The path of a wonderer...

sen-ben-biz

2012-01-30T06:54:00.000-08:00

akışına bırakılmayacak kadar beklenen bir an
yaşamaya tezat
ateş böceklerinin karanlıkta bıraktıkları izler gibi
aşk gibi
ölüm gibi ama birkaç yerinden vurularak
bam bam bam
kan gibi
karların içinde
sevişmek gibi sonra
dirilmek gibi
ve tekrar ölmek üzere
ya da dönmek üzere
yaşamak kadar gerçek olana
sevmeye
bam bam bam
akışına bırakılmayacak kadar beklenen bir an
ölüme tezat
kanıyorum karda gülüyorum gibi
sabah sabah ateş böceklerini arıyorum gibi.

kıyıdan köseden

2011-11-06T05:53:00.000-08:00

hiç cesaret edilemeyen öpüşlerle geçiyor ömrümüz.
sonrasında bakıyoruz tek teni öpmüşüz;
diğer çoğunluğu severken.
ve fark etmelerle geçiyor ömrümüz.
özdeş bedenimizle - yasak ve gece -
sevişme sahneleriyle,
sığınılan yabancılarla,
ahenksizliğin ahengiyle uyuyoruz,
aynı yastıklarda.

shut your eyes

2011-09-13T14:19:00.000-07:00

aklıma gelişlerinde,
yumunca gözlerimi giderler.
öyle çabuk gelip, öyle çabuk giderler.
sen gibi.
aslında;
sen gibi bir şimşek çakıyor,
her yumuşlarımda,
ben biz gibi ağaç altında durmuyor,
izliyorum az uzaktan.
kalbime mi düşüyor yıldırımı bilemiyorum.
gözlerimi açıyorum.

full circle

2011-09-01T16:21:00.000-07:00

It takes some silence to make sound,
And it takes a lost before you found it,
And it takes a road to go nowhere,
It takes a toll to make you care,
It takes a hole to make a mountain.

And it takes no time to fall in love,
But it takes you years to know what love is.

Ip

2011-09-01T16:06:00.000-07:00

İncelen bir ip gibisin.
İnceleceğinden korktuğun kadar,
İnceltmeyi hep beceren.
En becerikli olansın.
Geçtin çoktan beni,
Katmer katmer.
Yummuşken sen bize gözlerini,
Ve sen açtırmadıkça ağzımı,
Ben bileyemedim bıçağımı.
İnceltemedim satırlarımı.
Olsun varsın.
İncelen bir ip gibisin sen nasolsa.
Şimdileri ağlatmıyorsun da çok.
Ben çoktan geçmişim seni.
Sesim, saçım, giysim senin olsun.
Madem seviyorsun.
Ben zaten beni arıyorum.
Sense avare kaçıyorsun.
Küçüklüğümün misinaları misali,
Rafa kaldırılmaya mahkum,
İncelen bir ip gibisin.

after "Little White Lies"

2011-07-31T17:14:00.000-07:00

eyes
gaze

i miss yours

even things change
even things stay all the same

even i tried
and try
wait for the tears to dry

seeing things
scary

incir reçeli tadında demek dogru mu olur tuzlu biraz yasla karısınca

2011-06-15T15:20:00.000-07:00

- Bir şeyler söylemem gerekiyor dimi ?

+ Gerekmiyor bir şey söylemek sana göre değil. Sen bir şey söylemeden gidersin dimi? Hem de öyle bir gidersin ki, bırak yaşamayı insanın nefes alması bile yarım kalır. Sen o kadar bir şey söylemeden gidersin ki üstüne milyonlarca şey söylenir. Sen bana bir şey söyleme, git. Sadece git.

- Gitmedim.

+ Yanlış. Sen hiç gelmedin…

(İncir Reçeli)

mütemadiyen hep olur zaten,
mütemadiyen sarhoşluk, mütemadiyen özlem
mütemadiyen çarpar ertesi gün kapılar,
ama açılmak üzere yine,
mütemadiyen açıldığından hiç tam açılamaz ama.
açıldıkça mütemadiyen ağlarsın, çünkü geçemeyeceğin dev kapılardır.
mütemadiyen.

