Mind Terrible

Monochrome

2008-12-04T00:39:00.001+02:00

I watch the swift movements of the Filipina who is skillfully applying my favorite color to my fingernails, my mind hopping from one thought to another when it pauses all of a sudden upon hearing another customer utter “...dark black...”.

I always thought “light black” is gray.

But then I also thought it's either black or white...

I'm not sure if it's always been that way, but it seems to me in life it's never either black or white now because there are shades to these entities nowadays.

Light white, light black, dark white, dark black; not just plain black, or plain white anymore. As nothing is just right and nothing is just wrong; that seems to be the standards by which people live these days.

And you wonder...maybe gray is more absolute than black and white now...

Copyright © 2008 Daisy Tchiftjian

Voices

2008-09-10T23:15:00.006+02:00

Part I

After a prolonged unconsciousness
I look around with bloodshot eyes
Still shivering on the ground where I lie
As every inch of my body comes back to life...
Where am I? Where am I?

As the scheming day bows at its end
I lay in bed weary and spent
I think to myself but it's others' voices I hear
And my small gasps when I try to discover...
Who am I? Who am I?

I still find myself where I never thought I'd be,
In my mind, in my soul and physically
As the days, months and years pass by me
I look for myslef and I look for you...
Where is home? Where is home?

Copyright © 2008 Daisy Tchiftjian

2008-08-27T22:47:00.003+02:00

A rule of thumb of respect: it cannot be achieved without acknowledging someone for who and what they are.

Copyright © 2008 Daisy Tchiftjian

2008-07-16T19:46:00.003+02:00

When you lie you'll become the slave of your deceit
And if you get caught I'll make you the slave of your guilt...

Copyright © 2008 Daisy Tchiftjian

2008-07-16T19:42:00.004+02:00

Memories are the sensations of what you can no loger have and often times they are the echos of what you wish to permanently forget.

Copyright © 2008 Daisy Tchiftjian

In The Land of Opportunities

2008-06-27T23:38:00.005+02:00

Lost in strange darkness and spent
I plunge my feet in and out of the sand
As my instincts drag me here and there
Alone, with only my homeland's music in my head.

I'm stranded in the desert
Far from the blanket of fake modernity,
Seeking other alien footrprints like mine
To find some shred of warm familiarity.

Footprints erased into oblivion
By the wind that carries my tune
Away and back like flickering fireflies
Under these starless moonlit skies.

The melody that now echoes in the air
Pulls me further into the blackness
Till I find myself moving to the rhythm of foreigness
In a round dance with other familiar srangers.

We find home again through this sensually vulgar beat,
For a few moments we feel relieved and complete
As we whirl around the fire of longing our souls create
Like pagans paying homage to Brigit.

And I wonder, as dawn creeps above the dunes,
If I'll ever reclaim my sense of belonging
In this land where we buy success
With the crushing price of loneliness.

Copyright © 2008 Daisy Tchiftjian

"The Child Is The Father of Man"

2008-03-13T03:53:00.002+02:00

1:30 AM, and I’m trying to sleep, but my eyes are open and my thoughts restless. No, it’s not the late night coffee that’s finally kicked in, but the normal reactions to my preparations for moving to U.A.E…the waiting, the stress, the rush, the anticipation, the goodbyes, the new life, the sadness, the happiness…

Happiness…

That was the last station where my mind waited for the bus to pick it up and take it for a journey to explore that certain word people live and die for…

Happiness.

That’s what I was thinking about as I lay in the bed looking around my barely visible room where everything appeared grainy to my eyes, like a grayscale picture with low resolution.

I had always thought that happiness is shallow, a wonderful euphoria that teaches nothing.

I was wondering when was the last time I felt genuinely happy – it wasn’t too long ago – and that in turn made me try to remember the first time I ever felt it. It didn’t take me long to start to think of my nephew.

Almost everyone familiar with my life’s circumstances knows that I travel to UAE every chance I get to visit my loved ones. And I spend all my free time there with my nephew ever since he was born in 2003.

It never takes much time to gain the friendship of my nephew. Well, that’s not true. It takes no time at all, at least not with me (and I’m sure with some others as well, despite the lonely childhood he’s having). The last time I went there in summer 2007, I stayed for only ten days. One of those days, he got mad at me for something I didn’t do for him. But soon I won him over again and that night – a few hours past his bedtime - he came to “my” room where I was using my laptop. He lay down beside me on the sofa-bed, and started to ask questions about this and that as usual, until he got sleepy. At last, he said:

“Hokkou (Auntie), I’m not upset with you anymore”

I smiled and kissed him on his cheek.

