• hopilavayi: an erotic dictionary

memories of my ghost sista

~ the dead are never satisfied

memories of my ghost sista

Category Archives: Poetry

child mother and calf

26 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on child mother and calf

Tags

child mother and calf, I love you all, poem, Poetry, sonnet, the forgotten dead

“the bridge remembers” — Wong May

To the forgotten dead, the unhonored,
silent; to those still with untamed passion,

the mad ones, those still in love with the word;
to those never buried, without coffin,

gravestone or name. Come, your lover calls you.
Come, I remember your name. My lovers

number in the millions because those who
take so much pride in race and ancestors

are the worst caring for them. So I call
and call. Some hear. Some answer. Abandoned

is a curse. Come home, love, come. I have love
enough for us all. My bed is nightfall,

my kiss is the moon. Come, don’t be frightened;
wolf and child, mother and calf, kite and dove.

i met two who knew my name

25 Monday Aug 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Illustration and art, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on i met two who knew my name

Tags

art, biblical erotica, I met two who knew my name, poem, Poetry, sonnet

two

three

four

one

On the road I met two who knew my name
which is never a good sign. When angels

and ghosts know who you are, that sort of fame
only ends poorly. I don’t trust mortals

who claim to know what happens after death.
By life’s own definition no one can.

Mystics travel far. Yogis count each breath.
Skeptics laugh. We’re all sure what will happen

next, poor sods, and we’re all missing the point.
Perhaps I will leave with those two today,

perhaps not. I’m still in deep, my debt
unpaid and I want to tear up this joint,

run wild and be ignorantly blase.
There’s some knowledge that I don’t want just yet.

out of this wasteland endlessly turning

23 Saturday Aug 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on out of this wasteland endlessly turning

Tags

barren, ghostly cat, poem, Poetry, sad, sonnet, tomboy

Make her a tomboy, one who likes to read;
with hair down to her hips. Every evening

I would loosen it, pick out each hayseed
and green bumble-burr, then brush it, twisting

it up into two plaits, like horse’s reigns
that would hang down her back. She would love math

and stars; fill her summer days with grass stains,
kissing and wild roving. Like Hera’s wrath

none would dare call her “foundling,” “witch’s brat”
or “fay” within earshot. The Blessed Arbor

would be hers; birthright only to children
of the gods. Forgive me, my ghostly cat,

my lost foal; you see, I have no daughter,
and my dreams, like my body, are barren.

garcia lorca’s sorpresa [por michael brown]

13 Wednesday Aug 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenian, Poetry, Spanish, Translation

≈ Comments Off on garcia lorca’s sorpresa [por michael brown]

Tags

Federico Garcia Lorca, Ferguson, Michael Brown, Missouri, poem, Poetry, Sorpresa

… because even as I work on this translation another person has been shot by police in Ferguson, MO.  As Garcia Lorca said about an apathetic country when its children are murdered by their own police, “Nobody could look into his eyes staring up into the hard air.” I suppose this is the point where I say something cliché like, “I pray for peace,” when in reality the only way there will be peace is when those who have been hiding behind their “to serve and protect” badges are held accountable.

][

SORPRESA

— by Federico Garcia Lorca

Muerto se quedó en la calle con un puñal en el pecho.

No lo conocía nadie.

¡Cómo temblaba el farol!

¡Madre, cómo temblaba el farolito de la calle!

Era madrugada.

Nadie pudo asomarse a sus ojos abiertos al duro aire.

Que muerto se quedó en la calle que con un puñal en el pecho y que no lo conocía nadie.

][

[in English]

SURPRISE

Dead they left him in the street with a knife in his chest.

No one knew who he was.

How the lamppost trembled!

Mother! How the little lantern trembled!

It was early morning.

Nobody could look into his eyes staring up into the hard air.

And he was dead in the street with a knife in his chest, and no one knew who he was.

][

[in Armenian, transliteration]

ANAKNKAL

Merrats e, vor lk’yel e nran p’voghots’um danakov ir krtsk’avandaki.

Voch’ vok’ ch’giter, t’ye ov e na:

Vor lapterasyun vakhets’av!

Mayry! P’vok’r lamperi vakhets’av!

