your oriental mustard reaching out to me between my eyelashes I take it as if it is something, for me a couple of geranium branches and again it is something I take in my own way the poet says “amazingly, it was such a great pleasure given by your fingertips” I cover with
A BIT OF SOMETHING FROM US Read More »
“There is no blue without yellow and orange” To Vincent in van gogh’s mind the cats and for sure the sunflowers sway in the breezes with his brushes a starry night on the rhone and a few women from arles who could recognize a modern schizophrenic with his beardless self-portrait maybe with
simit is lovely you are lovelier than simit Say hello to Şeyho let him bring me a cup of tea let me eat my fill first to be followed by love and revolution… when you woke up matters of country cannot rise, the priority is your debts you owe someone they get up in
The life I was exiled to its face, As the paper thin sorrow was in place I sifted through the cement words… The ones who always talk about the blue color I wonder whether they are oceans or not? The dark-skinned women infiltrated into the paper I was forced to accept the black color,
THE BLUE COLORED WOMEN Read More »
I loaded the invisibility of my appearance On the faces with high volume sound Through making it diminish by silence Leaving it enslaved behind every door I closed… I’ve gone, I’ve made departure on and on A buttoned up heart at my chest, For not resembling someone By startling the night and My inability
THE INVISIBILITY OF MY APPEARANCE Read More »
Deli Memet, the crazy wind of Gökova Born from Gökova, from Gökova’s sea From the seahorses, from the breath of the seahorses Once out of the sea and stepping in the air He runs to the lowland He climbs up to the sky, to the stars and the moon He falls flat on the ground,
BOREAS AND ALKYONE* Read More »
I come out of the blue like a very exited letter Like a letter its envelop was sealed with kisses The marks of the lips are warmer Actually after you stick a stamp On the inner face of the envelop On the face of the letter you wrote I love you The looks are
for touching the enlightenment in the darkness you are the one I never get tired running for with my feet i submitted in the fire on the roads i ventured i aged the stories, I buried children though this has been a decree of a void that is the voice inside of it never spoke
To Bedrettin Cömert Read More »
-I- Like the loneliness of an outlaw, Life in my hands is chronic. I draw its course on torn pages. The fears that have become a mask for my heart, Then I make my nights bleed. The face of my doubts wrinkles. They betray my impatience. Oh, my life, I’m freezing. The wind that
I saw cold nights, and the moon was eclipsed It had dropped its wings into the sea The loneliness of a seagull caught my eye Come, carry the image of pain for a lifetime The oceans in my heart, stabbed with blue From now on, they will freeze Every step I take turns into