özledigim bir seyler oluyor genelde

2011-06-05T14:34:00.000-07:00

Sonlarımın başlangıçları oldukça sen
Başlangıçlarımın da sonu ol istemem
Çıldırıp kalmamak için zamansız, selamsız
- her şey(sız)
İki insan gibi kaldım
Birbiriyle konuşan
Çelişen
Vuruştukça yoruldukça
Sonun başına geldikçe
Karşılaştıkça
Güç buldukça yıkıldıkça
Umutsuzca
Umutlu

Only way

2011-05-19T08:52:00.000-07:00

I need a rescuer.

Because I can't fix myself anymore.

how i wish

2011-04-26T13:05:00.000-07:00

Olaylar nadiren beklenildiği gibi gelişiyor ve biz gerçekten de hayat ne getiriyorsa onu yaşıyorduk.

Brazzaville - Morning Light (East L.A. Breeze) by tatobago

Bizi gördüm rüyamda, yokmuşuz , masalmışız. Biri bizi anlatmış bitmişiz. Yalanmışız. Ya da adsız bir şeymişiz.

"Ne yalan söyleyeyim, düşünmezdim.
Öyle sabırlı, öyle sessiz… yüzüne ağlayarak bakardın. Sanki hep başını beklerdi geleceği olmayan hatıraların. Konuşsa elbet onu yaralarından tanırdın. Dışı korsan, içi iç denizlerde yaşayan bir kadın. Koyu, puslu yüzü, korkunun kokusuyla kaplanmıştı. Oysa konuşsan ya da dokunsan, çekip gidecekti içindeki o korkunç noksanlık. Hiçbir zaman yapmadı, yüzeyselliğini korudu. Merhem gibi yaralarının üzerinden usul usul geçen hikayesi tamamen kaybolmuş olamaz, belli ki onu anlatmanın gücünü kaldırmazdı. Belki bir gün anlatırdı bu bittiği yerde son bulmayan hikayeyi, ama çok belliydi sonunda gökten üç elma düşmeyeceği.
Onun için şimdilik böyle devam ediyordu hayat, en lazım yerinden hızla incelmeye.
Ve evet, her sessizlik biraz ihtilaldi aslında."
Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here by cecilen

...ve kuvvetle hissediyordu birken iki olabilenin, iki iken sıfır olabileceğini.

I'm in between figuring out who i am and giving up,
or maybe giving up because of who i am,
i shut my eyes and dream of bright lights,
water, sky, a motel, two left bags,

this is all about leaving something good behind.

missing,
moving on..

Unutmak, derin hatırlamak

2011-02-24T11:35:00.000-08:00

Bir kez bile aksini düşünsen hemen dokunmak istersin.
Bu işler hep böyle.
Nefret ettiğin kadar seviyorsun çünkü.
Ve onu gördüğünde nefretler zaten nereye gidiyor bilinmez,
Gece uyumadan çıkarıyorsun.
Tekken çıkarıyorsun, yalnızken. Konuşmaya dilin varmıyor.
Varıyor, pabuç kadar dilin oluyor o zaman da.
Kime neyi dediğini bilmiyorsun.
Kendini bilmediğinden oluyor hep çünkü.
Bu işler hep böyle.
Kendine yapıyorsun.
Sıkıntı orda.
O da yapsın istiyorsun çünkü.
Ve ısrarla yapmıyor,
Yapmayacak, biliyorsun.
Sonu çaresizse zaten kaldırıp atman lazım geliyor.
Mantık kurallarınca, stratejik düşünüyorsun.
Kurtulmanın binbir yollarını diziyorsun.
Küçükten büyüğe, muhteşem bir sırayla. Ve mutlak bir mutluluğa ereceğini sanıyorsun.
Sanıyorsun uzun süre.
Sonra işte sebepsiz yere olmaya başlıyor işler. Yerine koymacalar.
Sebepsiz değiller ki. Aklında onunla kalmışsın.
Uyumuşsunuz beraber uzun süre. Yaşamış, atlatmışsınız. Dövüşerek çoğunlukla.
Daha ne sebep istiyorsun?
Yorgunsun.
Sana geçmişini sen istediğinde,
-Ama sadece senin canın çekince soracak-,
Bir omuz istiyorsun.
Yorgunsun.
Bencil olan sen olmayı, dinlenmeyi istiyorsun.
Yalnızlığı sevdiğini söylüyor ama kandırıyorsun seni,
Dayanmayı istiyorsun.
Sevilmeyi...

