by Keith Garebian
A delve into the personal history of a man affected by the Armenian genocide and the ways he makes Canada home. The poetic lines and strong emotional tug of the book outline the long lasting effects of trauma and what it means to remake a home.
|Dimensions||9 × 6 × .25 in|
Soft Cover with flaps
Keith Garebian is a widely published, award-winning freelance literary and theatre critic, biographer, and poet. Among his many awards are being shortlisted for the Freefall Magazine Poetry Award and the Gwendolyn MacEwen-Exile Poetry Award in 2015, and the GritLit Poetry Award in 2016. He won the Canadian Authors Association (Niagara Branch) Poetry Award (2009), the Mississauga Arts Award (2000 and 2008), a Dan Sullivan Memorial Poetry Award (2006), and the Lakeshore Arts & Scarborough Arts Council Award for Poetry (2003).
Keith is the author author of 24 books (eight of poetry) to date. He has been a juror for the Gerald Lampert Award and other poetry competitions. Some of his poetry has been translated into French, Armenian, Hebrew, Romanian, and Bulgarian.
The Toughest Organ
The heart, the toughest organ
beating in burning caves stopped with rock,
crucifixions on high altars,
under water where fish leech the drowned.
The heart beats in relics,
buttons, hair, shoes, gold teeth.
No need for more inventories.
The heart lives strongest against forgetting
in paper trails. Crusoe’s journal, Anne Frank’s diary,
Radnoti’s small notebook soaked in body fluids,
Oh, if I could believe that I haven’t merely borne
what is worthwhile, in my heart; that there is, to return a home.[i]
Hikmet’s prison letters to his wife,
(I’m not allowed
to see the sky overhead…)[ii]
Gunter Eich’s postcards:
But when the war is over
we’ll go to Minsk
and pick up Grandmother.[iii]