Archive for 06/11/2014

Alone Again by Charles Bukowski

I think of each of
them
living somewhere else
sitting somewhere else
standing somewhere else
sleeping somewhere else
or maybe feeding a
child
or
reading a
newspaper or screaming
at their
new man…

but thankfully
my female past
(for me)
has concluded
peacefully.

yet most others seem to
believe that a
new relationship will certainly
work.

that the last one
was simply the
error of
choosing a bad
mate.

just
bad taste
bad luck
bad fate.

and then there are some who
believe that old
relationships can be
revived and made new
again.

but please
if you feel that way
don’t phone
don’t write
don’t arrive

and meanwhile,
don’t feel bruised because this
poem will last much
longer than we
did.

it deserves to:
you see
its strength is
that it seeks
no
mate at
all.

You Are A Must For Me by Attila Ilhan

You are a must for me; you never know
that your name is like a nail riveting my brain
I see your eyes as ever-expanding dimensions.
You are a must for me; you never know
that I burn within, at the thought of you?

Trees prepare themselves for autumn;
can this city be that old Istanbul?
Now clouds disintegrate in the darkness
as the street lights flicker
and over pavements, it is the smell of rain
You are a must for me, yet you are absent …

Love sometimes is an outrageous fear.
A man tires suddenly at nightfall,
of living enslaved to the razor at his neck.
Sometimes his passion wrings his hands,
expunging other lives from his existence.
Sometimes whichever door he knocks
behind him, it is the whistle of wicked silence of loneliness.

A screechy phonograph is playing in Fatih …
a song about some Friday long ago.
I would listen it all from a vacant corner,
I would bring you an untouched sky.
Weeks disintegrates in my hands.
Whatever I do, whatever I hold on to, wherever I go,
you are a must for me, yet you are absent …

Perhaps you are the blue dotted child in June
Ah, no one knows you, no one knows!
A freighter leaks from your deserted eyes…
perhaps you are boarding in Yesilkoy?
You are drenched there, shivering with the rain
Perhaps you are blind, beset, ravished,
Wind is disheveling your hair.

Whenever I think of a life,
at this wolves’ table, maybe hard
shameless, yet without soiling our hands …
Whenever I think of a life,
I begin with your name, defying the silence,
and your secret tides surge within me
No, it wouldn’t happen in other ways
You are a must for me; you never know..