Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Lonely children


Children are born,
Lonely children of the earth,
Following a light full of pain..
Oh, how easy it would be,
To walk without going anywhere,...
Step away and rest a little..
Children become grown,
Up and down,
Up and down,
Fearing of the light in pain,
As strong as not to cry,
But no more, not any more..
In the witness of a sad song,
"People hearing without listening",
Children of yesterday,
Lonely children of the earth..

Saturday, September 10, 2016

Mr. Frodo Baggins


"Life" is an interesting stage, Mr. Frodo Baggins:

When the actions, that people call magic, become a part of the daily routine; and when the stands, that looks like incredible, become a usual of "here and now", it leaves a small space for excitement that is in fact so big, that nothing and no one seem to be able to fill it in..

And then, yet again, the "play" surprises you with the next act, when the curtain opens slowly: An elegant flow with the light as bright as the sunshine starts to roll. Even when the eyes get used to the bright shine, the act on the stage remains excitingly beautiful..

"Life" is an interesting stage, Mr. Frodo Baggins:

The next act is about to begin. Please don't forget to turn off your mobiles. Because it will be one of a kind of a play..

Saturday, July 9, 2016

Everyday of life


It is like the everyday of life,
Every single walk to be taken,
The eye opening curiosity,
The ticklish feeling of willingness,
The anxiety of the next step,...
The warm excitement of the unknown,
Along the chilly fear of the "what if"..
As simple and small
As the baby cat on the water lily pad,
As big as the world around;
It is like the every day of life,
Every single walk to be taken..

Thursday, May 19, 2016

Far away

Uzaklarda gözlerin,
Ama o bildiğin uzaklardan değil,
Alıp da başını bir trenin vagonuna atlayıp,
Hani pervasızca herşeyi bir kenara bırakıp,
Öylece gidebileceğin..

Uzaklarda ellerin,
Ama o bildiğin uzaklardan değil,
Özledikçe hıçkıra hıçkıra ağlaya,
Ağlaya gözlerini şişireceğin,
Ve sonunda yine de gülümseyip,
Hani ukalaca “o da öyle bir zamandı,
Öylece geldi geçti” diyebileceğin..

Uzaklarımdasın sen benim,
Ama o bildiğin uzaklardan değil,
İçine düştükçe kavuşmak arzusu,
Yollara vurup adımlarını,
Hani hiç yaşanmamışcasına dönebileceğin;
Gözlerin kadar yakın olsa da gözlerim..

--

Far away are your eyes,
But not the far away that you know,
Where you could just jump to a train wagon from,
Leaving everything aside carelessly,
Just to go like that..

Far away are your hands,
But not the far away you know,
Where you would cry missing,
Would cry out your eyes,
And at the end still would smile,
Would arrogantly say "it was just a time like that,
Just came and gone"..

Far away are you from me,
But not the far away that you know,
Whenever the desire of return falls in,
Where you could put down your steps,
To return as if hasn't ever happened;
Even if your eyes would be as close as to mine..


Thursday, March 17, 2016

Time

..

And the time comes when you drive yourself away from everything and everyone along the friendship of your dashboard lights.. Norah Jones tries to convince you with her soft voice touching your ears intimately..

You don't give up driving away; yet, it is not the only thing you don't give up on; everything and everyone that you carry within your thoughts too; within you, intimately..


..

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Coupling

Coupling - Season 1 Episode 4 - Inferno:


"I like naked women! I'm a bloke! I'm supposed to like them; we're born like that! We like naked women as soon as we're pulled out of one! Halfway down the birth canal we're already enjoying the view! Look, it is the four pillars of the male heterosexual psyche. We like naked women, stockings, lesbians, and Sean Connery best as James Bond. Because that is what being a boy is, and if you don't like it, darling, join a film collective. Look, I want to spend the rest of my life with the woman at the end of that table there, but that does not stop me from wanting to see several thousand more naked bottoms before I die, because that's what being a bloke is! When man invented fire, he didn't say, "Hey, let's cook!" He said, "Great! Now we can see naked bottoms in the dark!" As soon as Caxton invented the printing press, we were using it to make pictures of - hey! - naked bottoms! We've turned the internet into an enormous international database of... naked bottoms! So, you see, the story of male achievement through the ages, feeble though it may have been, has been the story of our struggle to get a better look at your bottoms."

