Aram Stefanian Poems
|127.||Shot In The Arm||1/11/2005|
|129.||Funeral Of Death||5/24/2005|
|138.||Wait On Me (From Book Untitled)||2/12/2005|
|142.||The Realm Of Angels||12/20/2005|
|143.||Amigos Y Enemigos||12/20/2005|
|148.||Dead To The World||4/20/2005|
|153.||Discover (From Book Untitled)||2/12/2005|
|155.||Boys In Blue||2/12/2005|
Comments about Aram Stefanian
Angels And Demons (To Kurt Cobain) From Book: Angeles Rebeldes Y Demonios Extranjeros
I wonder what compelled you to take the Dutch act?
An O.D. on number three, thirteen or eight?
A suicidal soul gets no access to heaven, yet it's intact.
How come you really blew it by the kiss of death?
Even if sound travels slower than light,
Music can deeply penetrate into the galaxy.
SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT will put down the eternal night.
What kind of jury found us guilty of heterodoxy?
I don't subscribe to the view that demons write a tune:
They're knee-deep in own humdrum infernal chores.
It's only angels who are to misery and pain immune
A Sucker's Life
We were dead-end kids in the City of God,
We had enough street smarts to mug and kill.
And when the walking wounded were choking on blood,
We took our time to pick up our heaters and chill.
We needed more C to get over the cocaine blues,
We heisted the street pushers and took dinero and grass,
We formed our juvie gang of junk pushers, but were bad news,
The pigs busted many of us and nailed to a cross.
We fired up, and then set fire to the pig heaven,