Poet & Speaker @narashpoetry - Tumblr Blog

When you have a gift, a calling, a spiritual anointing on your life, there will be attacks. There will be people trying to put you down. Don’t let them. Always remember your purpose and your mission. People can tell you that your voice and your perspective don’t matter, but you know better. ✨ ✨ ✨ Tests come to distract me, they grow like the weeds in my garden. Tirelessly, I remove them again and again. I press on with the end goal in mind— my voice will move the world. ✨ ✨ ✨ From my poetry book, “I Hear the Birds Sing.” Order from Amazon or Bookbaby 🙏🏾💕. (at Glendale, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CgI7WE6Of0E/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

One of the best lessons I learned in life is to hold everything with an open hand. To let things flow to me and away from me. If something is meant to be, it will come to me, it will be easy, and it will stay. If something is meant to be in my life only for a season, it will come and then go. I found freedom when I let everything go and surrendered to the flow. ♥️ ♥️ ♥️ I used to hate the end of things. I closed my fists so nothing would be taken away from me. Loyal to a fault, I held on for too long. Now, I leave my hands open— everything belongs to the sun. In a moment, a bird flies and rests on my hand, and in the next, it flies away. ✨ ✨ ✨ Page 93 of, “I Hear the Birds Sing.” Copy link below or click on link in bio to order: https://store.bookbaby.com/book/I-Hear-the-Birds-Sing (at Burbank, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CfphCT-p-V1/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

Sometimes the end of something might feel like your whole world is collapsing. Like the walls are closing in. Like there’s no oxygen to breathe. But often times, the end of a relationship, job, or era had to come so that you can receive what is meant for you. What’s best for you. Look up, and look ahead—the best is yet to come. . . . When I held your hand, I felt like nothing could break me. But when you left, you took the very last breath of me. Everything changed— even the sky looked gray. But today, I heard two birds sing to each other. Their songs woke me up. I looked out my window and saw them fly off into the bright blue sky. . . . From “I Hear the Birds Sing.” You can order from link in bio. (at Sylmar, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cez7l4iLgjn/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

A love like this never gets old. Tag your loved one in the comments below. . . . When I look at you, I see the sunrise and the sunset at the same time. I see the ocean, I feel the wind in my hair, I hear the birds sing. . . . Page 75 of I Hear the Birds Sing. Click link below or in bio to order: https://store.bookbaby.com/book/I-Hear-the-Birds-Sing (at Glendale, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CeofvIkJAAe/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

I can’t remember the last time I saw so many butterflies. Now I see at least 10 a day. To me, they are reminders that #thebestisyettocome . . . Every time I feel your energy, a butterfly flies right in front of me, reminds me to look up and look ahead, tells me, you’re coming. . . . Page 67 of “I Hear the Birds Sing.” Click on link below or in bio to order: https://www.amazon.com/Hear-Birds-Sing-Narine-Ashnalikyan/dp/1098368134/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=I+hear+the+birds+sing+narine+ashnalikyan&qid=1623698106&sr=8-1 (at Glendale, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CeiF0qFOTey/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#thebestisyettocome

A lot of people ask me how I come up with my poems. My poems come out of me. There are words and phrases that I can’t stop thinking about. They’re the seeds to my poems. I write and edit and cut to get a final result that is clear and easy to understand. They bloom from my thoughts like these beautiful flowers—and I give them a home in my books, on this page, and in some of your hearts. I have a lot of new ideas and new ventures I’m working on. Can’t wait to share them with you💕. . . . You can order “I Hear the Birds Sing,” from the link in my bio. (at Studio City, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CeWX5txF60R/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

Love this captured moment…doing what I love, reading my poems. Poets are often like prophets, telling what will come, speaking truths, putting emotions in words, in stories, in books. . . . @bridgingtheborders (at Tufenkian Fine Arts) https://www.instagram.com/p/CdHuRdHLou4/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

