BY ARA MGRDICHIAN
a tiny fist clutches eternity
prying open oblivion,
a drop of blood
right in the middle…
the dilating pupil
of a wrinkled eye
bloodshot lines mapping
ancient topographies
across an unclenched life…
an open hand…
like a swaying desert palm
***
you were here once
and now you’re gone,
but you come back
again and again…
how I loved you…
and how I love you still,
even through this pain,
so brutal and banal
the coursing sting of centuries
lining up like soldiers
along our upturned hearts
lines cutting stone
hands caressing forever
cauterized
swaying
sculpting intonations
well past gaping holes
and mounds of dirt
waxen figures melting
into sand
with scars that stay unearthed
***
you once stood here
and I can still hear you
against the coarse gravel
climbing
half ton bombs dropping
from the bellies of jets
commandeered by killers
spreading slaughter
their earthbound descent
dopplerizing skies
***
I remember explosions
shaking the earth
far enough away
to briefly ponder
if the salt we spilt
at the table, in Arachatsor,
could have started this war
then I realize
we must have only begun
this tenuous peace
that would never come
***
a tiny hand clutches at oblivion
an earth shattering fist
pummels eternity…
you once stood here
and I still love you.
—akm
Ara Mgrdichian is akm. He is a writer, photographer, and counselor who has worked with young people and their families, in and out of the scholastic environment, for more than 20 years. He is a Los Angeles native and matriculated at UCLA (BA) and PLNU (MA and PPS).
He was a founding member, writer, and artist for Exile, a bi-lingual, bi-cultural, literary supplement published by Asbarez, and also worked as Assistant Editor for the Asbarez English Edition both before and after Armenian independence.
Mgrdichian worked and lived in Armenia, with stints in the Nagorno Karabakh Republic from 1990 – 1993, as well as 2003 – 2004. You may see and hear more at akmi.tv and srcinfo.net, as well as akmimedia.com.
Source: Asbarez
Link: Hands