A glass of tea;tobacco; the moon
seagulls are flying over Galata Tower
A cat wriggles under the table
The distant light of lamps
The whirr of winnowing grain in the beak of a pigeon
The
Dreamt Lena in my window
Heavily laden she ignited the curtains
I woke up
Then saw the bad news
She has lost her granddad
I have lost my uncle
My auntie lost her husband
I have seen from my
It doesn’t show coyness
When you are leaving take a look!
Your eye lashes are curtains
Basil is wet
You are crying already
Cry…
As the Mediterranean is heaving
Filling and as filling
Your
I'm messing up with my right and left
On my chest fluttering birds
Not out of spite....
I am burnig one of those long cigarettes
Insomnia is my companion...
Is boat similar to the rope?
I love
I was a very bright kid (I was painting beautiful pictures, and playing the melodica and the accordion and the pianno) they said "you can be anything but don't be a teacher".
English is the dark
The door we hide behind
In the dark lunar
emotions lie
funky and
shy
before being caught
vibrating bodies
like fresh-cut flowers
breathes life
reaches to the
honey yellow
petals of
How did these rare years passed on
daily survival and work…
is keeping us away from each other
barbed wires are buried in fog
abbreviated transitions at every barricade
we spent numbered days
Stealing the time
in the backyard
in between scarlet oak trees
leaking moonlight
of all the pain, pleasure, thinking
to whisper everything
whisper less…
endlessly flowing sands
the
I stay awake till morning
Timid eyes are coffee grounds
From the temple of the seas
I am watching while you are sleep
I love you
Without nuzzle on to your bosom
Without touching your sleep
I
Tonight my husband I went for a walk melancholy ın the air, a well-dressed middle-aged man probably he was going to help someone for the unpleasant news he had received. He was anxious and shy
You are my village
I have drained tears
I left my mother with you
I want to go
When we say go…
Immigration comes to mind
We used to climb to the roof without a ladder
Faster than a hawk
My
Hello it’s Abi
Sorry my phone’s been cut off. I’ve been through a tunnel.
Hello it’s Abigail and the surname is HASSAN, is this Annabel could you put me through again.
My
At the south east of the city
The words are sawn minutely
At the peak of the iceberg
While enjoying the sunrise...
Evenings are under the city lights
The smell of basil hurls from the
A Syrian child
Has fallen into my dream
Between seven or eight years old
With his emerald green eyes
Staring at the free flying dove
Yet the drunken American soldiers
Disgusting breath did
The wars are ugly and leave scars, our peace is also ugly leave many scars. Maybe it’s as the media and money making journalism. There’s no difference.
The World is at War Dance…
For (!) friends
Certaily in all your friends there will be enemies, you should not forget that in all those enemies your buddy will stabb you from the back.
Your friends
In Tayyip’s language how do you write death?
Life was laughing at us. Like a toothless man.
Why tear gas, toma’s and batons?
At Yüksek Kaldırım somebody has hanged somebodies life on
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Time: 19:00 until 23:00
[Description]
Join us for short readings from contributors
A guest reading from David Harsent
http://davidharsent.com/
You left your diminishing eyes into a quarter droplets
Was it the collapsing salt pain inside?
The forsaken should be the other half
Deep darkened sigh was poured from within
This sighs/was it
I am hurting words
For the offended letters that do not fit into the lines
On the top floor awake crying neighbour's baby
Snow is hitting the window glass
The wind is thrown on roof
The Symphony of Poverty
Tonight...broken glass
Is poured
From the cords of the guitar
Who knows
What who wants
No one is dancing here
Anymore
Travels are hazardous
Also theirs
Ears are