Vino Nobile

Anybody can live without anybody

Will that make the three red coated priests

Answer my question

By running away?

Vino nobile. 

Stop crying for your glass is empty

For the night is full of cries by those

Women who still have bird feathers in their hats

And fox tails around their necks

And they do not recall their names

As all last missions are unfinished

That is why they are the final respite

To all dreams that start in streets of concrete

And end near the bluest of seas

… A bouquet of carnations 

And a door key 

The stony walls of medieval towns

Smell of moisture like young faces do

After hours of tears

About a name they thought to be their last name

Before they learn

That anybody can live without anybody

If their glass is empty

But the vino is nobile

Like a promise made

Under a white parasol

Next to the bluest of seas

July 23, 2018

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2018

Spitting Watermelon Seeds

It was a simple tune, stormy but calm

We once whistled without fear

When the waves crashed by near

Before the moon let her hair down

For a midnight bath

I can still fill my fear

With the thick smell of salty moss

Which made the rocks shine in moonlight

Covered by the acrid cloud of tobacco smoke

For a midnight escape

There were walls of old stones

Eroded and pensive like sailors' wives

Waiting, hoping, yet offering wine and fried fish

To sailors other than their hairy men

For a midnight companionship

... Today

When lightning lights the desert sand in silk

I revisit oceans, mossy rocks and waves

And secretively whistle a tune stormy yet calm

And sometimes wonder if that wall of rocks

Still offers wine and fried fish

To sailors lost

In a midnight moon

And a tune

July 14, 2018

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2018