Da vagh arravotyan:

Voch’ vok’ ch’i karogh nayel nra ach’k’yeri mej ch’ap’azants’ ach’k’i ynknogh mej tsanr od:

Yev na merrats p’voghots’um danakov ir krtsk’avandaki, yev voch’ vok’ ch’giter, t’ye ov e ink’y:

][

[in Armenian]

ԱՆԱԿՆԿԱԼ

Մեռած է, որ լքել է նրան փողոցում դանակով իր կրծքավանդակի.

Ոչ ոք չգիտեր, թե ով է նա:

Որ լապտերասյուն վախեցավ!

Մայրը! Փոքր լամպերի վախեցավ!

Դա վաղ առավոտյան:

Ոչ ոք չի կարող նայել նրա աչքերի մեջ չափազանց աչքի ընկնող մեջ ծանր օդ:

Եւ նա մեռած փողոցում դանակով իր կրծքավանդակի, եւ ոչ ոք չգիտեր, թե ով է ինքը:

garcia lorca’s la guitarra [in english and armenian]

13 Wednesday Aug 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in Illustration and art, Poetry, Spanish, Translation

≈ Comments Off on garcia lorca’s la guitarra [in english and armenian]

Tags

Armenian translation, art, Federico Garcia Lorca, la guitarra, poem, Poetry

awesome

Note from the Translator:

I must apologize with my sorry attempts to bring a beautiful Spanish poem by Federico Garcia Lorca into both English (my mother tongue) and fantastic Armenian. I’ve been told on more than one occasion that both my grasp of Spanish and Armenian are comically pathetic, usually by native speakers, which is only fair. However, life is short and as far as I can tell there is nobody who lives near by to help in my translations, so I present these new labors, not because it is the best that you can find for free on the Internets but because it’s the best that I can do. You’ll find four versions here; the original Spanish, my English translation, and since not a lot of people can read pure, uncut Armenian, a transliteration version as well as the pure Heyeren. Hope it does not displease. Cheers!

][

LA GUITARRA

— Federico Garcia Lorca

Empieza el llanto de la guitarra.

Se rompen las copas de la madrugada.

Empieza el llanto de la guitarra.

Es inútil callarla.

Es imposible callarla.

Llora monótona como llora el agua, como llora el viento sobre la nevada.

Es imposible callarla.

Llora por cosas lejanas.

Arena del Sur caliente que pide camelias blancas.

Llora flecha sin blanco, la tarde sin mañana, y el primer pájaro muerto sobre la rama.

¡Oh guitarra!

Corazón malherido por cinco espadas.

][

[in English]

THE GUITAR

The crying of the guitar begins.

The glasses of dawn are broken.

The crying of the guitar begins.

It is useless to stop her.

It is impossible to stop her.

She weeps endlessly, as water weeps, as the wind weeps over the snow.

It is impossible to stop her.

She weeps for things remote.

The hot southern sands yearning for a white camellia.

A weeping arrow without target, evening without morning, and the first dead bird on the branch.

Ai, guitar!

Heart wounded by five knives.

][

[in Armenian, transliteration]

KIT’ARR

Sksvum e kit’arri lats’y.

Skahakner ein arravotyan kotrel.

Sksvum e kit’arri lats’y.

Anogut e lrrets’nel ayn.

Anhnar e lrrets’nel ayn.

Da lats’ e linum anverj, ayn lats’ e linum jri pes, ayn lats’ e linum nman k’amu nkatmamb dzyan.

Kit’arry artasvum e baneri hamar herravor.

T’yezh haravayin avazner klk’i spitak kamelianeri.

Lats’ e linum mez slak’y arrants’ npatakayin yerekoyan, arrants’ arravotyan, yev arrajin mahats’ats t’rrch’ni masnachyughi.

Ai, kit’arr!

Sirty mahats’u viravorvats e hing danakner.

][

[in Armenian] 

ԿԻԹԱՌ

Սկսվում է կիթառի լացը:

Սկահակներ էին առավոտյան կոտրել:

Սկսվում է կիթառի լացը:

Անօգուտ է լռեցնել այն:

Անհնար է լռեցնել այն:

Դա լաց է լինում անվերջ, այն լաց է լինում ջրի պես, այն լաց է լինում նման քամու նկատմամբ ձյան:

Կիթառը արտասվում է բաների համար հեռավոր:

Թեժ հարավային ավազներ կլքի սպիտակ կամելիաների:

Լաց է լինում մեզ սլաքը առանց նպատակային երեկոյան, առանց առավոտյան, եւ առաջին մահացած թռչնի մասնաճյուղի:

Օ, կիթառ!

