Category Archives: Erotic

տաք ջուր է ցնցուղ

09 Tuesday Apr 2013

Posted by in Armenian, Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Տաք ջուր է ցնցուղ,

դուք լվանում հեռավորության վրա, թե ինչ ենք արել.

Կամ գոնե փորձում եք.
.

Hot water in the shower,

you wash away everything we just did.

Or at least you try.

Whitman. Sappho. Neruda.

09 Tuesday Apr 2013

Posted by in Armenia, Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Ուիթմեն. Սապփո. Ներուդա.
Տաղ. Հնչեակ. Վիպերգ.
Ես գրում եմ իմ բանաստեղծությունները վրա ձեր ծլիկ.

Whitman. Sappho. Neruda.
Ode. Sonnet. Ballad.
I write my poems on your clit.

* * *

Notes:

As far as I know these are the correct spellings in Armenian of these poets’ names. Պաբլո Ներուդա (Pablo Neruda), Ուոլթ Ուիթմեն (Walt Whitman) and Սապփո (Sappho).

Writing, as they say, is a gamble. We put our art out for the world to see, and then hope the reader enjoys it enough to write back. Some people find their audience right away and some never do. I have no idea where the audience for this poem is, but I am willing to take the chance that once I send it out into the void that is the Internet it will, slowly, find its way to the one who it’s intended for. And who knows? That person might even help me with my grammar, since my ability to write in Armenian is շատ վատ (very bad). Cheers!

the road to enlightenment has many paths

08 Monday Apr 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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“… loveroot, silk thread, crotch and vine.”
— Walt Whitman

I’m not interested in who suffered more,
just those who mastered pain’s blood alphabet.
Trust joy. If what you long for is a door
that will lead you to love do not forget
that the door is here. What other purpose
could the orgasm have but to let me
talk to gods? At the moment of climax
when I leave behind ego and body
I call that act enlightenment – no hate,
attachment or pain – only bliss. Only
pilgrims working hard at their nightly prayers,
at blood’s loveroot. Don’t trust those who dictate
the path to wisdom. They are not holy
like you and all of your sticky fingers.