Miserable

picture: Butterfly Apple by Vladimir Kush

 

Miserable  

That’s what she needed today:

Feeling miserable.

Reminding herself all the things that weren’t going right,

Felt just so right.

She needed to go low,

So low that her soul would hurt.

That excruciating pain in her heart,

That nothing can change a thing set of mind,

That...

That was what she needed today.

Feeling miserable,

She had to torture herself to reach her core

As true happiness lied within.

 Beril 11/4/15

Grew on me

Glasses. Edinburgh. 26.02.12

Grew on me

It wasn't over night.

It took days, weeks and months.

Every day you gained a bit more of my trust.

You made me open up to you, gently.

One day I let you in,

Then you grew on me.

You became a part of me,

I became yours and yours only.

No day was routine;

Nothing compared to being in your arms

Which made me cry from happiness.

I gave up myself to you;

I fell madly in love.

Then you left

Without letting me out of your heart

Or leaving mine;

Hoping we'd grow apart.

You never created an empty space.

To day, still, you are in me.

Only pain, only pain is what I have;

I know because you taught me.

I miss you, think of you from time to time.

I imagine of getting back into you

Or letting you out of me, forever.

Who knows which will happen first.

One thing I know: Life is not a fantasy.

No day is routine;

Nothing lasts forever;

And anything can happen,

Back to back, simultaneously or even

Never ever.

Beril 02/03/14

Hello Baby

The song that inspired me to write again...

"Waiting for the miracle" by Leonard Cohen

 

 

Hello baby

I want you back but you know already.

I loved you with all my heart.

How much it's aching or how much broken

It is, won’t lessen it no more.

You are the one I love and I adore.

I long for you.

I am at the same spot

Wondering: will the miracle come?

So long we have been apart.

So much waste of our time.

I wait but are you long gone?

They say do not think but believe.

I have lost my faith along the way.

They say dream but do not get lost.

I have nightmares and I cry instead.

I see now nothing compares.

Nothing is left to do

But to hope and sometimes pray.

And I wish, oh I do a lot of wishing, too.

That’s all that I can do and all I do.

I hope you will come through.

Beril 16/09/13

The music cd

Tonight makes me cry to your picture

And the note you left under my pillow.

"Tonight we are young" and I know

You'd carry me home from to-night.

You are beautiful, so we are.

I can't "leave that all behind."

Your smile burnt to my mind

"Makes me wanna" "dance, dance, dance."

If tonight seems distant to us

I don't need to close my eyes.

It's all too vivid, a second ago

I've seen you, I smell you, alright.

Tonight we've "got stories to tell"

"So please, please, please"

Let's "come together", don't dare leave

If at all is meant to be, you with me.

Beril 22/03/12

Love's on hold

It's growing without control, knocking out everything it meets here and there. Nothing can stay on its way. It is inside-out: it is coming out from every orifice, every look. Touching all around, it's not a heart; it's round because it's reaching equally to every corner, tangent to me and you. Then I come along and hit pause. Love's on hold; you ask why. I'm afraid it may explode, I say, but you think it's o.k. I can't risk it; it may hurt. You want to hurt as it's sweet. I'm still at whatif's; I can't lose you. I pray. I love you. Though, you love me too so you hit play. And then I love you some more.

Beril 2/1/12

You and Eye

photo: Islid by Damien Share

You and Eye

At night, I close my eyes and eye see you.

It lies on my chest, touches my lips and fingers.

Time after time, I dream your eyes and eye see you.

It wakes me up when we entwine and I kiss good night.

With day light, my eyes open wide and eye see you.

It lolls under my pillow, safe and sound, well preserved.

After a while, eyes closed or wide, eye only see you.

It sleeps with mine since you -your smell's been fading.

After all, never mind us: you, eye and the distance.

As long as, they're together every second: our t-shirts.