And he continued with his sleepy little voice, “You know, I’m really happy that you’re here…”

And my smile – and heart – broke into million little pieces.

I hugged him and let him fall asleep with his head on my lap, stroking his hair calmly; but there was nothing calm about the tears that were crawling down my face, or the curses I was directing to myself, my fate, my family and God…

What and how did a four year old know about happiness? How could he relate that word to the way he was feeling - not in a certain instant, but during a period of time?! I was a happy child myself, but I don’t remember using that word so early…or even knowing that I actually felt that way.

I see children laugh…I haven’t seen him laugh as much as others do…but he knew when he was happy…he’s able to understand and live words beyond their physical sense.

And he taught me that happiness can be as deep and profound as misery. In the end, they’re both really about what you have, and what you don’t.

January 15

2008-01-19T22:08:00.001+02:00

It was another grey winter afternoon, full of the rush of the second day of the week. So many tasks were waiting for me at work; once I arrived and immediately took to them I never looked up to see the time until-

BOOM

It was all in a matter of seconds that I leapt from my place and ran – along with other colleagues who were present – toward the opposite wall from where the deafening and heart-stopping sound of the explosion came and the first thing that occurred to my strangely still rational mind was: This was here…oh no… and I began to pray that the people I knew would tread that road were safe and immediately took my mobile to call them.

But the lines were dead.

My hands were shaking. Everyone was on their feet looking at each other with terror on their teary faces. Soon enough we heard the sirens of ambulances and fire trucks approaching.

The bomb had exploded on the corner of the lane that leads to a highway – just a block away from where I work.

It’s not an unusual event anymore, it’s been happening since 2005. But of course, none of us civillians would believe that we can be on site when it happens next – until it does.

A friend asked me what it was like to hear the bomb go off so near, and how I felt during the ordeal. I told him I was horrified but the feeling faded after a few minutes, and dramatically seconds after it happened, during which my mind calculated that I’m safe and alive and okay. Actually, I was much more terrified – and for a longer time – of other things in life, like during a simple and "fun" rollercoaster ride I took about four years ago. Back then I even thought that I was living my last moments and it didn’t make me feel safer that I had company, or that there were other people on the ride also.

So all that fear and shock and fuss – it’s all pointless drama, because it was over in a second. At least for those who were lucky like us.

It's the realization that I was only a few meters away, or one and a half hours away from death that is horrifying on a more profound level. It makes me stop, relive the moment, and reflect on my life. I won’t be living forever, but this wasn’t the first time my life was spared…And I am yet to find out why…

"Bourdj-Hammoudtsi"

2008-01-13T14:50:00.000+02:00

“RIDICULE, n. Words designed to show that the person of whom they are uttered is devoid of the dignity of character distinguishing him who utters them.”

The Devil’s Dictionary, Ambrose Bierce

In order to comprehend the meaning of "Bourdj Hammoudtsi", one has to know that Bourdj Hammoud (in Armenian dialect), is a town in Beirut suburbs named Bourj Hammoud in Arabic. A swamp formerly, it was given to Armenians who arrived to Lebanon en route the desert of Der Zor in Syria via the death marches forced upon them by the Ottoman Empire. Over the years, the survivors built homes, shops, factories, schools and churches, thus Bourj Hammoud became the stronghold of the Armenian community in Lebanon, growing into a municipality in its own right.

I should mention for those who are not Armenian, especially for those who do not live in Lebanon, that despite its advancements in organizing the road ways - in a country that mostly treads unorganized roads, despite the way it becomes more and more independent when it comes to business and marketing, and the way it renovates its constructions and builds new and modern ones, Bourj Hammoud is still considered a rather poor town, and Armenian families keep moving out to fancier areas. Now Armenian families reside in other places as well.

So “Bourdj-Hammoudtsi” is an Armenian term that describes someone who is from Bourj Hammoud, such as myself. But don’t be fooled by the objective nature of the word, for it’s not pronounced with innocent intent by those who live outside of the area. If Ambrose Bierce* was another uninventive ignorant Armenian snob living outside of Bourj Hammoud, his Devil’s Dictionary would not be an ingenious constructive criticism of his people, but a childish ridicule of others where he would define the term as such:

Bourdj-Hammoudtsi: A low-class vulgar of ill manners and cheap expressions decorated with curses.