Սիրտը մահացու վիրավորված է հինգ դանակներ:

with the word pervert

08 Friday Aug 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on with the word pervert

Tags

damning erotic life, nasty, pervert, Poetry, sonnet

“nasty boys/ don’t mean a thing …”
— Janet Jackson (1986)

I love how “pervert” is still genderless,
and how anyone can play. Other’s porn

seldom is open-minded. Who’d say “yes”
to things that they’re not hard wired for? You scorn

so much and still claim to be broad-minded.
Curious. I’ve smoked Whitman’s Leaves of Grass.

finger-fucked Sexton in her sad bed, slid
my tongue over Lorca’s cock. Rumi’s ass

hung like the moon. Shams’ too. Still, you can’t guess
who I am with the word “pervert.” Riddle

me this: why are you so frigid-rigid
with all your desires? You who profess

to be nasty? You say that you’re lustful …
but you won’t touch me, bite me, drink my blood.

what you call a pimp and a priest

28 Monday Jul 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Feminism, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on what you call a pimp and a priest

Tags

Colonizers, Donkey Show, erotic poetry, Garden of Earthly Delights, Pasiphae, pimp and priest, Queen Tatana, sonnet, Tijuana, We the Other

Earthiness … “Rutting like beasts in the field” …
It’s hard when the squeamish Colonizers

(all those who never once blurred a line, squealed,
cried or howled) wail against the Others.

There are bars in Boy’s Town, Tijuana,
with their Donkey Shows; “See the Minotaur’s

Mother, Pasiphaë! See Queen Tatana
Seduce the Divine Ass!”
Down on all fours

in Bosche’s “Garden of Earthly Delights” …
We force others to perform all the time

and it’s never enough. If there is sin
it’s these selfish, unending appetites.

The pimp who praises himself in cheap rhyme.
The priest who sees hell in my naked skin.

lapping thistledown

27 Sunday Jul 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Illustration and art, Poetry

≈ Comments Off on lapping thistledown

Tags

age difference, art, erotic poetry, incest, mother and child

car car

piano

bed

purple

kitchen

star

wet as a swamp/ drowning between her thighs/ lapping thistledown

heat shimmers/ in the shade of her bedroom/ the widow goes down

two virgin boys/ all that defines me/ endless hunger, she said

he-she-he/ their teacher showed them how/ to enter together

my heroes are always/ undersexed with/ with the most vivid of imaginations …

my scandalous love affair with things that go bump in the night

23 Wednesday Jul 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, haiku, Illustration and art, Poetry

≈ Comments Off on my scandalous love affair with things that go bump in the night

Tags

art, damning erotic life, erotic poetry, grass stains on your knees, haiku, hard ghost, missing moon, things that go bump in the night, your husband's grave

blue

green

yellow

your husband’s tombstone
between all the weeds I steal
our very first kiss

][

before dawn: nightfall
and my dead lover’s cock shall
rise, mount the hard ghost

][

grass stains on your knees,
your back, the palms of your hands,
inside you … the dead

][

spring’s last missing moon
this damning erotic life
the one that we choose

are you thunder? are you lightning? are you the ionized atmosphere right before all hell breaks loose?

22 Tuesday Jul 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in haiku, Poetry

≈ Comments Off on are you thunder? are you lightning? are you the ionized atmosphere right before all hell breaks loose?

Tags

are you lightning?, are you the ionized atmosphere?, are you thunder?, haiku, poem, Poetry

summer heat melting
between our lips, hinting at
the downpour to come

← Older posts
Newer posts →

age difference anal sex Armenia Armenian Genocide Armenian translation ars poetica art artist unknown blow job Chinese translation conversations with imaginary sisters cum cunnilingus drama erotic erotica erotic poem erotic poetry Federico Garcia Lorca fellatio finger fucking free verse ghost ghost girl ghost lover gif Gyumri haiku homoerotic homoerotica Humor i'm spilling more thank ink y'all incest Lilith Lord Byron Love shall make us a threesome masturbation more than just spilled ink more than spilled ink mythology ocean mythology Onna bugeisha orgasm Peace Corps photo poem Poetry Portuguese Portuguese translation prose quote unquote reblog retelling Rumi Sappho sea folklore Shakespeare sheismadeinpoland sonnet sorrow Spanish Spanish translation spilled ink story Taoist Pirate rituals Tarot Tarot of Syssk thank you threesome Titus Andronicus translation video Walt Whitman woman warrior xenomorph

electric mayhem [links]

