for all slaughtered the women … mom said “girls don’t talk too much” I have not talked when the grown-ups were present this is how it started the heaviness of being a woman my tongue turned red I got wounded… I hid my growing breasts I felt shame I should not wear a short
do you know Istanbul everything is nice with you to get up to the same day under the same sky to embrace life seagulls are in a race of catching bagels behind the boats “while going to Üsküdar” it starts raining it takes us to the maiden tower near Hera and Leandros Ah Istanbul, you
A DEPICTION OF ISTANBUL Read More »
To test his ability To stay balanced For the longest time possible… He took off his shoes Jumped on the verandah’s balustrade Swayed right and left In another proof of his demonstrative confidence I feared he may fall outside the verandah Not inside it… Only because he did not know That my heart is, itself,
You could make your soul as a stick, and your skin thinner, and tightly drawn as a drum. You could beat slowly at first, till it become unintentionally a rhythm Totally naked, we will dance in front of you. And when the abundant sweat makes a swimmable river, we will rescue you
We have doubts today for the things we are looking for perhaps they might have taken us for more than fifteen years we do not want to break off for a ten thousand times our fate happens to be the road we took yesterday these long days testing those short days our big decision must
I looked ahead to this summer you took hold of I ran to you with this poem while you were waiting you know poetry makes me run faster you know poetry makes me go to sea Why should I forget what was lived just yesterday if only we could have stayed in that August
POETRY MAKES ME RUN Read More »
It judges all with justice, opens the eye of wisdom in the triangle, studies the life of man with care, and weighs the weight of word and deed. It keeps the names of the chosen in the memory of nations, stands unshaken as a guard of moral reckoning. It sees genius in works once scorned,
Maddeye hapsolmuş bir ışık parçasıyım, hayat bulmuş bir sözcük, genlerime kazınmış bir hatıra. Her gün, bir sarmaşık misali tırmanırım iyilik ve kötülük bilgisinin ağacının dalları boyunca adım adım ilerleyerek. Özgür iradeye sahibim. Güneşli yolu ya da gölgeli olanı seçebilir, tatlı veya acı meyveler verebilirim. Yaşam ve bilinç armağanı için minnettarım. Umutla bakıyorum geleceğe, sonsuzluğa doğru
It is hard to let go of emotions, hard to forget what desire is, hard to clear the mind of chaos and to look deep within oneself. There, one can find the primal light — a brightness that shines upon the tree of knowledge, of good and evil, and whispers softly: only love matters in
A butterfly settled on the windowpane a dancer of light and shadow, a living tale of metamorphosis in the kingdom of insects. Its wings, painted with colourful spots, gazed like great eyes, playing with bold hues, filled with sunlight and wind. Time paused within the frame. A magical stained glass appeared, a lyrical poem of
