Karine Ovsepian

Karine Ovsepian I sit alone with my silence, head to head, heart to heart, Though reasons vary today, but the labor of my words seems one and the same? I cannot stand beside it mute, for my thoughts are my hopes, And yes they are nameless, with roots that are shrewd, My hunger is for living lines, those, which I cannot pronounce out loud, My tongue speaks many languages; today’s is a hushed sweet dialogue, Dressed in the golden ray of beachside wind, As my stripped soul rests within its own arrogance, Today, silence seems my favorite fruit, my favorite mourn....

Playing hide and seek, Partially-spoken passion, Now a time-consuming, tired ache, How momentary chaos turns pale, As each breath gently curves Away, from phenomenal dappled vision. Could it be that life shivers briefly? Braking each and every magician, Exodus! Seems to be my prototype, Life shivers before my eyes, Emotions dress in exuberance, but Timeless happiness slumbers yet again. I walk into my infinite jungle, That is where I feel at home, Free to embrace my own silence, To roam, Chanting through the world, As my soul dances in its own composition, Without music...

I LOVE YOU By Karine Ovsepian My eyes, Wide shut, Like an anarchist, Pitching and hustling My imagination of you, Open wide and pressed, To the bosom Of stinging curls, Running down my shoulders, My face, Tracing each and every Nook… Sensuality, from 1 to 10 - open end, A rolling drop of water, An imagined precipitation, A pebble in the sand Which loves embraces with the wind, Almost a wandering sigh, Vast, With each days corroded sun, In the eye of ripe moon, Like a breathless voice, Distant, A crunchy echo, Hissing upon my breast, Kin, from a distance Caressing my skin, A velvet tongue… Your vapor, Painting a new feeling, Within linings of my heart, Ever so confused, What a timing… Leisure, Lets you love me, Only when you want, Admiring beneath it all, I, My simple silence, Swelling, With millions and millions Misconceiving thoughts, It’s painful, But I love you!...

It’s atrocious to crave like this, Every thought a disturbed murmur, Naked words like burning candles, So invisible, yet burning at both ends. Craving with such a wondrous pain, Nights unveil solitude of nothingness, Two expressions with exquisite form, Who’s to preach at such hours human norm. Qualified perfection could address this desire, Hot is heat, but this is fire, Burning each branched majestic thought, Side by side, two blazing leaflet souls....

Your chant, Go ahead deposit its suffering onto mine, Let them sway cheek to cheek Their graciousness is already broken. Let your love be my tortured aftertaste, Your desire my powdered desert, Then bake a cake with burnt sand pebbles, Patching the cracks with slippery tears. Let your lips joyfully kiss silence, As I walk sinking into the abyssal oblivion, With my tongue quizzed by faint triumphs, Raging with spear of love obstructing my soul....

PROSTITUE OF LOVE by Karine Ovsepian My head between my heart and essence I am a spinster, nothing more than a quintessence, I am the prostitute of love, The buoyancy of consolation of pain thereof, I am my own design, Who never procreated, not even one. I live in mans world, Where I exist and expire each day the way I am told, I crate my own mistakes, I sin and forgive with them no matter what it takes, Maybe that is why I am nothing but a spinster, Not a saint nor really magnificent....

Birth, A mysterious alias, Why would I want to extinguish your sigh, When brazen soars are eager to embrace you, oh my. You force thousands of chariots Across my sequenced sky, Where love is best profane, A different rush within each dripping stain. I live with million follies, Which makes the sin my friend, Knowing, that living as a vagabond requires no pretense, I am domesticated animal - hence!...

With the wisdom?s truthful grace. Prolonged oppression must exalt, Not to become chaotic revolt, From time to time one must bite the tongue, Before it bites a piece of old and young. Silenced vindications arise with the day, Painted in our own colors of dismay, As with each new brush stroke, We dress them with our unique smoke. Blueness in the sky, glimmer of the sun, At times with sweet words could be done, Yet double-shaded faces of missing hearts, Become nothing more but whispering of arts....

Eyes? so unprompted, so carelessly vagabond, Could they be the worst imprisonment of a heart? Could they be the wondrous glory of each and every start? Eyes? so ridiculously forged with fiercest thoughts, Dreadfully proud of miseries captivated within a breeze, Their random dance seems a weaponless tease. Eyes? embattled obnoxiousness of past hopes and dreams, Beyond reported facts and diffused believes, Embedded freckle of inseparable clothed nightly thieves....

Unrefined columns of human stance, Tragedy & drama within a glace, Enough attempted spice and glamour, They all dress in personal rare grammar. Composition of each tilted soul, Somehow tends to make another whole, Like the meaning of each prediction made, Becomes their daily flimsy masquerade. A piece of finale, a piece of remorse, Imitation becomes their driving force, Some yielding multiple divisions of love, Yet some with a silent aloofness thereof....

Indifferent to reasons, that are misled hallow spaces, Consciously masquerading life, Wrapped in clean linen stories, Put away, Like two-hearted swans, Single body of expressions, Distressed with realms of control and pleasure… Indifferent to weakness, A culpable mind thirsts alone, Mixed thoughts sprinkled everywhere, Unevenly, preserved with muteness of life, Thinking to themselves, Disputing irrelevance of worth, An insignia of incomplete existence, Prey to avarice… Indifferent to pandemonium, All reasons burn at both ends, Derelict moon dressed by each rising sun, Kisses plague of each day, It slivers skin to thin layers of ice, Depraved, Living insipid life, Adoring antiquity of flesh and bone…...

I am not I, But why? Cool face, black hair, An icicle of moon, Holds me up above the water As day passes by passions canal, All nights become personal. I am the ship out on the sea, With a drunken heart, My lips red as dried out roses, Calling absent fate, All so subtle, so intimate. I raise my cup in an empty room, In this light my heart seems transparent, No sirens, no traffic lights, Not even you, just I, Transparent as gauze....

Rain, making my soul thunder, With solemn darkness of insanity, It crises with composite hunger, Against passion of naked sanity. It stands with despicable foes, Corrupted by the bosom of remorse, With each effectual drop, It makes hearts flip and flop. Its exorbitant desires are a maze, Within each drop a hidden gaze, With it?s mortal obedient sense, It drills deep into soul?s incense. It dresses in divine compassion, With power of obsolete fashion, It caresses sinful and stony hearts, Creating blind pieces of fine arts....

You are my daily mastering lie, The throne to my hearts thunderous sigh, The mind with soar transported fear, Watchful fire burning within oceans bed, which I can hear! You are the tune of my newest song, The words embraced within transparent lust of wrongs, The hand that rocks my worldwide cradle, My dream, my thorn, and melodious battle. You are the blessing of my daily thoughts, The invisible mortal, my souls suspicious want, The chain over my guilty façade, which I eagerly desire, Muted, infant lips which I would silence with passionate fire....

Within numberless folds, A short silence summons me, As joy and fear rebounds my heart, With clusters of jocund music and airy crowd. Within such rebellious rout, I swarm within the air of arched pavement, As the thick airborne silence becomes the daily dew, I can’t help but wonder if your presence will charm me anew. Within the dimensions of hollow salt, I taste your existence summoning my unstructured heart, As I level within spaced arches of expatiated and conferred self, Your immenseness as a frequent visitor becomes the setting sun....