Purity

2011-02-11T14:40:00.000-08:00

happy.
it is health.
it is short memory. just a span. belongs to a particular instant.
it is the lightness of pain.
a need.
life.
itself.
you.

looking for similars

2011-02-01T11:01:00.000-08:00

-You really want to know something I've sacrificed so much trying to forget?
-Yes. Otherwise you'll be forever prisoner to the secret inside you.

If you didn't read Haruki Murakami till now. Grab one. You'll keep asking:
"Who in the world am I ?"
And won't ever answer.

How can you explain the inexplicable? In the end you'll see, you couldn't have cared less about the difference between what you knew and what you didn't know. Because inside us what we know and what we don't know share the same abode. Most people erect a wall between them. It makes life easier. But I just swept that wall away. I had to. I hate walls. That's just the kind of person I am. And my only answer to the question above.

infinite

2011-01-17T09:38:00.000-08:00

"And sometimes even we found the answer we've been looking for, we're still left with a whole hell of a lot questions."

-Meredith Grey

Countdown

2011-01-02T13:35:00.000-08:00

creating is my way of saying
letting the day to slip by
was a choice, now a solution.
otherwise confusion recurs.
because we're all misinformed.
we are alice.
with skinny wrists and curious eyes filled with fear,
and have some stories to tell.
from what we accept, from what they tell.
but we never figure out who we really are.
i am a cracked bone, not broken.
imperfect, coward and overly sore.
in a blanket.
in recovery.
in confusion.
inspired.

Keep blaming the youth

2010-12-28T12:49:00.000-08:00

"It was no matter how it all ended, or was destined to end" Oscar Wilde

To my Rey.

Simple fallower

2010-12-28T12:35:00.000-08:00

"The world is greater than I once thought, and I am much younger than I give myself credit for." - Sarp. http://skyfell.tumblr.com/

That's something weird about total strangers.
Getting lost in the same world, when we struggle apart.
Why had it been left for a stranger to reveal us to ourselves?
I also don't know.
Let's keep understanding each other.
Sooner or later, you deserved a thank you.

Things only matter, if you think they are true

2010-12-22T11:31:00.000-08:00

[in 1921]
Virginia Woolf: [writing in her book] Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.
[in 1951]
Laura Brown: [reading in bed] Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.
[in 2001]
Clarissa Vaughan: Sally, I think I'll buy the flowers myself.
[waking up]

" Leonard, always the years between us, always the years. Always the love. Always the hours." - Virginia Woolf

Colliding Thoughts

2010-12-11T03:06:00.000-08:00

You are the ones who
Appeared out of nowhere.
Surprising me.
Everytime I feel less
You have become the more.
But the heartache just ended, very recent, warm.
It occured to me that I could let you in, all in.
But somehow, with some of you I've managed to continue.
It's time to let it all out.
It's time to become blue.
After all, sky never fall.

Solved

2010-11-26T06:46:00.000-08:00

"There is only two ways to get unraveled. One is to sleep and the other is to travel"
The Doors

Faith?

2010-11-11T08:47:00.000-08:00

A shiver runs back and forth.
Feel naked,
With my clothes on.

Sırf bu

2010-11-09T13:19:00.000-08:00

Elim ağrıyana kadar yazayım, yorulayım.
Uyuyayım.
Tükenmiş, yorulmuş olayım ama dert etmeyeyim.
Öyle bi uyku uyuyayım yani.

