|
I
and myself on a road
resilient
as skin
I come from every house
altering
the tedious words
The straight line
of
destiny
Runs through all of us
we
are all its ushers
I am the people
I
am nothing
The
same funerals run
through
all of us
Fire
Heavens
hacked down
on stricken
stones
Ferreting
flames
haunt
my face
Put an end
to mind
thought
and curiosity
Deep in the ground
lies
my groundless breath
Pilgrim
How
many galaxies stretch
between
these petals and these pilgrim eyes
yet
distance can enhance the shrine of an absence
Here
all colours live in ghettos
servants
and acolytes of dankest altars
We are only
prolific in ignorance
our
every move smells of dead-ends
We are all
short-listed
in
the heart of the headsman
But
surely we can think
of
better ways
of
saying farewell
Time
Removed
from all covers under the sun
this
book moves towards darkness
time
always, the victim
I
am the only one who's not sinning
yet
the flesh unaware, goes on decaying
in
steady working blackout
Killing
one man is equal
to
killing all man
the
seasons behave differently
Wealth
There
is a hell
in
there, drifting parts of us
barking
in pain
clutching
disqualified layers
of
sleep
In here,
ceaseless souls
and
a rose are in mourning
always
there is one but only one
hammering
question in our voice
Whose
wealth is this dirt on our hands?
Final
Greeting
My time
has come
sure-footed
patient
at every crossroad
saluting
my burial ground
Yours respectfully
|
I
am in front of demolished walls
shaking
the nights, gathering
the
eyes of history
I
am the one singled out
to
cultivate the well-tolled field
of
exile
I
am asked to feed
the
magnetic north to empty words
we
must know where we stand
Game
Death
you
are a game
I
play at nights
I
lead you into day
like
a child
so
let us respect each other
Psalms
I said to the almond tree " Speak to me of God."
And the
almond tree blossomed.
God
speaks
Whoever
seeks me finds me,
Whoever
finds me knows me,
Whoever knows me loves me,
Whoever loves me, I love,
Whomsoever
I love, I kill.
Sidna
Ali the Muslim
(9th century)
I am at your door
hold
tight my deep
dedicated
hands
Fertile dust shielded my face
and
in your presence
I
cast off all my innate garments
I am the broken bones
of
the faces on reserved spaces
remaking
them endlessly
2
Leave
me alone, keep to yourself
your
human rights, your judgement and sentences
martian
friends, you are the architects
of
this mass grave under my feet
oh brother of every death that clings and wakes
to
my body
I know no mystical cure for nightmares
I
must carry horizons in front of my very eyes
printing
with my every step on earth
the
marching alphabet of love, and struggle
3
I want to stop this thing
this
way of changing sins into manners
simply
to evade detection and seizure
Broken
waters flow under broken bridges
every
momentum is degraded
brotherhood
roams the deserts of insanity
Now
I have come back to collect in my heart
the
pains of things covered by ugly landscapes
I
have come back to bear the brunt of redemption
E-mail:
mevlutceylan@yahoo.co.uk
Date:
Thu, 2 May 2002
|