Beril 27/09/11-03/10/11

Leaves

picture: Autumn Leaves Collage from forestfoliage.com

Leaves

She leaves the house for a walk.
Her mind is in the clouds; is abroad.
Following the footpath her gaze is fixed on the leaves she steps on and the feelings she has cannot explain the polymorphic shapes or the assorted colour or the brittle sound thereof.
She wanders off into another Universe thinking of the green leaves and how she feels whenever she leaves.
Melting inside and out, her eyes looking into another World, she runs into a bush and her touch is burnt by its leaves.
The pain awakens her and she retracts her hand; squeezing it with the other she puts her fingers into her mouth.
The sensation from suckling relieves her physical pain and she turns back into her deep thoughts, hurting.
The limits this World embodies wounds her heart and she wants to hide within her where imagination illuminates the path.
She stumbles on a twig but balances herself quickly; she’s always been on her two feet making it snowball’s chance in hell to hide out.
Pensively, she leaves the woods and returns home watching the joyful run of her dog aside.
At least or at last – she doesn’t know which- she is grateful for the leaves and for whatever it is that she’s got.

Beril

18/09/11

Infatuation

picture: "The ship" by Salvador Dali. 1942-43.

Infatuation

It was a night when

The wind blew a ship,

Rocking it side to side,

Like the sea hitting rocks

They were torn apart.

It was a night when

The moon's been a fool,

Trees stood tall in dark

And the stars in the sky,

Why shine yet be so far?

It was a night when

The islands called it off

Eyes closed dreaming on

They didn't say goodbye

And then they moved on.

Beril 12/08/11

Note: A 4 day research revealed that the picture I have in my mind when I think of this poem does not exist at this point in time. So, I chose a surreal painting from one of my favourite artists, Salvador Dali. It may not reflect the scenery depicted in the poem but it sure does point out the equivocalness of “a ship”.

Getting Ready

picture: Getting ready by Ganev Smallwood

Getting Ready

She was feeling exhausted. It had been a long week and many more were waiting for her but she had already promised. As usual, she had to keep it. She could never cancel. Now she had to get ready.

She jumped into shower; let her body hydrate and steam. She creamed and groomed. Looking at herself in the mirror she wondered: Was her belly flat tonight?

The battle began.
Black or colour? Black. That belly wasn’t flat.
Skirt or pants? Pants. Her ass was fine looking tonight.
Heels or flats? Heels. Why would she ever ask that!
Comfortable heels – do they exist? She believed so – or sexy heels? Comfy it is. It could be a long night.
Fitting top or loose top? Loose top. She wasn’t feeling fit enough.
Cleavage or no cleavage? Cleavage. She wanted the attention.
Short sleeve or long sleeve? Short sleeve. She never liked long ones but that meant she had to cover those arms and a black bolero was the saviour of the night. Who wouldn’t like long and thin-looking arms?

It was time to make up make-up.
First tool to use is the foundation. She smoothed her skin tone and covered her spots.
Next she had to decide: Was it a red-lipstick night? No. She was planning to drink tonight.
She lined her eyes, used a dark eye shadow and mascara, a touch of pink blush and a shiny lip gloss
and she was all made up.

Accessories complete the look. She was dressed simple; a necklace was a must.
No dangling earrings are allowed with necklace! Plain pearls would be just fine.
Changed the watch to a fancy one; wore an elegant bracelet on the right arm; picked a neutral coloured purse – small and easy to carry around
and she was almost done.

She checked the weather. It was rainy and windy. Typical.
Long coat or short coat? Short coat. She had to show that ass.
She chose a scarf, grabbed her umbrella and double checked her bag:
Phone – check.
Wallet – check.
Lipstick – check.
Oyster card – check.
Keys- keys? Keys? Aha. Check.

Then she rushed off. It never mattered whether she was late. She always rushed.
With the sound of her heels banging on concrete; with the smell of her perfume mixing into wind; with the look in her eyes expressing an amalgam of feelings; with the touch of her figure shadowing the streets,
she tasted sweet.