No choice

2010-11-09T13:09:00.000-08:00

"Sonsuz olanı buradan başka
yerde ararız her zaman;
her zaman varlığın bakışını
şimdiki durumdan ve şimdiki
görünüşten başka şeye yöneltiriz;
ya da, sanki her an ölmek ve
yeniden yaşamak değilmiş gibi,
ölümü bekleriz.
Her an yeni bir yaşam sunulur
bize. Bugün, şimdi, hemen,
tutabileceğimiz tek şey budur." - alain.

Ender ve apayrı olan şey, şeyler

2010-11-07T12:47:00.000-08:00

"Birbirlerini anlamadıkları için, ikisi de birbiri hakkında bir hayali ayakta tutabiliyorlardı, bu da gerçeğin değilse de aşkın başlangıcıdır genellikle."
Ve çocuk öyle sandı.

"Sanki onun yanında olmayışı o duygunun bir biçimde tertemiz kalmasını sağlıyormuş gibiydi. Bir de hani dile getirilmeyen bir şey olmak gibi bir erdemi vardır ya aşkın, kendisine ait bir sırdır."
Çocuk gülümsedi. Gözlerini kapadı.
Ne de olsa gözler kapalıyken gerçek dünya başlamıştı hep.

Let's meet

2010-10-30T14:36:00.000-07:00

So what's the matter with you?
Sing me something new... don't you know
The cold and wind and rain don't know
They only seem to come and go away

Learning myself

2010-10-29T12:26:00.000-07:00

For better or worse,
Confession was the biggest part.
Especially to myself.
* * *
We just need to find ways to become more than our biology.
The risk, of course, is that we can change too much to the point we don't recognize ourselves.
Finding our way back can be difficult.
There's no compass, nor map. As usual.
We just have to close our eyes, take a step and hopefully, we'll get there.
Someday.

The invisible minorities in Life

2010-09-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

"Waking up starts by saying "Now" and "Me"."
- A film by the photographer Tom Ford 'A Single Man'

Sanırım çok etkisinde kaldım.

Strength

2010-09-25T01:10:00.000-07:00

We're all miracles.
Because as humans everyday we go about our business and all that time we know,
we all know,
that the things we love,
the people we love,
at any time it can all be taken away.
We live knowing that and we keep going anyway.
Animals don't do that.

Dua eder bulursan bir gece kendini

2010-09-17T05:40:00.000-07:00

Sizler, mazidekiler.
Konuşmaya başlarsanız ağlamam gelir,
Sarılabilmek hayal kalmıştır çoğunuza.
Mürekkepiniz akar önce mektuplarınızdan.
Derken donuk bakışlarınız canlanır ya hani.
O anı sevemiyorum işte.
İnsan canlı kanlı istiyor yanında, ne yaparsın [...]

Judged by me, Judged myself

2010-09-17T02:12:00.000-07:00

Dün sabaha karşı, kendimle konuştum.
Ben hep kendime çıkan bir yokuştum.
Yokuşun başında bir düşman vardı,
Onu vurmaya gittim, kendimle vuruştum…

- Özdemir ASAF

Fiction Again

2010-08-30T16:31:00.000-07:00

If reality was a bit more enough, I would not be dreaming.

So, listen the quiet

2010-08-24T13:02:00.000-07:00

There's always,
a little pain behind every it's ok
a little i need you behind every leave me alone
a little emotion behind every i don't care
but a lot of words behind the silence.

2010-08-21T11:17:00.000-07:00

" Human vocabulary is still not capable, and probably never will be, of knowing, recognizing, and communicating everything that can be humanly experienced and felt. "
- Jose Saramago

in Me.

2010-08-16T15:11:00.000-07:00

When I speak words just fail.

When I write words just confess.

We should rather keep silent.
You are inside me anyways.

Seni yitiriyorum. Çok karanlık bir andan. Birden uyanıyorum, yanımdasın.

