2 EPISTLES TO MY DAUGHTER

1.
my bloodless daughter
frolicking in my capillaries all along
stop playing

stop drying up so pompously either
when i water you to grow

close your face with the rain
when i comb your hair
when i make up your eyes and lips
then dandle you to sleep
telling you aaaah

i’m your doll, OK?
i’m your pillow, OK?
i don’t exist — you’re yelling like a black cloud
flooding my house, sticking out your tongue
and walking away despondently
you don’t exist,
girl,
because my heart was generous and naïve
and i kept all the snakes in my bosom
when it was cold
they fed on my body
and when there was nothing left from me
they spat in my empty shadow
licked their lips, content,
and left to find a warm corner

leaning on my dead table
i’m tasting my tears with my tongue — they’re never the same
nor is the amount of the tide
the year is rainy, my daughter
i don’t want hails
so that when i water you, you might grow
i’ll thrust my fingers into the ground,
tickle your roots so that you’ll bloom

send me elderly men, my daughter
skilled gardeners who will soften my tough heart in the cracking sun

2.
my daughter, i washed my hair, dressed
tinted my nails — your favorite crimson—
now that i am so good-looking,
my daughter,
give me the sway to wait for you
to wait for our daddy
and not to be cheated by these sirmaids
that sing from behind seven mountains and seven seas
about castles with tons of stars, planets of gold
which they will send to our moms
as a love price for giving birth to us

i’m scared, my daughter, so scared
that our ship’s helm might turn its direction
and enchanted with the grandeur of a hollow voice
she might hit the reefs
leaving our daddy an orphan
to say nothing of me
and you — forever unborn

Author`Hasmik Simonian

Edited By Samvel Mkrtchyan

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***

City, speak to me in God` s language

And I won` t  understand you…

 

One day the desire to see you will spread through the whole heavens

Pod after pod the parts of your presence will fill my eyes.

Lying in my bed I will hug the pillow and will feel

That I press the ugly happiness of your streets to my breast.

 

Closing my eyes with my hands

And the noon will be closer to my lips

And the colourless distance of the heavens will rev in the air with the presence of blue birds

And the tattooed barbed wire will bleed my front.

 

The uncalled-for abuse of AND-s is weary to me

And sitting beside candles like lotus too.

Accept my religion, city, that became poetry now and then…

 

After drinking coffee with your lips that have tobacco taste

Entangle your pray under your lids that have no night.

I` ll miss the journal-tableclothes of your ”Jeansnoc”

And your parody, in which  there is more of you than you.

 

Love me, my city, this is me-

More expensive or cheaper than your pies with cheese.

If you are frozen, hug me-now I have heat

If it is hot-multiply two of Satan-I` ve already hugged you.

City, I` m inside you, like a mother carrying her unborn baby

Birth me or as you like. I` m yours…..

Author`Hasmik Simonian

***

feet beat the asphalt like drums

jazz descends through the trumpet`s throat like the boiled honey

you cough-

your scarf is light your trousers are worn out

smoke me,-you ask,-smoke me

as nycturia smokes my body

as my parents smoke my childhood and what comes after it

as my lovers  leave my rudeness and smoke my tongue

smoke me,please,smoke me

I would forget the boys whom I`ve given birth

and nobody would kiss me at the moment of entering

and wouldn`t say good-bye before leaving

my palate feels the presence of DEATH

like it would feel the darkest chocolate

mealted

condensated

and black

everybody has gone and i close my eyes and then open

it seems we`ve not been speaking to each other for a long time

and that day`s drug grows in our veins

my daughter,when you die

I would become the city whore

the ownerless dogs would tear my body to pieces

and the cyclists would come up and down on the moon over my nerves

I want close the door and swallow the key

I don`t manage doing it

I want to smile as once

it is not the same

I want come to you like a useful thing

like an electric guitar, like a planet, like a book

applaud, my daughter

applaud

my heart is aching

cause the hall is empty

who would give birth to children for you, my daughter

who would say nice words, caress your shoulder

whose  ear lobe would you bite

would you sing under rain

would you write down words

would your feet be hard, your thighs be tight

would you live in the electric guitar

would you get on your planet and go away

I would wake up terrified at 00:00:00

my eyelids would be heavier, leaden

my wet bed would shiver with me

seemingly opening my eyes

i would smoke

seemingly closing my eyes…

and nobody would be near to my heart, nobody

only the sharp smell of the pain would be

that would spread through air like JAZZ

like a lit  off cigarette

i would shout your name

you wouldn`t hear me

i would do it once more

you wouldn`t hear me

and i would shout in low voice

not to awake you all of a sudden

my stringed girl sleeping under the guitar nerves

peaceful like ROCK music and hard like JAZZ

do you hear feet beating the asphalt like drums

and even if i don`t  know playing

i would  pick up the trumpet and would tell you a sad lullaby

about run-down people who would be destroyed tomorrow

and instead of them they would built a new avenue

do you hear feet beating the asphalt like drums

Author`Hasmik  Simonian

***

Here is the sea of uncertainty

Which overcomes me  immediately

I` m waiting where will wind

Take my sail, which he` s found.