Pause.

Double take.

Disbelief.

Outrage.

Offense.

Now THOSE terms are how I feel and react everytime I witness firsthand, sometimes by my own friends, this way of relating to my hometown and its inhabitants, but then I overcome my shock when I realize how ignorant they are of their own vulgar ill-manners which are sugarcoated with what they believe to be sophistication. And to make it worse, they are oblivious of the fact that there are “Bourdj-Hammoudtsi”s everywhere. But of course… When there’s a thorn in your eye, the easiest thing to do is to shut your eye.

My name is Daisy, I am everything that I am, and I’m from Bourj Hammoud, a name people use to describe the worst things in others. And to all those people I will refrain from saying something that would rhyme with and sound like “got to yell”, not only because I don’t have it in me to say such things, but also because here I wish to make it a point not to live down to their expectations.

* Ambrose Bierce is a 19^th century American satirist known for his masterpiece “The Devil’s Dictionary”.

On The Horizon

2007-12-20T12:03:00.000+02:00

See on the far away horizon
A silhouette figure standing alone
With her back turned to the world,
Someone whose trust has been shattered
To a thousand unmendable pieces,
But something floats in the air
Right beside her-
Her hand, and it’s still reaching out

With love
To give
To save…

A Moment

2007-12-19T15:20:00.000+02:00

A time in eternity
That was taken away from me,
A memory
I have no recollection of,
A pain
I find myself unable to feel
Because of a moment
I did not live.

A void in my life,
A dent in the space of time,
A black hole in my universe
Pulls in my whole existence

A link that was mutilated
From the chain of my path,
Never to reconnect,
Never to be replaced;
And the next series goes on
Like a river changing its course
When a barrier forms in its way.

A scene that was severed
From the director’s film,
An act gone awry
But not refined,
And a sequence follows
Not related to the last,
Except for an instant
Of a scratched black strip in between.

A moment of nothingness,
A moment of not being
Should have been a blessing
But became an eternal hunt for a memory.

So many moments in my years
That I wish they hadn’t been,
So many things in my life
I wish I had not seen.
Even more moments
That I strive to forever forget,
Many moments but one:
The one I didn’t live at all;
Of all the griefs I’ve suffered,
I long to feel that which I didn’t feel at all.

Two Spirits...

2007-09-30T22:38:00.000+02:00

Two young spirits, wandering in a forest of tall trees and honey mist chance upon each other by fate. Having newly parted the physical world, they sit together for a chat, seeking encouragement and advice. They no longer speak of life’s possessions of love, money, politics and happiness, but of the Ultimate subject: Life itself.

The younger one asked, “Which concept do you believe in, Destiny or Free Will?”

After pondering for a while, the older one answered, “I think Free Will is an illusion.”

“I’m so relieved you think so, because I think so too” said the first, oblivious of the realization that every dying and every dead will think so in the end. “If everything is preplanned, then no matter how much you willed to do something, and no matter what you chose to do, it already was written that you will do it.”

“I agree. But what if it’s both of these concepts together? Perhaps it was already decided how you will die, or when, but up until that point, you were free to do what you want, and one way or another you were eventually going to die the same way or time,” said the second.

“Still, if we consider this example where I will to hit you, and I hit you,” refuted the young one, “isn’t that Free Will?”

“Yes, that would be your Free Will, but also my Destiny, because I didn’t choose to be hit!” answered the other.

“Alright, what about suicide?” said the first soul. “If it was fated that you commit suicide, and you commit suicide out of your own choice, how can you still think it was your own free will? It’s either Destiny or Free Will.”

“Let’s consider chess,” replied the older spirit. “Let’s suppose Destiny to be the chessboard, and the chess pieces to be our lives. You’re moving the pieces out of free will, but you are still in the domain of the board, the destiny.”

“Yes, but if I’m the King and fall on purpose because I’m sick of the game, isn’t that Free Will?”

“Yes, but you still belong to the chessboard…”

Enigmas To Resolve

2007-09-22T22:58:00.000+02:00

Part I

Tribute to a little one I saw on TV and all those suffering from the same condition

See that boy about four years of age,
Wholeheartedly laughing with his parents,
Running around in the living room,
So happy and careless,
I wonder if he knows his fate;
Born with a terminal illness,
He’s his parents only joy – and ache.