2010-08-07T11:37:00.000-07:00

-Don't think I'm alone.
"Sometimes I just wonder,
If I would just lay down, cry a bit,
-till I see everywhere blurry and red.-
How many minutes later I will find someone next to me,
Rather than my mom?"
-Oh, don't think I'm alone.

"I choose and love to stay -and talk- by myself, more than anything."
-And by the way, don't think I'm alone.
" 'Cause it's my greatest fear ever."
-You know what I do the best?
I am just succeed in missing people.
A lot.
A lot.
A lot.
A lot.
A lot.
And it's heavier when they actually don't.
"Oh, don't be that fragile!"
Okay,Yes,Then, Let's find some beautiful place to get lost and listen to each other. I am in! And I know that you will be too, -someday.

Still self-same

2010-07-26T11:21:00.000-07:00

1 step forward, 1 step backward.
I know what I want. But my dreams are too complex for this world right now.

And I'm learning how to suppress my desires.

Let's continue,

1 step forward, 1 step backward.

Hearing the impossible

2010-07-20T16:41:00.000-07:00

Apparently Zen Koans are people significant enough to get published in the first page of J.D. Salinger's book "Nine Stories." - Sitting cross-legged in deep concentration?

"We know the sound of two hands clapping.

But what is the sound of one hand clapping?" - A Zen Koan

Of course, logically, there can be no sound from a single hand. It needs two hands clapping. However, maybe the question says that one hand clapping has already created a sound and that it can be heard. The question is rather about hearing the impossible, which is only termed impossible within the known reality.

-Let's clap. Şak-şak-şak-şak-şak.

Didn't you hear? That's what I'm talking about.

After the rain crickets appear

2010-07-20T04:41:00.000-07:00

I will never know why I miss you that much.

And it probably won’t matter in a few years or few decades anyway.

Misty-minded universe

2010-07-20T03:59:00.000-07:00

Perfect day for writing.
Oh, still, don't know what to do with my expectations.
And fears, and thoughts, and myself.
No big deal, i am imperfect. And a bit fragile.
Like Yoko Ono once mentioned;
"You may think I’m small, but I have a universe inside my mind."
Sky fell from the sky. It's what rain is.
Basic. Simple.
Tranquility.
While everyone else inside the anxiety.
And I can't see why,
because when I look up,
my eyes just fill with
Sky.

Will you..?

2010-07-13T11:51:00.000-07:00

Biri gelir sorarsa
Sana beni sorarsa,
Gitti der misin?
Gittiğimi söyler misin?
Gidiyorum ben sana
Benimle gider misin?

- Özdemir Asaf

Calling for the Supertramps

2010-07-06T15:19:00.000-07:00

Director Sean Penn hand-picked Vedder to provide the music for the film "Into the Wild". Vedder's songs written for the film feature a folk sound. But whenever I hear his voice I think about all the other Alexander Supertramps or the ones who has potential but compresses with life itself...

Eddie Vedder - Long Nights from Özlem Nokta on Vimeo.

Looking for Dylan

2010-06-27T05:12:00.000-07:00

"Being noticed can be a burden. Jesus got himself crucified because he got himself noticed. So I disappear a lot."

Let me take my words with me.

No real root

2010-06-20T16:30:00.000-07:00

Part of me exists outside of myself.
Could only be explained by Shawshank legand photo.
Let me know if you know what i'm talking about.
It's like..- rain.
It drops and falls into the gray streets.
Where it gets dirtier.
Where it mixes with the dust and leaks through the sewages.
But part of it still there, up.
Raining before it turns into gray.

