EVERYTHING SHOULD BE UNDER THE SUN...
NO New Nuclear Weapons... NO New Nuclear Targets... NO New Pretexts For Nuclear War... NO Nuclear Testing...
NO Star Wars... NO Weapons In Space...
NO All Types Of Weapons, War & War Culture...
We have only one WORLD yet! If we destroy it, where else will we go?

Cycle Of Survival, The World Itself,
Bad Merchantilist & Harmonized Din


New Poems & Photos by Ugur AKINCI

 


Cycle Of Survival


Enduring the iron-cold winter
Required a certain level of pandering
To rumors of easy flight to blue islands
Lace curtains billowing in balmy winds
Orange fingers of sun combing through lazy mornings.

Breeding habits of despair received a notice
Of loan consolidation and bankruptcy at the same time
We refinanced sorrow and ate to lose weight
Then we moved on.

We made money and got corrupt for sure
We lost some and spoiled a bit more
Devil flossed his teeth with our fear
Times were nuts and short for theory.

We survived hiding in sweaty basements
Days blurring into a calculation
We said we won't leave no comrades behind
But it wasn't a war it was a meltdown.

One more winter before turning around
Lest we get to where we wanted to hide
Hold your steel steady partner
This ship with designer holes we ride.

When the heart rises like a mountain
You can see the world -- if all alone
Welcome and make your self at home
And make sure to leave when love is gone.

Enduring the hot summer ahead
Will need a certain level of pandering
To rumors of an iron-cold winter
And a cycle that knows our name.

 


The World Itself


Denying nothing
Makes a bad resume
But sometimes it's a must.

Cacti prick the sun
A hand dials a number
Countdown waits a signature
Twenty eight lines up patiently
Behind twenty seven
Always.

A bridge misses the water
A tuft of hair in a locket
Tire marks in mud
A swallow follows the snow
A click in the hammer
Trembles the trap
A monitor blinks red
And springs stretch suddenly !
Muscles listen...
Ages into seconds
Bing Crosby into Bee Bop
Elvis into Hip Hop
Trains slam across the land
Dressed in diesel perfume
A woman remembers her husband Stan
And those summers in Cape Cod
A mirror falls on a mirror.

The world doesn't need us
To comb her hair.

A cloud moves
Not to deny the wind.
Becoming the world
Is not a job offer.

This commercial that went wrong
This child with asthma
This bleeding feast
Wrap it in your heart
And sing it as loud as you can.

That's all you can do
Always.



Bad Merchantilist


Talking to you is my gene therapy
A kiss is every moment I've ever lived
Cloned.

Mercantilist love wants everything back with a profit
Squeezing honey out of a fossilized lemon.

With you I'm always broke.


Harmonized Din


I guess I'm somebody's favorite child
The way I have these goose bumps
Still
At the first notes of "Orange Blossom Special."

Truth is a public discussion
What I'm feeling right now
Is more like a private confession.

Rephrasing a storm
Just before the curtain
Gigawatt humiliation.

Laminated postures crack
Carbonized sin yellows
Daymare of troubles
Comes free with
Peroxide times and
Pulverized discounts.

My face is turned to China
Sun sits hard on my sternum.
The world whips up a bargain
But faith is a friend
Drives hope like a dragon.

Nothing is a must from the get go
Nothing is certain
It's all circumstantial gumbo
Cooked up precision.

A reverse angle catches a famous historian
Posing with a beach towel, sunshades and sandals
In front of a mushroom cloud.

I guess I did better than that.

Every cowboy with a six-shooter
Is a star divided by an Indian.



Copyright 2003, Poems & Photos by Ugur AKINCI

E-mail: ugurakinci@aol.com
   
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