Worlds shortest poem

09 Tuesday Jul 2013

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Shortest poem Aram Saroyan

This poem was written by Aram Saroyan, an Armenian-American poet, novelist, biographer, memoirist and playwright. Saroyan’s four-legged “m” has been cited in the Guinness Book of Records as the world’s shortest poem. The meaning of it has been subject to discussion. Some have called it: “a closeup of an alphabet being born” – Bob Grumman. Its sells still in the process of dividing, ‘m’ and the ‘n’, not quit separated. It is also a pun on “I am”, implying the formation of consciousness itself.

Aram Saroyan was also the author of the most controversial poem that simply read: “lighght” in the center of a blank page. This poem was selected by George Plimpton to be featured in The American Literary Anthology and received a $500 cash award from the National Endowment for the Arts, resulting in a huge controversy involving the US government. Read all about the controversy by following the…

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love is a sad lament i must sing to the clouds

08 Monday Jul 2013

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“Not knowing that I am pillowed among the crags on Kamo Mountain, my wife must still be waiting for my return. ‘Today, today!’ each day I have waited for you and now they say you are strewn with the shells of Ishi River! Love is a sad lament I must sing to the clouds as they pass Ishi River.”

— from Manyoshu’s Collection of Ten thousand Leaves (Japanese Anthology compiled in 759 AD) and the OVA Blue Sub #6 (2000 AD)

minete and a room full of holes

05 Friday Jul 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, Portuguese, Translation

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Doce a palavra. Minete.
Doce o sal na minha língua.
Desperta, meu sangue.
Negue que me amas três vezes antes do amanhecer.
Perdoai-me porque te desejo tanto.
Doce teu mágica.
Transforme teu esporra em vinho.
Como beato, ajoelho-me entre tuas coxas, irmã.
Minete. Desejo ser bebido.
.
Sweet word. Minete.
Sweet salt on my tongue.
Awake, my blood.
Deny that you love me three times before dawn.
Forgive me because I desire so much.
Your sweet magic.
Turn your cum into wine.
How blessed I kneel between your thighs, sister.
Minete. I wish to be drunk.

X3

X1

Note from author:

There aren’t a whole lot of foreign words in the world for cunnilingus (the English didn’t have one for so long that they had to steal the idea from the French). Minete is one of those words. It’s Portuguese and my dictionary defines it thus:

S.f. (calão) Prática de sexo oral que consiste na estimulação do órgão genital feminino, em especial o clitoris, com a língua ou os lábios. O mesmo que cunnilingus. (Do francês «minet») exemplo de: Afastou-lhe as coxas e começou a fazer-lhe lentamente um minete.

sounds so rude

02 Tuesday Jul 2013

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.
After your third moon’s dry menstruation,
after your third divorce and third tonic
without the gin. After the gin. Pardon
this dull child in love with you, your chronic,
lickity-clit poetry. The lyric
of the older woman and her green bud.
I can’t fly, but I can lick like a buck
at a salt-lick. Fill you, with acid-blood
alcohol and joy. Pardon your dull child
who makes you cry and cum. The gods, leading
me to you, knew your needs. We are all crude.
Shameless. All these teachers and students. Wild
fucks and praise for learning new words; making
what you call “motherly love” sound so rude.
.

 

 

blood ties

27 Thursday Jun 2013

Posted by in Illustration and art, Poetry, sonnet

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fa1

y un azoro de mujer/ llora a su cedro de Líbano
— and a ruin of a woman/ cries for her cedar of Lebanon
[from Gabriela Mistral, La Fugitiva]

Sister somewhere it’s my mother’s birthday
soon so I must go and find her. You said
why? warned that nostalgia is a cliche.
How can I answer why? Sister, instead,
please let me wash your feet before I go.
Let me clothe you in something more than dust.
We all say that we will return, I know,
and then we never do. You’re my bravest
friend, so if I can find that shining path
back to you then I will find you. You claim
all blood ties complicate things, like men’s laws,
and should be smashed. Perhaps. But, a bloodbath
will not help us be together. Don’t blame
blood. You asked me: Why? I tell you: Because.

poet’s note: I’ll be gone for a couple of days celebrating my mother’s birthday. Wish me luck, I’m looking for the path now.

fa11

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remembering zaruhi petrosyan

26 Wednesday Jun 2013

Posted by in Armenia, Feminism

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zaruipetrosyanaaabbb

This is a friend I will never know, a sister I will never meet, a teacher I will never learn from.

This is Zaruhi Petrosyan. She was beaten to death by her husband. There are no domestic violence laws in Armenia; no place for women to go for safety; no one to turn to for help.

But change can only happen from within, domestic violence will only stop when it is taken seriously and not viewed as a private, family issue the government has no business with. I, personally, never want to lose another Zaruhi. Please consider signing this petition. Thank you.

PETITION LETTER:

Dear Prime Minister Mr. Tigran Sargsyan,

According to research in 2008, a quarter of women in Armenia are victims of domestic violence. These women think they can’t report the violence or rape because of social stigmas and pressure from others. Although there are steps in your country to fight gender-based violence, there needs to be specific laws directed at domestic violence. Please take steps to create laws fighting domestic violence.

If laws don’t specify violence within a family from violence with strangers, the proper protocol can’t be taken. Police sometimes see domestic violence as a “family matter,” which makes women think it is acceptable. This leads to women not reporting violence and Armenia as a whole covering up a serious problem. The other problem is women do not have the resources, such as shelters, to get the necessary help when they are victims of violence. I am asking you to create laws that will prevent domestic violence and punish the assailants.

Sincerely,

[Your Name Here]

do not be afraid

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Demo

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