Պաղատանքին,
Ցաւին ու վէրքին,
Անոնց աղօթքի,
Վերջին յոյսին,
Տաժան մահուան,
Անյաղթ հաւատքին
Իրենց լաց ու կոցին մէջ,
Քու արիւնագամ
Խաչին բարձրացան,
Քու ցաւին միաձայն,
Իրենց վերջին շունչով,
Աղերսական կանչերով,
Աղաղակեցին քեզ.
Աստուա՜ծ իմ, Աստուա՜ծ իմ,
Ինչո՞ւ մեզ թողուցիր:
Յովհաննէս Ասպետ
Այս բանաստեղծութիւնը լոյս տեսած է Ֆրանսայի Բանբեր պարբերաթերթի Մարտ-Ապրիլ 2017 թիւին մէջ
Tuesday, April 24 at 7 PM - 9 PM
Babycastles, 145 W 14th St, New York, New York 10011
🇦🇲🇦🇲🇦🇲
Alina Gregorian
Christopher Atamian
Aida Zilelian
Lola Koundakjian
🇦🇲🇦🇲🇦🇲
Alina Gregorian is a poet and artist, and author of the chapbooks Flags for Adjectives (Diez) and Navigational Clouds (Monk Books). Some poems can be found in Boston Review, Prelude, BOMB Magazine, among others. Alina lives in Brooklyn, NY and can be found here alinagregorian.com.
Christopher Atamian is a writer and creative producer of Armenian and Italian background and the grandson of Armenian Genocide survivors. He studied comparative literature as an undergrad at Harvard; television and film production at USC Film School and international marketing at Columbia Business School. Apart from creative endeavors and professional activities as a senior executive in leading media companies and consultancies (ABC, Ogilvy & Mather, Hill + Knowlton Strategies), Atamian has concentrated on community activism. He is the former President and a current board member of AGLA New York, and in 2004 founded Nor Alik, a non-profit cultural organization responsible for producing the First New York Armenian International Film Festival. Atamian also co-produced the OBIE Award-winning play Trouble in Paradise in 2006, as well as several music videos and short films. He was selected for the 2009 Venice Biennale on the basis of his video Sarafian’s Desire and received a 2015 Ellis Island Medal of Honor. He continues to contribute critical pieces to leading publications such as The New York Times Book Review, The Huffington Post, SCENES Media and The Weekly Standard. His first book of poetry A Poet in Washington Heights was published this year by Nauset Press and awarded the 2017 Tölölyan Literary Prize. He was born and still resides in New York City with his dog Chip.
Aida Zilelian is a New York City writer. Her novel THE LEGACY OF LOST THINGS was released in March 2015 (Bleeding Heart Publications) and was the recipient of the 2014 Tololyan Literary Award. Her stories have been published in over twenty-five journals and several anthologies. She has been featured on NPR, the New York Times, the Huffington Post, Kirkus Reviews, among other radio and print platforms. She is also the curator of Boundless Tales, the longest-running reading series in Queens, NY. She recently completed her second novel, The Last Echo Through the Plains. Her short story collection These Hills Were Meant for You was shortlisted in the 2018 Katherine Anne Porter Prize.
Lola Koundakjian is a regular reader in New York City and has appeared in four international poetry festivals. She curates a poetry reading series at the Zohrab Information Center in midtown Manhattan, and since 2006, has promoted Armenian culture with texts, translations and audio for the Armenian Poetry Project. She is the author of The Accidental Observer (2011 USA) and Advice to a Poet (2014 Peru; 2015 USA). Her work has also appeared in journals and anthologies on three continents. www.lolakoundakjian.com
APP and its producer, Lola Koundakjian, retain the right to accept or reject any poetry submission(s) based on the criteria provided by the project description.
Send your comments to armenianpoetryproject[at]gmail[dot]comFollow us on Twitter: @armenianpoetry
Click here for our 15th anniversary clip on youtube.com
