Thursday, January 31, 2013
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
someday we will climb Mount Ararat and the
remains of Noah's skiff will splinter into our
thumbs and the pads of our fingertips, our
knees will be rubbed red raw by her crags, but
after a week we will sit on her summit Masis and with
throbbing hands and patellae, we will weep over the
clip-winged sparrows and the village of Van where our family
once fashioned jewelry on an estate that lives in
the dreams that were only our grandmother's
faintest and fondest of memories
Mama was only thirteen when the slaughter
began, she sat on the granite wall with a beautiful
box, but her family couldn't bring everything, they had to
leave things behind for the terror to take: the goats
and the uncles and the bodies not yet things they could
call corpses riddled with hatred, stuffed with hearts still
clenched in their fists in their fear in their crumpling
rib cages, still wronged, everything was wrong...
Armenian children are not apples in their mother's
eyes-- we are yellow-orange apricots dried by the
sun and cradled in the palms of those who cradled
us in their tender, weeping wombs; I am my
mother's apricot, and my wrinkles crinkle beneath my
skin because the children of a genocide are from
their first scream, old, and Mom, you and I are remnants
of a place and time raped but we have never allowed
ourselves to die because between the eyes, the muzzle
of a gun is just a molehill and
when we climb Ararat, sweet mother of our grandmothers, we
will watch time tunnel back to Siran and Keghanoush
drawing water and grinning in the sun, and sitting on her
peak Masis, we will weep over the sparrows and the village and
the apricots wrinkled in the dirt, lost from their mother's
palms and spotted from the moisture of our tears:
someday we won't be the only ones who remember.
Rachel Megan Maclean, the winner for the student category is from Northside High School, Roanoke, VA.
She is 17 years old and studies with Mrs. Sally McFall
Honourable mentions to:
Julien Ghouliance 7th grade
Shant Dikran, and Hovig Manoyan, both 6th grade.
St. Gregory Hovsepian School, Pasadena, CA
Sunday, January 27, 2013
donde depositar el alma. Un paisaje,
el que sea, para alimentar los sueños
y viajar con fantasías y delirios.
Un lugar. Aunque el frío te penetre
y la tristeza y el miedo te dobleguen.
Un lugar pobre o derruido, alejado, aislado, abandonado.
Un lugar que te aloje, que te ampare.
Donde vivas, pienses, ames.
El lugar donde creas tu libertad de ser.
Tout est question d'avoir à soi
Un endroit où mettre l'âme
Un paysage, un endroit qui donnerait à vivre aux rêves
Et permettrait de voyager dans le fantasme et le délire
Un lieu. Même si le froid
Que tu sois
Gelé de peur et de tristesse
Un lieu pauvre ou démoli,
Distant, isolé, perdu,
Un lieu qui t’accueille toi,
Qui te protège,
Un endroit où tu vis, tu penses et aimes
Cet endroit où tu composes ta liberté d’exister
adaptation du texte espagnol par Sylvie M. Miller
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Sunday, January 20, 2013
January 21, 1933
Posted by Lola Koundakjian at 1/20/2013 07:00:00 AM
Saturday, January 19, 2013
San Francisco, California
January 14, 1933
Posted by Lola Koundakjian at 1/19/2013 07:00:00 AM
Tuesday, January 15, 2013