To speak the same language, eat the same food, understand the deep pain—that is everything. . . . We are spread out over the Earth, but our language binds us. Our love is endless, we would die for each other. Our strength is matchless, they try to kill us, and we rise up together. Around the dinner table, we eat dolmas, apricots, and pomegranates. We drink bitter coffee, black tea, red wine. We dance with the drums. We sing, we laugh. We cry with the duduk, we share stories and remember. Armenian, when I meet you, I know the blood in your veins runs in my veins. When I shake your hand and we say, “Բարեւ,” I see the strength in your eyes, the resilience in your spirit. . . . Page 20 from “I Hear the Birds Sing.” Click on link below or in bio to order: https://www.amazon.com/Hear-Birds-Sing-Narine-Ashnalikyan/dp/1098368134/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=I+hear+the+birds+sing+narine+ashnalikyan&qid=1623698106&sr=8-1 (at Glendale, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CczYhoEuox8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

It has been 107 years. We are lucky to be alive. We are grateful but still overcoming all the traumas that come with Genocide. Although they tried to erase our people from the Earth, they did not win. My people are strong. My people are resilient. #armeniangenocide #1915neveragain ⁣ (at Little Armenia, Los Angeles) https://www.instagram.com/p/CcwJRskvq2r/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#armeniangenocide #1915neveragain

Although they tried to break us, to end us, they didn’t succeed. When we come together, we dance, we sing, we remember. Where we came from. Who we are. And where we are going. . . . When I hear the beat of the drums in our Armenian music, my whole body moves. I kick my legs, I raise my arms. Every cell in my body fills with joy and my life extends. Perhaps it was this— the memories, the drums, our music that saved us. . . . Page 19 from “I Hear the Birds Sing.” Click on link below or in bio to order: https://www.amazon.com/Hear-Birds-Sing-Narine-Ashnalikyan/dp/1098368134/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=I+hear+the+birds+sing+narine+ashnalikyan&qid=1623698106&sr=8-1 (at Glendale, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CcuORSguXPk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

I won’t let my feet walk away from me. I return to myself over and over again. . . . Page 120 from “I Hear the Birds Sing.” Click on link below to order: https://www.amazon.com/Hear-Birds-Sing-Narine-Ashnalikyan/dp/1098368134/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=I+hear+the+birds+sing+narine+ashnalikyan&qid=1623698106&sr=8-1 (at Burbank, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CcHqI6rOSnW/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

God is not in your horoscope, or in your yoga class, He’s not in your magazines or computer God is not in your bedsheets He’s not in the locker room He loved you so much He became one of you He took all your mistakes upon Himself and cleaned you with his blood. God is waiting for you, drawing near to you, calling you— those who have ears, let them hear. . . . Follow me @narashpoetry for more poems and quotes. (at Glendale, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CcCdaXHLH1h/?utm_medium=tumblr

I open my hands to the Earth and all it’s possibilities— to the Sun to the birds to the butterflies— they call my name they tell me to listen they tell me to wait. . . . Follow me @narashpoetry for more poems and quotes. (at Sherman Oaks, LA, CA) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cby_yT9ObFt/?utm_medium=tumblr

Hard times reveal true characters— who someone is in the dark is who someone is. . . . Follow me @narashpoetry for more poems and quotes. (at Burbank, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cbl-O1yuddy/?utm_medium=tumblr

My body was born with pain, I didn’t notice the black and blue bruises on my skin, didn’t pay attention to the stings, to the tenderness in my flesh. To me, it was another regular day living with pain and pretending like everything is okay—like I do every month, until the burns told me to stop, told me to wait, told me to slow down told me to slow down told me to slow down. . . . Follow me @narashpoetry for more poems and quotes. (at Burbank, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CbWaZSELvIC/?utm_medium=tumblr

It took 30 years for me to learn to listen to my body— it enjoys the slow stillness of quiet mornings, the birds singing, the breeze of the winds, the sun on my skin. I move too fast, like my brain until my body brings me pain to slow down, and listen. . . . Follow me @narashpoetry for more poems and quotes. (at Glendale, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CbRionwAi_J/?utm_medium=tumblr

Threat The most dangerous weapon I carry is my beauty. An imminent threat to insecure women. A threat to men who can’t have me—fragile egos. When I walk into a room, everyone notices. Being average would be easier. But I learned to carry my weapon with grace and honor. And welcome those who welcome her. . . . Follow me @narashpoetry for more poems and quotes. (at Burbank, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CbO6aPMuXtS/?utm_medium=tumblr

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Poet & Speaker