It’s a story we hear everyday,
It stings like a mosquito bite
Then in a minute, fades away;
But it’s not like that when one sees it for real,
The way father and mother hold him steady
While his whole body heaves,
Coughing and breathing his heart out
As tears stream down his little face
To bare the pain of suffering in his eyes…
Oh the sight of that pain that haunts me to this day
Dear Lord, how can I feel happy again?!

2007-07-02T08:32:00.000+02:00

If every color has to signify something, the world will have to go transparent.

Copyright © 2007 Daisy Tchiftjian

Ode to a Familiar Unknown

2007-06-21T09:15:00.000+02:00

‘Twas on a sunny afternoon,
On my way back home,
That my eyes chance upon
A familiar profile
Standing on the sidewalk,
Talking with gestures that I know
So well…

The blood in my veins
Rush to my heart that leaps
In an exhilarating rhythm,
Pounding like it does
When I’m waking up
From those dreams
Where I’m falling from the skies…

Alas…my heartbeat subsides
As I come to realize
That he is not you,
And my longing remains
But I am not disappointed,
For now I miss you
A moment less than eternity…

In the Name of Patriotism v2.0

2007-06-04T16:22:00.000+02:00

In referrance to "In The Name of 'Justice and Patriotism'"(http://femmeterrible.blogspot.com)

It’s been more than two weeks since the development of violence in Tripoli, north of Lebanon. And as if its escalation wasn’t enough for a country barely emerged from a devastating war last summer, more violence has expanded throughout the south as well.

For the moment, I don’t wish to go through the details of how, why and when, and who is to blame. Still, my heart goes out to every single falling soldier in the fields…

…And to their loved ones.
…To the ones who cry their hearts and souls out.
…To the woman who lost consciousness during the funeral.
…To the wives and children who have to carry on with the pain, being at loss themselves…
…And I watch, in the news, as a colonel or a commander-in-chief presents a medal of honor to the family of the slain, and I think to myself: That medal won’t bring him back; perhaps that was his dream - to die in the battlefield in the name of patriotism, but looking at that medal, to the heroism it represents, I wonder what’s more dear to his mother: her son’s life itself or the heroic memory he left behind?

Catharsis

2007-05-25T19:39:00.000+02:00

Sealed memories rising up to shatter
The lid that nailed them in the coffin of my unconscious,
Shaking me with their shrieks,
Piercing me from within,
They come to life
To force their way
Back to my consciousness,
Torturing my soul again…

And I shiver
And I writhe,
Wet fumes of emotions perspire -
Gasping for air
While fever takes over my being;
I lose control
As venom pierces out of me,
Tearing itself out of my flesh.

“Leave me!” screams my soul,
“You belonged to the past,
There’s no place for you now or ever after”
“Make room for life!” my heart bellows;
“I’m shrinking into extinction
I need resuscitation,
Not from poison, but from a savior.”

Now the last drop of toxin withdraws
Like the demons did out of the leper,
And the fever in me subsides;
I feel revival breathing inside me
As warm white fire sets my soul alight
And all the poisons of the past,
And all that I’ve felt that I shouldn’t have
Absolve into an oblivion I do not see…

When The Ground Beneath You Shakes...

2007-05-23T22:28:00.001+02:00

When you feel hopelessly helpless,
When the ground beneath your feet shakes,

Close your eyes, grit your teeth,
Brace your legs and clench your fists…
Face the force
And let the waves pass through you

Don’t fight
Nor cave in -
Stand still -
Just hold on to yourself,
Face every emotion -
Stand still -
Give in to yourself,
Let everything pierce through your soul

‘Cause when they leave it
Your holes will seal
Never to tear again

For when you open your eyes
And look around at all that was destroyed
While the ground beneath your feet shook,
You will see yourself -
The one who endured it all,
The one whom nothing could destroy -

The Invincible.

Fact

2007-04-15T13:26:00.000+02:00

When browsing through articles of a magazine a few days ago, I came upon a caption that read:

"Did you know that there are 206 bones in the adult human body and there are 300 in children (as they grow, some of the bones fuse together)."

I wonder if we could have known that if children didn't die so young...