Beril 24/04/11

Right?

You make mistakes. What a routine. You will get it Right, am I right? Rules, exceptions, Tales and stories Confusing you, What do you think? You play it hard Then sit back, watch. You play it good Then you skrew up. You want it here Then can’t just stay. You want by heart Then it breaks up. No matter, what A happy ending? No matter what You don’t fit in. Right? Am I right?

Beril 09/04/11

World is circle

picture: The blue marble by NASA

World is circle

“Leave” he said.

“There is no there there”¹ she replied.

How could there be a there

When there was never here?

“Then stay” he said.

“Here is not here!” she replied.

How could here be still here

When here never got there?

With all the madness in the world

No choice was reasonable.

So he said: “Circle”.

And she nutated.

Beril 10/02/11

[1]Gertrude Stein. "Everybody’s Autobiography".

A year to roll like a dice

Picture: man rolling the dice

With high hopes we stepped on a year that was supposed to be ten and zen.
Instead the world shook with earthquakes, 222,570 died in Tahiti, only.
Eyjafjallajokull burst out with hate, impacting travel, economy and health.
Monsoon flooded Pakistan; land and people submerged forlornly.
Many in Russia smoked the ashes for weeks, not of cigarettes but that of trees.
Heavy blizzards killed many homeless; some even paralyzed hopes for Christmas.

Despair turning moments to a decade, we are about to count up another year.
The countdown of sorrow has sunken deep in us; who can see the lights of future?
How but wow: we pray, we wish and we believe, oh still!
So let us drink for a new year to roll like a dice; for a new chance with every throw down.
Let us still hope in 2011.

Beril 27/12/10

Eureka!

picture: Andy Warhol by Ben Heine

The bareness that is spreading within,
Ingesting whatever’s presented from being...

The inability of worlds to illuminate the gloom
Of the dark fissure guzzling the source of thrust...

The indefinite destination of a journey consuming
Its passenger in a circle – the unit of origin...

The repercussions becoming worthless...
The worthlessness a concern...
The concern extraneous...

Conclusion is simple:
It just hurts.

Beril 12-27/11/10

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Nomad

sculpture: Nomad by Jaume Plensa

Nomad

At home, lying in bed.

“I want to go home.”
Evdesin ya, uzanıyorsun.
“I want to go home.”
Peki. Evin nerede?
“I don’t belong anywhere.”
Hiç bir şehre, hiç bir kimseye mi?
“Cities are full of people. I’m empty.”
Ne yaptılar sana böyle?
“They pulled me. They tore me apart.”
Parçalara mı bölündün?
“Many. Many pieces spread all around.”
Tekrar bir araya getirebilir misin?
“If some weren’t lost...”
Hiç bir şey kaybolmaz, sadece yer değiştirir.
“Miss-place. Hmm. That sounds about right.”

Tell me. What would you do with a leftover heart?

Beril

24/10/10

That feeling

I’m looking for something
I don’t know what it is
My mind tries hard
What is it? Oh what is it?

I wake up after midnight
Look at the street lamps across
Try to remember it
What was it? Oh what was it?

That feeling I have
As if I’ve forgotten to do something
That feeling I have
As if I’m half, I’m missing.

I skim through my folders
Hoping for a hidden signal
My heart beats by prying
What is it? Oh what is it?

I open up a new tab
It’s not on side bar or history
I stare at empty page thinking
What was it? Oh what was it?

That feeling I have
As if I’ve forgotten to do something
That feeling I have
As if I’m half, I’m missing.

Beril

09/09/10

Transparent

I'm transparent

Inside in and inside out

True colors visible through.

I'm transparent

No one can stay in

Step in and go through.

I'm transparent

Because I leave

I'm transient and you're through.