Tumbling down slowly

I` m resolving to small bits

And I` m not feeling inside of me

No grain of any pity.

As a being in harmony with

The freaks of ground and time

I adopt shapes

No man can achieve making any effort.

And I live if

The obedience of the movement to foreign will is called ”LIFE”

Day by day I dissociate

In Air, Water, Soil and Bud.

And I don` t know if my face

Familiar to all of you will return

When in star-proximal distance

My millennium will pass.

When the universal bonds,

Estranging us, disappear

In the most swallowed and reconciled sands of time…

again can`t remember the author` name…

hunt

 

I close the doors and the windows

Put on my cloths, button up

wrapping in a choking scarf

Bind my eyes,

fill my ears, my nose with propolis

and you can`t come in  in any way

through air, bacillus, through whispers and voice

that you do not come in in  any way

to be forgotten, evaporate.

 

I think up wails in honour of you

and do away with you with the thousands of graces

prick your cadaver on the toxic and passionate arrows dunked into my love

drag your body to the basement

muggy and cold, lightless and without HS

leave you there as the feed for rats

and after you I cry like a little child

saying uncared and unused speeches in your address

generally love-natured speeches

the padlock of the door looking at me doesn`t understand whether open or not(close)

 

the staircases ask-“Shall  we pull down,HS,or…”

no pull down-mull down,-I say it rather indifferently and peacefully,- become soil and dust.

and looking up at the sky in order not to allow my tears to pour out drop by drop

 

And with the full eyes I don`t see but feel

that this hour sun is my docked head

that I bleed about you with this sunset, as everyday

like a dutiful state worker

at the end of the day forgetting about both me and you

and keep on forgetting from Abovyan street to the North Avenue, it`s not difficult to guess

that you observing me on the far will come up purposely and insidiously

I`ll greet you half-heartedly

with a not seeing look that you won`t understand-

it was me  who yowled in my diary that

not to kiss your lips is as the same as do not have lips at all,

that I thought up wails in honour of you

and plaited numberless songs

it wasn`t me, my dear

it was you

it was you that pricked my body on the toxic arrows of your love

it was you that rejoiced at your successful hunt with the wild luster in your hungry and shining eyes

Emitting throat sounds, and my bleeding body

was swinging peacefully and indifferently, indifferently and peacefully

on your brawny shoulder

with the putrid smell that was quite a love

with a docked head which couldn`t see, but feel that

I was bleeding about you, you, you………….

 

Author`Hasmik Simonian

letter

Sitting in my planet

I`m waiting for you

I`m alone in this planet

There is nobody here

As I was leaving the planet

A cat licked my leg

I thought-He loved me

Sitting in my planet for a long time

I was mewing

And the cat understands that

I was waiting for you

Here there`s a small ocean

But as I can not swim

I try to believe that

There`s no small ocean at all

Here there are no houses

There are no roads

And there are no buildings too

And as first I said, “I`m alone here”

Last time that I built a house I was a lil` child

I did it with mud

Then with legos

Then I grew older

As I was leaving the planet and no cat licked my leg yet

I determined to have fish

I went to “Forestsounds” shop

And as I had no money

And as I was in the planet for the last time

I began to watch the fish for a long time

And went out

Looking at the small ocean from far

Fish appear in my eyes

And I began to wait for you longer

My planet

I

My cat

Fish in my eyes

We all know

That our days are doors

Behind which you won`t stand

Looking at the ocean reminds me of bathroom and my books

I miss voice, smell, color of the city

I miss God…

The planet understands me

Nobody`ll speak to me after midnight

I lay on the planet

Clutch and wait

Till my mother call me home from the neighbour planet

And usually here poetry begins

That is completely different poem…

Author` Hasmik Simonian

***

My hands in my pockets

I` ll whistle a love song, which I have not heard ever

 

Tonight the sky will turn blue because of cold

And tomorrow at noon I` ll be watching the funniest cartoon

And crying my eyes out

Motivated from an unusual loneliness

I` ll walk

Walk

And walk

 

My hands in my pockets

Whistling a love song, which I don` t remember hearing or not.

 

The night like hitlerian chocolate

Will slide his fingers along my lips

Insomnia will conquet

I` ll throw my papers to hell

And according to laws of physics

I` ll wrap the formulated love in tobacco leaf

And later when you` ll be having coffee I` ll give it to you

And let Ministry of Health learn to listen to RAP

Though ROCK sounds cooler nowadays…

 

I` ll walk

Walk

And walk

 

And I` ll sit down on one of the stairs of Cascade

I` ll pick up an empty bottle filled with noon

Later I` ll break it as a sign of  ”Good Luck”

And like a drunk raft

I` ll lie in sad snow over my native town

And my hands under my head

I` ll whistle about something

Before your leaving or before your arriving or after it……….

Author` Hasmik Simonian