A Moment of Truth

2007-04-15T11:51:00.000+02:00

"Here comes the moment of truth" we often hear people say...and not surprisingly, the sentence usually springs from the diplomatic mouths of politicians.
What a hypocritical thing to say, and upon hearing it people get carried away with the suspense it creates, instead of seeing the mockery and disrespect of intelligence it veils.
"Here comes the moment of truth". As if Truth should have a rendezvous in the first place.
It seems to me it's not the moment of truth that comes, but WE go to it when we occasionally take vacation from lies...only when it's in our best interest in ourselves and our selfishness to do so.

Copyright 2007 © Daisy Chiftjian

Carry On

2007-04-11T21:13:00.000+02:00

By Ara DerMosessian
Dedicated to someone who never fails to make me smile...

In a chamber of velvet she lay
In her eternal slumber she prays
Her sweet face pale as snow
For my fading soul she prays

At the boundary of our two worlds
my spirit seeks salvation
Death! Come for me swift and sudden
Save me from eternal damnation

As hope had died, so died my heart
Never to feel again, never to love again
Left alone to face the pain of deprivation
Never to be with her again...

She spoke to me one last time
Go! She said. Find the will to carry on!
For in life unseperated were we
And in death so we shall be

As I said my last farewell
My soul bled sweet tears
For in her life she gave me hope
And in her death I found life

Happiness Stolen

2007-04-07T20:47:00.000+02:00

by Ara DerMosessian

Looking in the mirror today
I saw myself an old man
How the years had changed me
My face, my hair, my eyes
The hollowness of the years
Reflected right through them
Had they been so empty
So devoid of the divine spark
That shines in the eyes of a bride
On her wedding night
Had they been so fruitless
That now here I was
With nothing but solitude for company
Had they been so short
They couldn't accommodate for
Nothing but my pursuit of
Pleasure, riches, satisfaction...

Flashback through timeless memories
Searching for happiness lost
Eyes wide open, senses keen
Yet everywhere I searched
People from my past kept screaming,
shouting at me, kicking at me.
For those were the forgotten ones,
The step stones in my path so full of peril…
Yet somehow along the road,
Were left behind and forgotten…

And then I came across her
The obsession of my dreams,
The reason for my misery
The one person who unbeknownst to her
Sent me on a perilous journey
and never expecting my return
Drowned herself in the sea
And there her ghost still lies
Swimming in the cold waters
Taunting my ravaged soul
To follow her in eternity

My whole existence screamed for her
Yet I never let love dwell in my heart
For as sad as life may be
It sure was sadder to love her
Yet another’s pride and joy,
Another’s beacon of hope
Another’s lover she may be…

And now as I stand at the shore
The twilight reflects in the sea
Reminding me of her
And a love that never can be
I look back at my life
Then back at the sea
Wait for me my love
For soon we shall meet again
Embraced in an eternal caress
You, me and the dark depths of the sea...

Love is...

2007-04-02T10:37:00.000+02:00

"Love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking together in the same direction."
—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

...That's Harmony, not love. Love is gazing each other if not for, then despite the differences.

Copyright © 2007 Daisy Chiftjian

Campaign for War Children

2007-03-17T02:06:00.000+02:00

I encountered this link while browsing for non-mainstream artists...
It contains a touching clip about war children being recruited for military operations at very young ages...
http://warchild.mybrilliantbeast.com/

White Cabinet

2007-02-27T01:08:00.000+02:00

The inside of my white cabinet
Embodies everything that I am;
It’s a mess that’s locked away
Like the secrets in my brain.

Books and notebooks
Are not the only content,
Letters, notes and artworks,
Gifts, cards and pictures,
My past, my present,
And maybe even future,
Are all part of the scenery
Like the memories in my mind,
The thoughts that dwell inside
And feelings I try to hide.

Like the enigma that’s my being
And which my mind keeps concealed,
The inside of my cabinet
Is a sight not to be seen.

Copyright © 2007 Daisy Tchiftjian

In The Background

2007-02-23T21:29:00.000+02:00

Sailing through my family photographs
Used to be my favorite childhood hobby;
To behold savored instances from the past,
Whether they did or didn’t include me.

There’s one picture that I liked most,
Of my then five-year-old brother,
Looking angelic and so enviably pretty
That I’d boast to my friends that it was me!

In that photo, my mother sits in the background;
Her part is darker but her ardently glowing grin -
Which she directs at her smiling little son -
Is simply far too bright to be left unseen.

Twenty-eight years after that picture
I now happen to look at another.
There’s my nephew who was then one year old,
And behind him laughing, his toy I hold.