Red light, green light

2010-06-20T15:30:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, that's the only thing left: Just a feeling.
A feeling that is not named in the dictionaries yet.
It captures every degree of feelings, ruptured from each passing memory.
When your head is full, that's called thinking.
So, go with it. Think.
That never made my mind less full, but i guess i like it.
Not the thing about my mind, but, the time i spend just for thinking.
Usually nights. Dark, half-opened window. Alone.
But, as i said before, sometimes, the only thing left is just a feeling.
Out of all that mix in your head.
Unnamed. Just a feeling. As it comes to a dead end, hard to explain.
Don't know why i'm trying to, but wait a minute, i can see why.
It's just because as children we're told to smile, be cheerful and put on a happy face,
As adults we're told to look things from the bright side,
To make a lemonade and see the glass a half full.
But the reality is usually different.
I'm scared. Of losing, others and myself.
I'm jealous. Of the ones who can let me loose.
I'm flying high. With the therapeutic smile on the people i love.
I'm alone. As alone as i wanted.
And I'm out there, crossing the road thinking about every case.
The ones that drives the car.
The others that crosses the road.
And myself.
Then time stops, the car gets so near to me but puts on the brake.
Because sometimes, that's the only thing left: Just a feeling.
And that feeling can let me cross the road or ...

"Angie is dead, my name is Tetro!"

2010-06-17T12:20:00.000-07:00

I've been writing my own journal lately. Don't know why, i was in some kind of transition, to normal life, to the life that i used to love. Things will be normal again and ordinary. Till I go away. Anyways, this is not our topic tonight. 'Tetro'. I loved him. Do you know him?
Escaping from his past, but more than that escaping from his writings, poems and himself as a writer...
The extraordinary part about the film was the present was black and white, the past was colored.Just take a look, for me, it already became a masterpiece.

Headache

2010-05-12T15:46:00.000-07:00

I have an headache.
The reflected sound of everything at stake.
It hurts.
And I let it.
Many times tried to go to where it led.
But it didn't lead to anything worth and I'm afraid.
The pain goes through my eyes.
Ruining the clean sky and stars.
Then I blink inside the space,
Escaping from instant darknesses, saying to myself 'don't trace.'

Listen to me!

2010-05-01T05:49:00.000-07:00

I hated those unknown women.
They don't have names in my dictionaries.
I don't know them.
I never knew them.

Who knows, maybe one day we sat down together in a crowded bus,
Maybe we both believe in love but find it difficult to explain,
Maybe we both like the same coffee, a little bit sugary,
Or maybe we just walked the same road everyday,
But she first went to pastry instead,
That's why we never saw our faces,
Never came across.
Who knows, what those unknown women do now,
Sorry, I hate them.
They appeared, bursted out their names,
Sometimes they even wrote me,
Sometimes they even became a word in a letter.

I hated those unknown women.

They don't have names in my dictionaries.

I don't know them.

I never knew them.

But they stole a lot,

I just don't want to share my boys with them anymore!

-Oh, I'm blushed now.

But, it's my turn now,

To burst out my name - Sorry.

2010-04-22T16:26:00.000-07:00

who can say staying awake all night, watching and counting the drifts, the green and people and all the beauty from bus is unbearable? i can say that is my only medicine even though i need to sleep, even though i need to sit and work.

Landlocked Inspires

2010-04-22T14:50:00.000-07:00

...
"And the world’s got me dizzy again
You think after 22 years I’d be used to the spin
And it only feels worse when I stay in one place
So I’m always pacing around or walking away
I keep drinking the ink from my pen
And I’m balancing history books up on my head
But it all boils down to one quotable phrase
If you love something, give it away"
...
Tonight i feel like writing. Reading lyrics and writing non stop because i'm at home again. It's the only escape when i saw there's so much outside. When i again realized i'm happy on-the-go. There's nothing to prove left; words won't keep silent. and i'm near, so near, to find somewhere where i really belong, who i really miss. so tonight i really feel like writing but stucked because i'm at home again. and there is this band who doesn't left anything for me to say. at least tonight.

A real waltz

2010-04-06T04:01:00.000-07:00

There's no better feeling than starting your day with Elliott Smith's Waltz # 2,

"I'm never going to know you now,
But I'm gonna love you anyhow"

There's not much left to say, i'm just singing today.

