I still carry a small notebook in my back pocket. Because I worry that thoughts, things I see or hear will not find enough space in my memory to nestle. The pen and paper have a unique relationship when it comes to writing, even when I still write down my “to do” or groceries lists on paper.
I also write poetry that way. Over 35 years of international travel, I wrote on planes, in hotel rooms, and during walks in streets of four continents. Most of what I wrote was not to publish – just to show my gratitude for the moment. I wrote in four languages, on the margins of airline magazines; on the back of “Welcome” cards left in my hotel rooms; and, even on purchase receipts. Most have been lost through time.
Here is a snapshot from the pocketbook I carry these days:
As a street photographer, my photography is similar to capturing my thoughts of the moment. And, like pen and paper, I still use B&W film, and antique mechanical cameras. They have a unique relationship with the photographer.
... I picked up a poetry book for my weekend reading and was surprised by the page marker on page 10. It was a poem I had written, and forgot, 13 years ago during a stay on Lake Como in Italy. After reading it, what seemed to feel like the first time, I recalled the occasion and reason. So, I put down the poetry book and let my memories fill the moment.
Here is the poem. But more importantly, the joy of rediscovering what Lake Como had kept in silence for more than a decade.
Italian
Alps as Background
A chapel embayed in a sea of devil's
claws
Atop once a rock
A lake deluded by morning fog
A stony path faintly feline and glabrous
A look I took there to cache
Among milkweed shining in morning dew
A smile, the sweet smell of her tremor
Ambrosia, secret promise and a whisper to forget
Angels lovingly lost their way
Arching over the chapel atop a rock
Across the fallen stones a wall still reads
A simple line "Magni nominis umbra"
As I kept her sorrow
And forgot to pray
April 16, 2013
Bellagio on Lake Como
March 8, 2026
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2026

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