Friday, December 18, 2015

Seyirci II

"After your afternoon love makings, if there is not even one lighthouse in your with care created gardens to spot a light to the storms breaking in yourself, then the time passing by will ruin you even if you comfort your life with fake smiles.. The life that you would like to keep away from your known memories eats your minutes like a time worm. What is left over to you on the witnessing of the happenings is actually yourself, who you want to stage on behalf of your doings far away from your fights. Your optimistic minutes that you wasted with the passion to “selfishness" and you.. The truths that you always stayed away knowing that you couldn't stand the shock, if you would admit it to yourself.. Your hopes that will not leave you to your loneliness even if you want, your chaos, your complexity; your being used to loyalties full of love and you.. The way you explain yourself with the words you don't know where to use and afterwards, your giving up from yourself like nothing happened and you.. Your reproach to the man writing these words, like they are not from you; and your hopeless shadow showing up on the light behind the paper walls that you actually built from your reproaches and you.. would I say these, you would be so willing to go away from these pages, I know.. You are hiding.. Your arrivals to home, from the long and tiring, boring and bored roads that you used to and full of your hate; and while you are on those roads, from roads that you prison hundreds of more adjectives in your mind, somehow never make you happy. After all the harbors that you didn't bind your happiness to; especially while there are dark and cold storms breaking in yourself so much, it doesn't effect you that you don't bind the most fearful place of your life to the roads. And on top of these, the noises and known fights, at home where the getting harder to bear roads are ending; in your sun smelling room where you spread your worlds into each corner, your not being willing to do's and not being able to do's; the you that is squeezed after all your "et cetera"s.. again, you.. I am talking about you. The you, that you actually know very well. The you that you are trying to freshly get to know with every doings of yours and the you that you give up in every thought of failure of yours.. I am explaining you. I am explaining you, who would do the things in the name of human kind kids, for them, even if you wouldn't do it for yourself or don't do it even if you would; and struggle for it; you who doesn't give up on this only. Even if you don't believe me, even if you don't believe in yourself.. I miss you. Once with your being like a fresh and dynamic, un-frayed and clean baby in the mornings of the days far away from shines, you are being a stranger tome and many others who has to fight with you to make you feel the love, even if you don't believe in yourself and that you are being loved.. Everybody is right for themselves, everything is right with the assurance of the trust given by the perfectiveness. So familiar this view seems to you, who knows better than anyone the days that he goes through. This is the view that you have lived through, have seen when you have lived, have gotten bored when you have seen, and have gotten bored of seeing when you have lived. The days, that has to end somewhere; that you said somewhere will end, will stay in a corner of your life like your observer-ness, as far as you stay as an observer to them.. You have to give up with your stubbornness, you have sacrifice from your fake happinesses. You have to face the you who is hiding behind these words; you have to teach yourself to make him live.. before it is too late.." 


"Yorgun akşamüstü sevişmelerinin ardından, içinde kopan fırtınalara ışık tutacak tek bir deniz feneri bile yoksa o özenle yarattığın bahçelerinde; geçen zaman yazık eder sana, sen sahte gülücüklerle avutsan da yaşamını.. Bir zaman kurdu gibi kemirir dakikalarını bildik anılardan uzak tutmaya çabaladığın yaşam. Olup bitenlerin şahitliğinde sana kalan, aslında kavgalarından uzak yapmışlıklarında sahneye koyduğun sensindir. “Bencillik” tutkusuyla harcadığın iyimser dakikaların ve sen.. Kendine itiraf etsen, yaşayacağın şoka dayanamayacağını bildiğinden, hep uzak durduğun gerçeklerin.. Seni yalnızlığına, sen istesen de bırakmayacak umutların, karmaşan, karmaşıklığın; sevgi dolu bağlılıklara alışmışlığın ve sen... Nerede kullanıldığını bilmediğin sözlerle kendini anlatışın ve ardından, hiçbir şey olmamışcasına kendinden vazgeçişin ve sen.. Tüm bunları yazan adama, bunlar senden değilmişcesine sitemlerin ve aslında sitemlerinden ördüğün kağıttan duvarların ardındaki ışıktan beliren çaresiz gölgen ve sen.. dersem, çekip gitmeye can atarsın bu sayfalardan, bilirim.. Saklanıyorsun.. Uzun ve yorgun, sıkıcı ve bıkkın, alışılmış ve nefretinle dolu yollardan ve sen bu yollardayken, daha yüzlerce sıfatı aklında hapsettiğin yollardan eve varışların bir türlü mutlu etmez seni. Mutluluğunu bağlamadığın onca sakin limanın ardından; hele bir de içinde karanlık ve soğuk fırtınalar esiyorken bunca, gidip de yaşamının en korkak yerini yollara bağlamayışın da dokunmaz sana zaten. Bir de üstüne üstlük, o katlanılması sana gittikçe imkansızlaşan yolların son bulduğu yerde, evinde; kendince dünyalarını her bir köşesine serpiştirdiğin güneş kokulu, bir o kadar da güneşten uzak odanda seni bekleyen o hep bildik kavgaların ve gürültü, yapmak isteyişlerin ve yapamayışların ve vesairelerin ardında sıkışıp kalan yine sen.. yine sen.. Senden söz ediyorum. Senin de aslında çok iyi bildiğin senden. Senin de her yaptığınla yeni baştan tanımaya çalıştığın ve her başarısızlık düşüncende vazgeçtiğin senden.. Seni anlatıyorum. Kendi için yapmayacağı ve yapacak olsa da yapmadığı her şeyi, insanoğlu çocukları adına, onlar için yapan, bunun için çabalayan, bir bundan vazgeçemeyen seni anlatıyorum sana. Bir o kadar bana inanmasan da, bir o kadar kendine inanmasan da.. Seni özlüyorum. Bir zamanlar günlerin ışıltıdan uzak sabahlarında, taze ve dinamik, yıpratılmamış ve tertemiz bir bebek gibi oluşunla seni özletiyorsun bana, kendine ve seni sevdiğine inanmasan da, sevgiyi sana hissettirmek için seninle savaşmak zorunda kalan onca insana.. Herkes kendince haklı, her şey olup bitmişliğinin verdiği güvenle doğru bu günlerde. Öylesine tanıdık geliyor ki bu manzara yaşadığın günleri herkesten iyi bilen sana. Her yaşadığın, yaşadıkça gördüğün, gördükçe yaşamaktan sıkıldığın, yaşadıkça görmekten bıktığın manzaradır bu aslında. Bir yerlerde bitmesi gerekir; bir yerlerde sonu gelir dediğin günler, aslında sen onlara böyle seyirci kaldıkça, sen seyirciliğin gibi kalacaklar yaşamının bir köşesinde.. Vazgeçmelisin inadından, feda etmelisin yalancı mutluluklarından. Tüm bu sözlerin ardında saklanan seni artık önüne koyup, onu yaşatmayı öğretmelisin kendine.. çok geç olmadan.."