After a coincidence

2010-04-03T02:05:00.000-07:00

look back how it got dirty,
maybe it didn't look like but my road was stinky!

for the first time i'm saying,
those times, loneliness was flowing,
and it's all because of your fault,
i thought you were the one in family who should stop my tear drops.

on the go i was healed,
the rain drops began to lead,

he was smiling under his slant eyes,
when i noticed how the coincidences changes us.

then he said, even though i have those Korean eyes,
i live in Taksim, smelling the same chestnuts.

thought i was keep on going,
but that night i started walking.

Grey

2010-03-07T03:07:00.000-08:00

Sharing rain,
Sharing it under an umberella.

Sharing heart,
Sharing it under what?

Who can prove to me that it never flows away?
Like this make up which already turned to grey...

A tide rises, a tide falls

2010-03-07T02:28:00.000-08:00

I walk alone on the hot sand.
When a tide rise,
In the calm seaside,
Far away, away from the shore,
I see a boat with a sailor inside.

Then the cold waves touch my toes.
His unseen and blurry face,
Make me feel thrilled and give me joy.
And I swim towards him,
Blushing by the butterflies inside.
Calling for his unknown hand,
From an unexplored world.
I swim and swim,
Thinking the lost kisses inside his dimple,
Hidden fingers moving fast and nervous,
And his memories shrouded in mystery.
I swim and swim,
Everyday thanking him,
For letting me come near and imagine,
Before touching his hand,
That exact moments that I don’t know him yet.
I swim and swim,
Till I see his face and touch his boat,
Till I see that the butterflies inside just flew away from my coat.
Till he become normal, known and overly romantic boy,
Then the tide falls,
In the calm seaside,
And me, wash ashored with my dead butterflies beside.

I walk alone on the hot sand,
And everytime,
A tide rises, a tide falls...

2010-02-26T13:15:00.000-08:00

The worst part is,
believing that you get over it,
when it starts all over again.

Cold?

2010-02-22T13:39:00.000-08:00

There are certain days,
that I find a company to myself.
we both watch outside, do the same
and that makes me stronger.
and that makes me feel just a little bit less alone.
I tried once to touch her.
Then I felt this creepy cold on the window.
never admitted that it was my reflection
Then I closed my eyes,
and when I opened, the shutters were closed.
mom told "it was cold"

New paper

2010-02-12T12:00:00.000-08:00

When something begins,
You generally have no idea,
how it's going to end,
that's why it's exciting,
as well as creepy.

Forgotten Ornaments

2010-01-24T17:00:00.000-08:00

Being a gold fish is scary.
It's a misfortune,
Not to be able to freeze under snow,
Without your scarf on.
Not to be able to love people,
That you never met before.
It's a misfortune,
Not to be able to stare at your bowl,
your home, your aquarium,
from outside,
Not to be able to die in the cold outside,
or in a crappy jail,
or even maybe in a white hospital bed.
It's a misfortune,
To only have one way,
Choking.
Being a goldfish is scary,
It's a misfortune,
Not to have enough time for bubbling,
But only trying to survive,
And seem as an ornament,
Over the coffee tables in the hospitals,
The place where people suppose to survive,
While the goldfishes are being left to die.

Monsters

2010-01-19T10:04:00.000-08:00

When you're little,
night time is scary,
Because there are monsters
hiding under your bed.
And when you wake up in the dead of night,
You know that you can’t fight.
Still you struggle,
till sweat makes you shiver.

When you get older,
the monsters are different.
Self doubt, loneliness or regret,
No shape, no color,
no sharp teethes anymore.
And though you maybe older and wiser,
you still found yourself scared of the dark.
And still you struggle,
Even though you sweat,
This time you shouldn’t get wet.

Broken mirror in house, an omen?

2010-01-07T14:12:00.000-08:00

Want my old courage back.
My old hair, so softly combed.
Mirrors now crack,
By my questioning face.
Now it’s all over the place.
Pieces of mirror,
Pieces of me,
Millions cracks, unfinished stories and fears,
Looking at me there, lying on the floor.
Want my old courage back.
My old hair, so softly combed.
So that I can’t ask anymore,
So that mirrors won’t go splinters.
So that I can comb my hair, put a little smile on my face,
Then go out, continue.
But I can’t.

