I think again of my self, at the dining room table, or squatting beneath, sketching my father, seated next to mother, crocheting, smoking or reading his Armenian newspaper, silently enduring his life, the puzzle of […]
Being alone means fear clouding everything My eyes feel heavy like I am heavily medicated Almost like they, as their own people, are pressured to stay open I am pressured to converse with my eyes, […]
I am sitting at the shore of Kınalı*. The Marmara Sea opens—serene and blue— I fling a rock into the sea. I pitch the rock—rings float on the Marmara— I pitch the rock—new rings form […]
In 2017, the Columbia Artists/Teachers (CA/T) program at Columbia University embarked on what may rightly be regarded as a pedagogical experiment: an online writing class that connected Masters in Writing candidates from Columbia University with […]
Editor’s Note: This poem was written directly in response to recent statements denying the Armenian Genocide from Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan at the recent G20 summit in Argentina. In response to a question from a journalist of […]
If you look beneath my skin tone, you will see My indigenous Armenian marginalized reality Granddaughter of pained survivor 1915 Armenian Genocide by the Ottoman Turks Black, brown, red, yellow skinned indigenous people Share the […]
It [my blood] flows like a lagoon Promise me you’ll drown in it I’ll meet you underneath it Till red meets red crimson red Vomit Blood, Vomit Blood Cry for me, let me see your […]
Buddha in a bottle Serenity in a sip Cold liquor by the candle lit Take your time have a seat Sip us up till you sleep Dream of green glass days Till life is […]
Author’s Note: This poem is dedicated to my grandfather, Popkin Mooradian, who died recently at the age of 96. He was born to immigrants of the Armenian Genocide and grew up in inner city Detroit. […]
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