Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Glittering dimness

I've been known for standing still 
in the crowd long enough to draw its sounds,
get lost. 

He's been known for going places,
talking to strangers, sunflowers, bridges
getting lost.

For some time we kept a trail of stars 
pinned to the sky like crumbs
pointing the way home.

Monday, April 6, 2015


Don't be cast down
in a strong impression of fondness
toward another living human
you become aware of
based only on your


Don't fall in love
you just

Written for A to Z Challenge using an OuLiPo technique called Definitional Lit 

Sunday, April 5, 2015


When I was a child
I lived in this neighborhood where
trees produced caterpillars 
instead of leaves and boys would 
chase screaming girls around for hours 
holding them on sticks,
trap them in bottles sometimes,
sometimes inject them with fluids,
locate and open cocoons
until learning in science class
they were the biggest predators
of butterflies.

Day 3 of A to Z Challenge, a little bit late but here. 

Saturday, April 4, 2015

In this one life

On the night we were introduced
you came out of the shadows supposed as a surprise,
but we were sure to have met before
and that it might have been in another life.

In this one life you skipped classes to see me,
I was grounded for a month
for letting you sleep over while my parents were out of town.
In this one life you were my best friend,
we nearly kissed. Twice.
In this one life it was your choice to part,
it was your choice to stay away.

I kept saying your name for years because
I didn't want to lose it, because I would always
be able to use the letters like coordinates to the memories.
Your leaving ruined me for the human experience.

Written for the PAD Challenge, today we were asked to write about departures, there are a few departures it was hard for me to  get over, this was one of them

Friday, April 3, 2015


Dear God
I heard we choose
our own pains,
let me not be
an extension of my errs,
I've always been careful enough
not to break anything.

I mend my fences,
close my eyes tight,
write my feelings out in full,
fuel an unusual courage.

Ask me again
what I wanted to be
when I grew up.
I wouldn't say lonely.

Both Fireblossom's NaPoWrimo prompt over at the Imaginary Garden and Cuyahoga County Public Library's were about music. Though being recently involved in a musical project, I couldn't be less musical, I suck at writing lyrics (Fireblossom's challenge) and my musical taste is quite peculiar. I've been listening to a lot of The Books lately, they make extraordinary, exotic music that is very calming to me and always returns me to my self. 

Thursday, April 2, 2015

Bow tie

I wanted to disappear,
but I'll tell anyone how naive I was
instead and
hope to be forgiven.

You fall between my fingers
like a handful of sand.

You climb a big wall of cumulus
and this time I can't follow you.

I cried my way into sleep the first night,
but not once I blamed God
for the helplessness.

Say present unreal conditionals.
Say punch in the stomach.
Say getting used to it.

I put on serenity and pink lipstick,
go over the memories you
wanted me to have.

Some days there is an old song
playing in my head.

Some days I still wish you could
see inside my lungs.

To live in this world

Growing up
we had twelve addresses,
anyone would have
taken us for nomads.

Every place, every person
we knew and loved,
was left behind again and again,
all to be resumed time after time.

Home was separation, wholeness.
Food was the basic understanding
that nothing was ours to keep,
that all things are transient.

The title is a line from Mary Oliver's poem In Blackwater Woods which I  really adore.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015


Isn't it curious that
your mother called you
brave heart while mine
named me after a mountain
in eastern Africa?

That I was meant as
God's resting place,
but it was from you
I learned peace?

(Day 1 of A to Z Challenge. My A has always been for Alper, the first man to see my soul. The poem plays with the meanings of our names)


My soul still resided
an old coffee can
inside a cabinet in
the Euphrates Valley
when he found me,
a broken genie repeating
the Hereafter would be 
better for me and
trying hard to believe it.
He told me it was okay
to take the lid off sometimes
and come up to the surface
to breathe.

Written for Magaly Guerrero's NaPoWriMo prompt over at the Imaginary Garden. I first thought I could write poetry after reading Turkish poet Orhan Veli Kanık's poem 'Dream' (you can read it here). Kanık is one of the founders of the Garip Movement, which broke with the conventional style of Turkish poetry and literature between the years 1945-1950 by using vernacular speech and surrealist elements in poems. The italicized line of the poem is a reference to Quran 93:1-4.