I was named John

2010-01-03T08:57:00.000-08:00

I was named John,
And was mentally deranged, since that late December fog.
Grown in a strange house,
Where all the shades were always drawn.
Maybe that’s why,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
I wandered lonely as a cloud.
I wasn’t mind living in streets,
Though I’d rather work in a job,
Besides standing with my sandwich clay, all day long.
Some are tomato inside, some are salty cheese,
Always wondered, why no one wants these on my birthday eve.
Unaware that I borned on December 31st,
I continuosly wished to change my job.
Now I know that New Year’s wishes really work,
I wish to have enough money,
To make a sandwich filled with turkey.
I was named John,
And was mentally deranged, since that late December fog.
Don’t know why people look me strangely,
While none of them have time to make,
Even one wish hopefully.

After I met with Bukowski, he again was drunk and I listened...

2009-12-11T16:36:00.000-08:00

'the way to end a poem
like this
is to become suddenly
quite.'

Love & Fame & Death

'I would rather die than cry. I can't
stand hounds can't live without them.
I hang my head against the white
refrigerator and want to scream like
the last weeping of life forever but
I am bigger then the mountain.'

Trapped

'there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.'

Oh Yes

Genius stanzas from Bukowski.
I read them and I read again and again and again
I think I can only express my feelings again and again and again
with poem.

No love,
No faith,
No death,
We just trapped.
Oh yes!

For my tonight's best friend - Mr. Fog

2009-11-24T17:21:00.000-08:00

Late at night.
My only friend is fog tonight.

So, it looks like at last I got lost.
Maybe out of my mind, who knows?
They all asleep, they all busy with living.
But if you ask me, it feels okay.
It feels really good, just not to see even your own shade,
In this a bit white, a bit black,
but not grey foggy night,

I guess only the little light makes it through,
That street light, standing over there,
Only it shines, only it tries.
Fog seems unclear, fog seems blurry.
Fog seems dangerous isn’t it?
Do we need the street lights?
No, it’s just late at night, why can’t we be a little ‘unclear’ for a while?

Just one second ago, a bird chuckled,
Three seconds ago, some trees coughed,
Five seconds ago, a red car sneezed, and I said “Bless you!”
Did you see that?
Did you hear those?
Or were you so busy with trying to see around you by the street light - again?
In this a bit white, a bit black,
but I’m sure, not grey foggy night…

Eternal Tick-Tocks

2009-11-20T10:54:00.000-08:00

Tick-Tock.
Hypnotized.

Not by this beautiful November night, with its stars above the sky.
Not by this freezing cold, peacefully trembling fingers.
Not by people, who walk and walk, going no where.
Not by myself, again looking around, unsure.

It's the time again!
It's the clock again!
Damn it!
Still passing vigorously.
Not just on the metro stations,
But in day and night, warm and cold, crowd and solitude,
and in me, as long as I accept to be one of everyone.

Tick-Tock.
Hypnotized ?

Who knows? Maybe…
But now my wrist is empty, I guess I dropped my watch.

(Photographed in 'Kapalı Çarşı', influenced by the book of Richard Bach: Illusions)

A written faith or just coincidences?

2009-11-19T13:41:00.000-08:00

Sitting on the grass, with a cat... It looks at me as I could give all my warmth, all my smiling face. I don't know whether the cat aware of the fact that I don't have those too, I also tremble. It needs care, it wants love. Like everyone else, like anyone else.

Then I laughed unconciously. The cat looked at me blankly. I laughed because It made me smile that I was there, at 18:30, in the middle of this little park, under this -for many people dark but for me full of stars- beautiful sky, as the only person who can just give a little hug to that cat and change its future.

"We" I thought. We play on a big stage in a great show. We create stories. We create the characters. We make ourselves the main character in those stories. We are the ones who can change this 'written' story whenever we want to. But we don't just choose to change, 'cause it looks dangerous, isn't it?

Do I like this continuing theatre show? I guess I am. But still I believe I am a soul not a guinea pig.