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VOSDANIG ADOYAN** Vosdanig, alone with your stained canvas Studio walls receding, madness, full gallop Easels creak to honking horns, Whooping Cranes Half-drunk tubes, steep step fallen, hairy brush lagoons Cezanne enters, pitied peaches, pirouetted pears Matisse, prince of breasts, bottoms smiling almost colorless Picasso, rearrange burning eyes, needles, crimes, cradles Pablo so enriched with each female receptacle And you return to the canvas, exhausted Mother and sister whispering up ahead Horse’s hooves, Turkish death march, spring 1915 dance Silence, pause, silence, breath When even paint washes lines and traces In smooth jolt, rapid caress, ejaculate Canvas turns to overcoat, walks Towards the NY night, into spittoons, Museums, a loud curse, abandon Virgin canvas bought from the provinces Innocent, unassuming, bewildered Deflected, diasporic renegade Virgin canvas begs, forgets Virgin Mary and her son torn blast Mine own lake Van, a chapel in ointments Pigments, streaked scratches, eyes and hands Chapel for cattle, for target practice, erased Young Turkish army recruits, reclaimed heritage Vosdanig hangs himself to a pin on the wall To carry the weight of witness, to see saints Art and Armenia in endless stone serenades. Bedros Afeyan 7-4-2011 Pleasanton, CA ** aka Archile Gorky -- Dr. Bedros Afeyan is a theoretical physicist who works and lives in the Bay area with his wife, Marine. He writes in Armenian and in English and also paints and sculpts. Samples of his work can be found on the web by clicking on his personal web pages at: http://188.8.131.52/