________________1
Like tress in a frostbitten hold,
Whose limbs crack in the winter cold,
So too our hearts, left unwarmed, can be
Chill-shattered, and robbed of their gold.
________________2
You tiny little illusionist you,
None outdo the quilts that daily you renew
And hanging from invisible threads above,
You’ve convinced so many that you flew.
________________3
My grief is a vast deep sea
Connecting back and forth, to eternity.
The troubles of peoples so long ago
Remain today the lofty seat of identity.

2008, NYC

Edward S. Majian is a magician, writer, and recent graduate with degrees in philosophy, political science, and social justice. A brief biography is available below. For the time being, this website has been deconstructed and will undergo intensive reconstruction as circumstances necessitate. Until then, feel free to enjoy an occasional change in selected poetry, check for updates or give the gift of contact, using the appropriate links below.

©2009 Edward S. Majian - All Rights Reserved.