  • armenian erotica and news
  • discos bizarros argentinos
  • poesia erótica (português)
  • aimee mann
  • sandra bernhard
  • Poetic K [myspace]
  • cyndi lauper

Meta

  • Create account
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Blog Stats

  • 401,686 hits

Categories

ars poetica: the blogs a-b

  • afterglow
  • aliki barnstone
  • cecilia ann
  • lynn behrendt
  • brilliant books
  • emma bolden
  • american witch
  • alzheimer's poetry project
  • sandra beasley
  • sommer browning
  • kristy bowen
  • all things said and done
  • mary biddinger
  • stacy blint
  • the art blog
  • black satin
  • wendy babiak
  • afghan women's writing project
  • armenian poetry project
  • megan burns
  • Alcoholic Poet
  • clair becker
  • margaret bashaar
  • tiel aisha ansari

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 44 other subscribers

Archives

ars poetica: the blogs c-d

  • michelle detorie
  • jennifer k. dick
  • roberto cavallera
  • abigail child
  • CRB
  • flint area writers
  • lyle daggett
  • maria damon
  • cheryl clark
  • juliet cook
  • cleveland poetics
  • jackie clark
  • natalia cecire
  • julie carter
  • linda lee crosfield
  • lorna dee cervantes

ars poetica: the blogs e-h

  • sarah wetzel fishman
  • pamela hart
  • carol guess
  • elisa gabbert
  • jessica goodfellow
  • maggie may ethridge
  • julie r. enszer
  • Free Minds Book Club
  • elizabeth glixman
  • maureen hurley
  • herstoria
  • human writes
  • joy harjo
  • liz henry
  • jane holland
  • ghosts of zimbabwe
  • carrie etter
  • hayaxk (ՀԱՅԱՑՔ)
  • joy garnett
  • bernardine evaristo
  • amanda hocking
  • jeannine hall gailey
  • Gabriela M.

ars poetica: the blogs i-l

  • laila lalami
  • lesbian poetry archieves
  • diane lockward
  • maggie jochild
  • irene latham
  • sandy longhorn
  • Jaya Avendel
  • amy king
  • Kim Whysall-Hammond
  • miriam levine
  • gene justice
  • emily lloyd
  • language hat
  • dick jones
  • las vegas poets organization
  • donna khun
  • joy leftow
  • lesley jenike
  • megan kaminski
  • a big jewish blog
  • renee liang
  • IEPI
  • charmi keranen
  • sheryl luna
  • kennifer kilgore-caradec
  • meg johnson

ars poetica: the blogs m-o

  • Nanny Charlotte
  • january o'neil
  • motown writers
  • My Poetic Side
  • sharanya manivannan
  • majena mafe
  • caryn mirriam-goldberg
  • nzepc
  • michelle mc grane
  • michigan writers network
  • michigan writers resources
  • maud newton
  • mlive: michigan poetry news
  • iamnasra oman
  • heather o'neill
  • wanda o'connor
  • adrienne j. odasso
  • new issues poetry & prose
  • marion mc cready
  • ottawa poetry newsletter
  • sophie mayer
  • the malaysian poetic chronicles

ars poetica: the blogs p-r

  • kristin prevallet
  • rachel phillips
  • Queen Majeeda
  • helen rickerby
  • sophie robinson
  • nicole peyrafitte
  • nikki reimer
  • susan rich
  • split this rock
  • joanna preston
  • maria padhila
  • ariana reines

ars poetica: the blogs s-z

  • womens quarterly conversation
  • tim yu
  • Stray Lower
  • southern michigan poetry
  • shin yu pai
  • tuesday poems
  • sexy poets society
  • vassilis zambaras
  • ron silliman
  • Trista's Poetry
  • scottish poetry library
  • switchback books

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • memories of my ghost sista
    • Join 44 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • memories of my ghost sista
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar

Loading Comments...