I traveled down the rolling hills
Across the fetid plains
Across rolling desert sands
That nearly dashed my brains
In rags and dust and grime and shit I walked down to the sea
My forefathers were all farmers
But there’s vagabond in me Continue reading
Tag Archives: Armenian
Father Ouzo
I’ve met a pastor named Shandy
And vicar named Brandy
And a sister named Whiskey, it’s true
But for my tribulations
Across this creation
There’s but one thing that can get me through
For when I’m gone
And it’s rough
It’s that licorice stuff
That leads me to my life again
He’s a Greek
Never weak
He’s a cloudy-white freak…
Father Ouzo, forgive me my sins. Continue reading
There are two sides to every Hayren…
Steve Translates a Hayren from the German Book that Mike Gave Him
I envy him, who with love
Escaping with his lover in arms
Barely over the broken bridge
They leave but none of their charms
Rime and snow carries their steps
Their trail, to blur and harm
He finds his way to gardens
And love was new and warm
19
There are nineteen poems that never existed
Nor will they ever exist
They are locked between pages
In a library of never were
Shelved with forgotten thoughts
You can shout silently all you like
But you’ll never read them
Of course, you know this
And you ache anyway.
Master Librarian 