Beril 22/08/10

User’s manual to Mind

Meishin, the Mind Cage by Thomas Gianni

Introduction to Mind
Plentiful and miscellaneous,
Gifted and perilous
Mind is powerful and glorious
Read through this user’s manual
And you might learn “e-How to” mind.

Section I: Analyzing mind
The smell of cherry blossoms
Generates the sense of admiration
Only then when its beauty
Is analyzed by the studious mind.

Section II: Learning mind
Constant sensory information
Processed by somatotopic regions
Takes its place in hippocampus
To be used, reformed, reused.

Section III: Dreaming mind
Never ending dreams are a way
Of making sense of what one has learnt;
What one saw today becomes a spot
That could be a butterfly or a moth.

Section IV: Loving mind
His pheromones, her chemoreceptors
Are only the beginning to the wildest dreams;
It triggers stirring and passionate love
That seems to guide poor judgment of heart.

Section V: Creative mind
Stimulated, curious, restless mind
And touched by the angel of love
Seemingly goes beyond the limits
But only feeds off of unknown.

Section VI: Amnesiac mind
Good things won’t last long;
Mind living on edge will lose;
Unrecovered data is a sign;
Some things are better left alone.

Section VII: Melancholic mind
Antagonist to the tears of laugh,
Its bitterness is as sweet as love;
A state between dream and knight
Tears you apart with careless joy.

Section VIII: Under the influence mind
Amplification of joy or sadness
Comes with the flow of an unbalanced madness;
The best way to misrepresent one’s intention’s
Under the influence of lost self-control.

Section IX: Obsessive mind
Merely one word, one feeling, one object
Becomes one’s reality in the twisted mind,
Gradually desensitizing, becoming oblivious
To the possessiveness of a growing doubt.

Section X: Angry mind
The limits expand under strong emotions;
One’s capabilities are now one’s abilities.
Responding to fight rather than flight,
One destroys the OuT-tHERe minds.

Section XI: Destructive mind
Punching walls or smashing windows
Will not let it out; it’s trapped in the mind.
Cannibalistic, vicious and despaired cycle
Needs a second shoulder to break down.

Section XII: Sick mind
Talented bare hands on a collar, choking with bliss;
Balls of eyes, reddened, popping out of their socket;
The muffled voice of a half gulp and stray breath
Followed by death; all minds combine with a brutal zest.

Endnote to Mind
A balance is the key to proper function;
Good won’t exist without the awful.
Your weaknesses don’t tell who you are;
They shift the balance of “your” mind.
Though, you can always change your mind
As long as you care and say: “ever mind”.

Beril
17/6/10-01/8/10

Hope

Hope II by Gustav Klimt, 1907/8

"Whoever wants to know something about me -- as an artist, the only notable thing -- ought to look carefully at my pictures and try to see in them what I am and what I want to do."Klimt

Hope

I’m waiting for something that will never come.
The hope is keeping me from giving up.
I know I make too much out of thoughts.

I always pursue what I’m told I can’t have.
The hope is keeping me from giving up.
I know I'm stubborn, maybe even competent.

I’m mourning the absence of an imagined loss.
The hope is keeping me from giving up.
I know I enjoy wandering off in hopeless mind.

Beril, 25/05/10

Ltertes & Lvoe

picture:"Love" sculpture in NY by Robert Indiana.

imss. I was confused.
issm. Buried thoughts.
isms. No song put to rest.
sism. No book was spot on.
sims. No movie played it right.
smis. And ltertes were misplaced.
smsi. So, I tried all the combinations.
ssmi. Lterte to letter and lvoe to love.
ssim. I thought I would be relieved.
mssi. Once I found the right order.
msis. I was mislaid; as I still do.
miss. The search is not over.

Beril 24/05/10

It's not you it's me

All this time here I thought
Love's left my premises, abandoned me
Turns out "it's not you it's me"
Whose forgotten you: to love.
Beril 18/05/10

picture from Lamya Gargash, United Arab Emirates National Pavillion, Venice Biennale 2009