Abie’s Poetry

Tears of Many Hues Jealousy turning to hate, They dumped their brother, Of the same flesh and blood, In a well; their own brother. Judged and condemned; No fair warning, no notice. Stripped of his favorite coat, Sold into slavery,

There’s heaven in mercy And hell in revenge. Let redress free, And forgive – Yourself as well. Vengeance is a boomerang; It’s murder twice-over. Pardon is joy – to both. Let go. Live. Forgive. © Abie Alexander Stepanavan, Armenia August

Cupid and Covid With masks, Vaccination, Distancing, Handwashing, Remote working, And quarantine, We beat Covid – Or so we thought. But the virus still won. Cupid didn’t stand a chance, Even at ten thousand miles … Abie Alexander Greenbelt, Maryland

There they stand, in wary lines, Clutching to their hearts, Or in tightly gripped bags, Bank statements, bills, Tax returns, certificates, Credit reports, checks, And even junk mail. But how much more we cling In our innards to biases, Racial

Vessel balanced atop, Child at the hip, The woman straggles Barefoot for miles each day. At the roadside tap, Their pots in queue, Children squabble, Waiting for the daily dribble. Or heaving at the rope, At the communal well, Feet

Shini-tai (死に体) When will you laugh again? Or smile that impish smile? We wrestled first with the miles And the ocean between us. Then, stepped in the pandemic, The gigantic, elephantine sumotori, Slamming our puny selves, And pushing and shoving

Under Nature’s Heel As a schoolkid, I scoffed When I read of saffron monks Sweeping the ground before them, Lest they step unawares on ants. Earthworms basking In the morning sun, On the warm cemented path That splits the cold,