William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Laughter’

Someone Must

Being complacent is one thing. Being happy is another. Someone must be happy, lest we all forget. Someone must be joyful, someone must laugh. Yes, someone must, someone must. Because not being happy is a crime as great as any war. Or why bring more children into the world? . [ 1388 ]

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Is This What It Is?

What miracle will this body reveal today? What lesson? What truth? I’m ready. I’m listening. This breath is the proof. There’s a path in the canyon. It winds through the mist. Is it this? Waterfalls and ravens. Stones and downed trees. Is it that? Or is it the place where my ancestors once walked? Is it their well and their garden? Is it their dark crusty bread? The song of […]

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Newborn

I raked some leaves that didn’t need raking, Just to feel my muscles and lungs. I walked some ground that didn’t need walking, To see how the sky would respond. I watched some birds that didn’t need watching, I ate an orange that didn’t need eating, I thought a thought that didn’t need thinking, And the thought thought the same about me. Then I sat, then I stood, then I […]

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The Interview

Illuminated by my faithful dragonfly lamp, a tiny insect just flew by, then disappeared into the dark regions of the desk behind the computer screen. Each of us, engaged in the doings of our lives. There are days I remember, from morning to night, such seemingly forgettable, unimportant things. I think this will be one of them. For how can I be sure that this will not be the last […]

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Loose Ends

When I was born, I was given a genocide. I was also given a dear dead uncle who had killed, and been killed, in war. I was given simplicity, poverty, hunger, and joy. I was given anger and disappointment. I was given pride and competition. I was given physical and psychological pain. I was given fear. I was given honesty. I was given laughter. I was given play. I grew […]

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Drought

Grass fires. Forest fires. Climate change. Drought. A neighbor decides he does not like his wise old fir. He cuts it down. Grinds the stump. Pours concrete. Complains about his electricity bill. June 21, 2021 . Drought Laughter in the well. Granddad, you come out of there. Buried him that very same year. Songs and Letters, January 30, 2009 . [ 1141 ]

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Love’s Sweet Something

The rut of your thinking, the rough road, the weary pleasure in the familiar sights and sounds, and then the joy of a sudden storm that settles it all to ground — or it might be the laugh of a child, just as they lower you, just as wild seed takes root when love’s sweet something is found. Recently Banned Literature, August 22, 2016 . [ 1139 ]

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