Gunsel DJEMAL

Looking great is easy when the soil remembers me. But the scepticism you see — that’s the gaze of a Cypriot, trained by borders, silences, and promises that never arrive. Even in a smile,

Good morning (for my husband Attila Elüstün) I set the clock Turn off the lights Do not sleep or dream Lie down in bed Move your fingers around in the past They tell more than they

I will write you deaf poems You're dumb because... Günsel Djemal 23/08/2017

Where I live is downhill takes me to two-hill Southbank I shake stagger and roll they took me from that Island they said they were going to make me free infinite like stars then they put

It has been two millennia Since the son of Mary Jesus's Crucifixion Why? Hasn’t one hell of a crazy person taken his arms down Günsel Djemal Elüstün 23.08.2015

South East London Art Rooms created an event. 27 October at 18:02 · 20 NOV 2015 FEAR A night of Spoken word a music and song dedicated to the nightmares that lurk in the shadows of our

carefully you concealed at violent nights letters capsized yellow flower petals are dull inside the pale book we were caught to the cough of the day break from the rusty dialogue’s to the

you walk away from the country you were born for good Home land multiplies in your heart. Günsel Djemal Elüstün 17.09.2015

good morning good morning to you, too I guess you’re no awake yet It’s not as easy as you think perhaps coffee’ is the best revenue let's drink together how do you take it Nescafe I don’t

İ fili mou Apostolina and I always talking about the same thing searching our childhood digging with a shovel in the Mesaoria plain the occupation history has passed in between the

At my sea days my dreams were after the waves when did you cry and laughed such as the mulberry tree in the garden it’s branches in the Sun how many times you were broken/remained

The barricades of this country should be left alone Lips closed like letter envelopes At each passage from it’s doors The sea should flow from the reverse Died from caesarean section's and

The words are far away now your fear remains secluded in the evening Where do the shadows go discourse They stole my hands My pen was assassin Houses were crippled falls compassion (in)

bury my joy into the playground my folk songs on the brink of suicide do not pay attention you old city walls so long ago we have left at every roadblock known unidentified and familiar

to my Dreams weeping women would come drawn in black and white pencil the bullet sounds were mixing with the sirens crying door being convicted as the contrary prisoners women, mothers

I Cypriot prone to be angry, tend to be rebellion When I'm gone from you I am at the first place calls by our tongue's astonished our lips it were the order of the

There are smiles we find the blues behind the laughter melancholy. Günsel Djemal Elüstün 29/10/2014

Post card refuses to bleed return to sender 40 years of longing no address. Günsel Djemal Elüstün 28/10/2014

A stance of a letter The meaning of East and West How should I teach you? This language The skin of the sea is marble Known and even the language of the unknown laws Whatever I write Is

How crazy painted things In the wall of every city, on the bus Will be forgotten, no poets have sung There Wrapped in shrouds They were… I am not going to mourn Until my turn comes The wind

I see you child in the news I feel the blood in your hair / ... I smell the smoke of the treacherous bullets I found hard to believe The world doesn't see that you were dead I read it in

No lightning will hit No hell fire will consume Profound relief floods me Why suffer? Aren’t we humans? Sometimes happy, sometimes bitter We live and we die No one is included I have no