Mihran Kalaydjian Singing Forever Without You

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZp3Wk2PPG0

Mihran Kalaydjian Singing
“Forever Without You”

ritten by Joseph Nalbandian
Lyrics “Forever Without You
Genre: Melody
Year: 2014
Producer: Samer Gubran Khoury & Sami Abdo
Recording & arrangement: Paramount Studios

So I will not hurt
My heart was filled with bitterness
Here I leave you.
And I do not know, where are you going?
I doubt shivering
May God protected you.

I doubt shivering
May God protected you.

Ah, sad life without you
Day of the year will be
But wherever you are, my soul again
Look around to vibration

Ah, sad life without you
Day of the year will be
But wherever you are, my soul again
Look around to vibration

And Theory hour
‘Do not forget to pray
Ah, sad life without you
Day of the year will be
But wherever you are, my soul again
Look around to vibration

Ah, sad life without you
Day of the year will be
But wherever you are, my soul again
Look around to vibration

Ah, sad life without you
Day of the year will be
But wherever you are, my soul again
Look around to vibration Ah, sad life without you
Day of the year will be
But wherever you are, my soul again
Look around to vibration
But wherever you are, my soul again
Look around to vibration

Mihran Kalaydjian Forever Without You
© 2014 Paramount Studios All Rights Reserved

 

“Never Thought (That I Could Love)”

love-more-than-before1

Can I touch you?
I can’t believe that you are real
How did I ever find you?
You are the dream that saved my life
You are the reason I survived
Baby…

I never thought that I could love
Someone as much as I love you
I know it’s crazy but it’s true
I never thought that I could need
Someone as much as I need you
I Love You…

Can I hold you?
Girl your smile lights up the sky
You are too beautiful for the human eye
You are the dream that never dies
You are the fire that burns inside
Baby…

I never thought that I could love
Someone as much as I love you
I know it’s crazy but it’s true
I never thought that I could need
Someone as much as I need you
I Love You…

You are the sunshine in the sky
You are the sparkle in my eyes

I never thought that I could love
Someone as much as I need you
I know it’s crazy but it’s true
I know it’s truelove
I never thought that I could need
Someone as much as I need you
I LOVE YOU

 

 

For the Union Dead

By Mihran Kalaydjian, CHA

Consultant, Strategist, and Writer

Image

The old South Boston Aquarium stands
in a Sahara of snow now. Its broken windows are boarded.
The bronze weathervane cod has lost half its scales.
The airy tanks are dry.

Once my nose crawled like a snail on the glass;
my hand tingled to burst the bubbles
drifting from the noses of the cowed, compliant fish.

My hand draws back. I often sign still
for the dark downward and vegetating kingdom
of the fish and reptile. One morning last March,
I pressed against the new barbed and galvanized

fence on the Boston Common. Behind their cage,
yellow dinosaur steamshovels were grunting
as they cropped up tons of mush and grass
to gouge their underworld garage.

Parking spaces luxuriate like civic
sandpiles in the heart of Boston.
a girdle of orange, Puritan-pumpkin colored girders
braces the tingling Statehouse,

shaking over the excavations, as it faces Colonel Shaw
and his bell-cheeked Negro infantry
on St. Gaudens’ shaking Civil War relief,
propped by a plank splint against the garage’s earthquake.

Two months after marching through Boston,
half of the regiment was dead;
at the dedication,
William James could almost hear the bronze Negroes breathe.

Their monument sticks like a fishbone
in the city’s throat.
Its Colonel is as lean
as a compass-needle.

He has an angry wrenlike vigilance,
a greyhound’s gentle tautness;
he seems to wince at pleasure,
and suffocate for privacy.

He is out of bounds now. He rejoices in man’s lovely,
peculiar power to choose life and die-
when he leads his black soldiers to death,
he cannot bend his back.

On a thousand small town New England greens
the old white churches hold their air
of sparse, sincere rebellion; frayed flags
quilt the graveyards of the Grand Army of the Republic

The stone statutes of the abstract Union Soldier
grow slimmer and younger each year-
wasp-waisted, they doze over muskets
and muse through their sideburns…

Shaw’s father wanted no monument
except the ditch,
where his son’s body was thrown
and lost with his ‘niggers.’

The ditch is nearer.
There are no statutes for the last war here;
on Boylston Street, a commercial photograph
shows Hiroshima boiling

over a Mosler Safe, the ‘Rock of Ages’
that survived the blast. Space is nearer.
when I crouch to my television set,
the drained faces of Negro school-children rise like balloons.

Colonel Shaw
is riding on his bubble,
he waits
for the blessed break.

The Aquarium is gone. Everywhere,
giant finned cars nose forward like fish;
a savage servility
slides by on grease.