My mother’s still grinning in the background,
Her gaze, this time, directed at her grandson.
Her defiant grin - still bright, still lively, still wide -
Always keeps setting my own spirit wild.

Eternity steals moments with these shots, but I -
I wish to snatch Infinity from the grip of Time
For I fear, one day, to look at a picture of my Child
And not see my mother’s defiant grin in the background…

Copyright © 2007 Daisy Tchiftjian

A Feeling

2007-02-21T10:08:00.000+02:00

A feeling surrounds my awakening
this morning, like a sea
all around the island of my bed.

A feeling of irretrievable loss
like an emptied bottle of wine,
a letter dropped into the mailbox,
like a present
once it is opened and becomes a thing,
like a woman
once she’s sure she’s loved.

A feeling
more strange than sad,
debilitating
rather than depressing
like a black hole inside
swallowing all that mattered
and light.

The feeling that this morning
someone as near
as a sister-beloved-friend and as remote
as any stranger
someone
dreaming of me
died.

Leonardo Alishan (1951-2005)

Born in Tehran to Armenian parents, Alishan moved to the US in the early '70's for graduate studies, after which he taught Persian literature and comparative literature in the University of Utah. He has two published poetry collections: "Dancing Barefoot on Broken Glass" and "Through a Dewdrop". He died in a tragic fire incident at his home in Utah, on January 9, 2005.

2007-02-20T19:09:00.000+02:00

A poem from the Inside Cover of "Splendor Solis"

2007-02-08T23:34:00.000+02:00

I'll show you the door when you decide to hold on to all that you've lost.
You see, all this is nothing when she comes and tears you apart.
Of course, all this is nothing if you hold the key to her heart.
I told you I am your saviour and your truth.
When you get down on the floor,
I will steal the soul from you if there is no truth.
Let's end this lie tonight.

When the thirteenth apostle is knocking at my door,
A new sun is rising in the east.
Did I tell you that?
It's true.
So sing thorughout the streets and sing throughout the night.
Go and tell the people my soul is aflight.
Although you might save me from all these emotions that are filling my mind,
All of your healers are still hurting my kind.
I will watch what the rain blows in,
And I will continue to tell people that a climb to the holy land
Is a slide to the devil's hand.

Something is going to change these times and I'll watch them fade away.
So if they want to keep me hung on their crosses
They'll have to find some bigger nails.
I will continue to walk these streets like a doubting Thomas
And I'll swear at saints when they pass me by.
Nothing is pure when everything is tainted.
Where am I going to go when I die?
So you see, I'll try to let you go and I'll try very hard to forget.
I don't think my thought will subside,
I guess I'm just losing my mind.
I'm walking alone, I'm standing in the sun.
I'm thinking about my life and how it's barely just begun.
I want to run.

- The Tea Party

2007-02-01T22:09:00.000+02:00

Unrequieted....

2007-02-01T21:50:00.000+02:00

I wonder if it’s ever possible that one day the only issues in the world would center around health only …and not power. Not politics. Not finance. Not wealth nor poverty. Not racism. Not religion. Not wars and genocides. Not inequality. Perhaps even not any other kind of crimes….

I wonder if there can exist a world where the word “oppression”, its synonyms, and every related word to it will cease to exist in the minds of the living generations, become incomprehensible, unnecessary and ancient.

Perhaps one day cultural diversities and social differences would be celebrated and not perceived as a threat to one’s own.

Perhaps one day the big fish will leave the small fish alone. Perhaps it will help them become as big themselves, or simply make itself as humble instead of becoming more gluttonous.

I wonder if it’s possible that humans will ever be altruistic … and not selfish.

I wonder if life can exist without the need to struggle for Survival…but with the gusto to Live.

Then I wonder if it’s really altruistic – and not selfish - to harbor these illusions in my mind.

Copyright © 2007 Daisy Tchiftjian

2007-01-16T12:48:00.000+02:00

* * * * - By Ara D.S. ft. Daisy Ch.

2007-01-11T21:20:00.000+02:00

Racing for the Future one step at a time
Like a clockwork train set upon the line...

From dawn of life to light's demise
We work the land, we seek our prize .
With promise of the Future and lessons of the past
We pave our way to rest at last.

Feelings of joy, feelings of sorrow,
Feelings of ecstacy, feelings of pain
And feelings of everything in between
Fill the emptiness within the soul...

