Longing For You

My heart collapsed

when I lost you.

My soul bled.

Hours and days

turn into years.

Space and time heal,

but dad the wound in my soul remains.

The wind whispers your name

in my sleep.

I search for you through my nightmares,

I search for you through sweet dreams.

When I see a glimpse of you,

I fall in your arms,

I weep,

I rejoice,

I embrace,

I hold,

I feel safe.

My pillow saturated with 

tears that I have shed.

My heart remains longing,

loving,

hoping one day I shall see you again. 

This week is four years since my dad passed away. I never got to say goodbye since he died suddenly. There is not one day that passes by that I don't think of him and miss him.  Meet us here  where we share our thoughts and our hearts http://dversepoets.com/

My Love

The pigeons ate seeds and bread crumbs
in Trafalgar square.
The trail we left behind while bronze lions
stood witness and guarded us,
as I sheltered you from the storms in our life.
Nelson's statue overlooking the square winked at me
as I watched him with admiration.
Life not a rehearsal  grandma said,
we took in the moment as we inhaled our breath.
I stood in a dark place,
unwilling to surrender.
Fearless when it came to me,
afraid when it came to you.
London poetic in spirit,
as we listened with our hearts,
wide and open.
I wanted to live for you, my child.
Move the earth and the clouds for you.
Heal you with love,
lift you with laughter.
I hope you remember
for it was long ago,
I carry it all in my heart.





Meet us here, http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Erase Me Not

Erase a memory.
Erase a generation.
Erase life.
Bury the memory,
bury lives.
Blood on your hands.
Stains on your soul.
The moon and stars weep
the moon and stars witnessed the massacre.
The moon and stars witnessed sorrow rise into survival,
despair into hope,
darkness into light.
Erase a memory.
Erase the past.
Erase me not.
The legacy in my veins,
my voice carried by the wind.
My seeds scattered over distant lands,
stories unfold,
stories retold,
stories never forgotten.


This is dedicated to my husband, his family and the Armenian people. Today is the remembrance day of the Armenian genocide. Recently I wrote a poem about my husband's grandfather and how he saved a train full of children during that time. He was a brave young boy that grew up and shared his stories with my husband. We retell from one generation to another, the sorrow and triumph.  1.5 million Armenians were murdered and the Ottoman Empire- Turkey today will not acknowledge  the murders of the Armenians. I am adding the link to the poem that I wrote about my husband's grandfather here, http://asunkissedlife-ayala.blogspot.com/2011/12/potato-in-his-pocket.html . Please meet us here, http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

I Will Always Remember You

After he watched his rabbi hanging,
his tongue severed .
After he watched a mass graveyard of bodies,
the stench filled the air,
the stench filled his senses.
How did he survive?
This black and white world,
where death came uninvited.
Sorrow the background of his childhood,
dreadful clouds over the ghetto.
He was only a child,
I wonder how he survived.
I wonder how he didn't lose his mind,
this pain throbbing in his heart.
When I think of him,
and hold him in my dreams,
I wonder of these many things.
His road filled with pain,
became a road of endurance,

a road of triumph.



I wrote this poem on April 5th 2011. I wrote it in dedication for my dad a survivor of the holocaust. Today is  Yom Hashoah which is the Holocaust Remembrance Day. I will always remember those who perished and those that survived. They will always be in my heart.

My Faith

His margins are clear,
while mine complicated.
I carry faith in the pocket of my heart,
somewhere between the chambers of my heart.
He's black and white,
while I am pink and grey.
My margins may be complicated
but I live my truth,
clear,
organic,
loud.



Meet us here http://dversepoets.com/ Where we share our thoughts and hearts.

Goodbye Spanish Fly

The ocean waters weep
with longing.
The wind whispers his name,
" goodbye Spanish Fly."
We read news reports in disbelief,
sadness fills us.
His plane caught in the crosswind,
his plane fell down from the sky,
and his spirit rose to heaven.
His humble beginnings,
as a Florida Keys fishing guide,
charming with infectious joy,
made the world fall in love with him.
He built memories and dreams,
living to the fullest,
from fun in the Bayou
to Sailfish fishing in Mexico.
Adventures to love,
adventure to treasure.
Goodbye Spanish Fly,
we will remember the stars in your eyes,
and the love in your heart.
Goodbye Spanish Fly,
you will be missed,
you will be forever loved.



Jose Wejebe was an angler that hosted, " Spanish Fly " a saltwater fishing show. My husband and I have been watching him since he started his career. My husband felt a kinship with him because he was true with his love of fishing. We were shocked and saddened to hear his plane crashed on Friday. Our thoughts and prayers go out to his family and to all the people that loved him. He was one of a kind and we will always remember him. Come and meet us at http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Jerusalem

http://dversepoets.com/

The ancient city knows my name.
Once this land was home.
I laid at her feet,
touched her,
listened to her heartbeat from the ground.
When I was small I hopscotched under her glorious beauty
while she winked at me.
That was long ago,
I return to heartbreak.
I skip through Jerusalem ,
her eyes dark and tender as they follow me.
I search through  her curves
to find his church,
nestled away, standing humble.
I enter the gates,
embraced by the sound of chanting,
rising through locked doors.
The doors open and I walk in
slowly feeling the spirit as the sunlight
enters through the vaulted dome.
My hearts skips a beat,
wishing my love was here,
to taste this moment.
The smell of incense
floating in the air,
awakens my senses,
as I sit in silence,
breathing it in for him,
breathing it in for me.



This is a reflection of my trip to Jerusalem. I went to Israel to bury my mom in 2009 and I took a day trip to Jerusalem and searched for the Armenian church which is in the old city and dates back to AD 420. My husband was a choir boy and he knows the present Patriarch, Archbishop Torkom Manoogian.  I felt a sense of wonder sitting there taking it all in. This is about love, the kind of love that crosses lines and faiths. I was born in Israel and raised Jewish and I married an Armenian which is orthodox Christian. So love conquers all in my faith. Meet us here,  http://dversepoets.com/  where we share our thoughts and our hearts.