Village Poets will celebrate the New Year with Armenian-American poet, Shahé Mankerian and Los Angeles poet, Jackie Chou, for an exciting presentation on Sunday, January 27 at 4:30 pm at Bolton Hall Museum in Tujunga, CA.
There will also be an open mic, so please bring your best poems to participate.
The Bolton Hall Museum, 10110 Commerce Ave, Tujunga, CA 91040. Bolton Hall is a Los Angeles Historical Landmark built in 1913. Our reading starts at 4:30 pm and goes till 6:30 pm
Shahé Mankerian is the principal of St. Gregory Hovsepian School in Pasadena, CA, and the director of mentorship at the International Armenian Literary Alliance (IALA). He previously served as co-director of the Los Angeles Writing Project and is a recipient of the Los Angeles Music Center’s BRAVO Award for innovation in arts education. Mankerian’s debut poetry collection, History of Forgetfulness, was published in 2021 by Fly on the Wall Press (UK). The collection was a semifinalist for the Khayrallah Prize and a finalist for the Bibby First Book Competition, the Crab Orchard Poetry Open Competition, the Julie Suk Award, the Quercus Review Press Poetry Book Award, and the White Pine Press Poetry Prize.
Three Poems by Shahé Mankerian
A sparrow visits our front lawn.
Her feet sink deep into the mud.
In rows, neighbors cultivate
perfect roses, African irises,
pergolas full of morning glories—
We’ve discolored their street
with harsh immigrant landscape:
puddles of mosquitos, dehydrated
apricot trees, and hollowed vases.
On his bicycle, a freckled face
newspaper boy tosses The Los
Angeles Times at hydrangeas
and chrysanthemums but skips
our oil-stained driveway. Before
going to the bakery, Father steps
on the porch and praises the passing
rain for washing his Chevrolet. Like
discovering pearl, the sparrow pulls
a gleaming worm from the steam
of our neglected soil and devours it.
Published in Taos Journal of Poetry | Issue 13 | November 2023.
Show & Tell
To Lucille Clifton
José lifted a rabbit from a corroded cage
and said, “This is Jesús. We found him
sleeping among the dead daffodils.”
Elizabeth asked us to cover our ears
“Because Beethoven was deaf,” she said
as “Ode to Joy” squeaked on her violin.
I clapped the loudest because on the first
day of school Liz braided my shoelaces
with hers. Mrs. Honzay poked my forearm
with a pen, “Settle down,” she whispered.
Sweaty Mika wore his father’s space suit.
Selma uttered from her wobbly desk,
“He even smells like an alien.” When I stood
in front of the blackboard, nauseous,
with nothing fancy to share, I raised
my trembling hands shoulder high.
“I was born with twelve fingers,” I said,
“and I have the scars to prove it.”
Published in Contemporary Verse 2 | Summer 2024 | Vol. 47 Issue No. 1
Khachaturian in Beirut
On my 6th birthday, Father clenched an imaginary
sword and marched around the living room
to the rapid beats of the Sabre Dance.
Outside, the Lebanese Civil War raged as tanks
smashed through abandoned cars. Inside,
Father jumped on the lopsided sofa
and shouted, “Son, this is Aram Khachaturian!
The greatest living composer from Armenia.”
Dead bodies bloated below our balcony,
but I fancied Khachaturian in a cape, a red
plume on the helmet, and a magical shield
that protected children from wayward bullets.
Father raised the volume of the turntable
right before the staccato of xylophones silenced
the screaming hostage in the nearby alley.
Published in TAB Journal, Volume 11, 2023
© 2024 Shahé Mankerian
Jackie Chou is a Pushcart and Best of the Net nominee whose poem "Formosa" was a finalist in the 2023 Stephen A DiBiase Poetry Prize. Her work has also appeared recently in The Ekphrastic Review, Panoply Zine, Synchronized Chaos, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, and Lee Herrick's Our California project. Her two collections of poetry, Finding My Heart in Love and Loss and the Sorceress, published by cyberwit in 2023, can be found on Amazon.
Three Poems by Jackie Chou
Losing You
I lose you
like a jacaranda tree shedding
its purple trumpet flowers
In losing you, I lose myself
parts of you
that became parts of me
the laughter
the gestures
the candlelight in the eyes
I lose you
though I have already lost you
a million times
in small daily fragments
a memory here
a photograph there
Soon my heart
will be bereft of you
like debris
and leaves
swept away by a breeze
I lose you
like pieces of a mosaic
falling one by one
until the last seashell
hits the floor
with a final clonk
First published by Synchronized Chaos, August 2024
At the End of the Day
Our day ends when it is time to part
My lids fall with the curtain of night
For darkened dreams, I depart
To the milky sky my black horse darts
Deep in slumber, I'm my own knight
Our day ends when it is time to part
To chase joy, a forgotten art
I must with my own demons fight
For darkened dreams, I depart
The surreal realm has made me smart
To defeat the darkness with my light
Our day ends when it is time to part
Like everything is free, I load my cart
Pushing its weight with all my might
For darkened dreams, I depart
In separate worlds, we're apart
My lone pursuits bring no plight
Our day ends when it is time to part
For darkened dreams, I depart
First published by Lothlorien Poetry Journal, April 2024
Formosa
Your breath
awakens me
to an isle of swaying palms
and loosed ankles.
You dance in the shadows
of crisp-winged butterflies,
auspicious like a yellow kitten,
prodding your ideologies into my head,
your brown hair tousled in the breeze,
ambition glowing in your pupils.
Your musical notes cross my stave,
your fingers bent at the right angles,
holding chopsticks with dexterity,
in night markets of neon boulevards,
where omelets are flipped and mice thrive,
your eyes locking with mine,
in our shared landscape.
Finalist in the Stephen A Dibiase Poetry Prize 2023
© 2024 Jackie Chou
Photo by Lois P. Jones