Men have always come to pass
So will the Future become the past
When the fall of the sandwatch's grains
Marks the seconds collapsed.

The sweet smell of the damp ground
Signs the proof of life's presence
While the wind blows through the sand
Searching for the meaning of existence.

And As winter turns to spring,
We shall learn to live at last,
With the vigor of our offspring
And memories of the past...

Building the Future one step at a time
Like a clockwork train set upon the line

Difference

2006-12-14T02:39:00.000+02:00

Fable

2006-12-02T17:48:00.000+02:00

In the Land where windfalls of wonders hap,
There a wild Lion and a tamed Deer met;
And so an unforeseen marvel befell
When Lion and Deer for each other fell.

As time moved along their lives
Their love started to shake with rage,
For Lion and Deer found themselves
'Rousing in each other outrage.

The causes were as clear as fresh air:
Their differences were too much to bear.
He was invincible, a mountain dire,
She was fragile as a flickering fire.

Her endurance worn out, the deer ran away,
She lived on her own, fighting her dismay.
But life taught her to become unwavering,
Thus she overcame her tears and suffering.

One fine day, Lion and Deer met again by fate,
And the Lion saw how gracefully she'd changed,
While the Deer, reborn, she looked on him anew,
And finally realized the "Lion" was a deer too...

Copyright © 2003 Daisy Tchiftjian
Written in summer 2003

Quote

2006-11-19T13:22:00.000+02:00

...

2006-11-14T09:24:00.000+02:00

I want to go where no human has gone,
To touch down where no one has stepped on;
Not for grandiose, triumph and mighty ambitions,
But to see what a place is like that’s not corrupted by humans.

Copyright © 2006 Daisy Tchiftjian

The Dance

2006-11-14T01:16:00.000+02:00

“This Big Hush” plays in my ears
Its bewitching melody making me reach into my depths;
Slowly I start to become undone
As I decompose to identify every emotion …

Closing my eyes, I trace the fence around my soul…
Pain is tugging at my mind fighting for its survival,
Trying to resurface from its evasion,
As it struggles to embrace my being…

Holding a burning torch,
It takes my hand and escorts me
To where the agitated fervors
Waited for the revival of their destiny…

Anger was the first to reach out,
Then Longing was soon to follow up;
Injury didn’t stay behind
Neither did Sadness nor Grief…

My back heavy with these burdens, Pain pulled me back to itself;
It twirled me around in a swirling dance
Till I felt weightlessness in the heaviness
And in the light I saw the darkness…

Copyright © 2006 Daisy Tchiftjian

Quote:

2006-11-08T20:12:00.000+02:00

You vs Me

2006-11-05T15:00:00.000+02:00

To be or not to be –
That is not the question
When it comes to my confusion
And feelings of anxiety.

Considerate of others’ sensitivities,
I am being suffocated
Silently accepting everyone
And everything…

No matter what

Just to give
Just to love
Just to please
Just to relieve

But my heart shrinks
And my soul swells
I feel it tearing to shreds
Bleeding the color of torment…

How can I be unselfish
Without hurting myself?
How can I be selfish
And not hurt anyone else?

Yet at the end of the day
When it really comes down to it
No one can really hurt you
More than you can hurt yourself.

And I tell you

… Do unto yourself
As you would have others do unto you;
…Love yourself
As your neighbour loves you.

Copyright © 2006 Daisy Tchiftjian

To My Sunshine

2006-10-25T17:10:00.000+02:00

Cruising inside my sentiments of longings
I leaf through the photos of the recent past,
And feelings of yearning take over me,
And the need to trade the pictures with reality…

What I wouldn’t give to recapture the moment

When his baby hand grabbed hold of my finger,

To see his wide smile light up his face and my heart

While he slept and dreamt as if of angels…

What I wouldn’t give to have been there
During the years I’ve missed and will miss again,
To watch him grow, and live in wonder
As he discovers life and I discover him...

>>Daisy Tchiftjian

To my Nephew...

The Answer

2006-10-03T13:58:00.000+02:00

A question that’s asked to me
By everyone – one time or another –
A question of philosophy, a question of wonder;
A question to which I never knew the answer.

I’m asked: “What is it that you want from this life?”
Only now do I realize I want nothing more than itself:
With its past, the present, and the future,
The stars, the sky, the beings and nature.

But above all there’s one thing I want from the universe:
And that’s for my existence to make a difference.

>>Copyright © 2006 Daisy Tchiftjian