Monday, May 30, 2016

Mark July 18th

“Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back.
Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.” ─Plato

Poetry is merely not only words written on a sheet of paper, in books or anywhere else but also clouds of feelings forming in heart and mind and ready to split out at anytime, anywhere and everywhere.
It has been raining in my world, too,before even my birth and I fell for words and with words and now I understand that I am for poetry and poetry is for me. Poetry has been my safe haven and best companion and I write to retrieve a part of me pecked.
You’ve probably been seeing hashtag #markjuly18th and wondered what it is all about, what will happen on July 18th, and so on.
In order for my poems to be archived, on July 18th I will self-publish my first poetry book in form of e-book. My book will be titled Heart a Poet Cannot tell and will consist a collection of my hundred best poems,few of which are published on my blog while others (a large pile of them) are not published anywhere else apart from my journals and of course on my heart (reading it will exactly be as penetrating in my heart, in my life, and in my feelings by how I tried to polish them with words and looking the surroundings through my eyes).
I titled it that way because I believe that there is nothing really a poet can’t tell, and when I found one, I thought it was worth treasuring in a book for generations to come.
I hope you will love it as much as I do and will allow me to know what your thoughts will be about it. Therefore, please mark July 18th, 2016 on your calendars so you won’t forget.
I can’t put it in words how excited and eager I am to share my lifetime dream with you.

Saturday, May 28, 2016

Millions and Uncountable

relationships do not last
or love simply does not exist
at all
when I think of it
every call to attempt
déjà vu
I keep looping about
back and forth,
just like that
round in spiral
I'm going to die immortal

in every breath swallowed
molecules of you are millions and
like stars of the ocean
I wake up with passion
every morning
and die of keenness
omitting some pages
at night
when I dream about you
time jumps to two

Saturday, May 21, 2016

Canvas of Heavens

In an empty room, nakedness on walls
I stand staring out of the sky and the doors
No sun’s in sight
To brighten the night

By closing the eyes I see not nothing but a figure
Drawn on a canvas of heavens I picture
Given are praises
Risen aren't praises

Walking alone through the time and the past
I and my mind are not aware of what happened at last
Missed is sleeping
Felt is another thing

I keep myself on track of life I’m not living
Like a painter with painting, I am with writing
Felt is something
Known is nothing

I do not write in my journal or about my hobbies
Instead on walls with no clothes on their bodies
But I love to write
What I cannot split

Saturday, May 14, 2016

Throwing Stones To the Stars

We forget sleeping
at innocent nights
throwing stones to the stars
oh, how did I miss but not life
they fall back down
to us
we hold them firm
in our palms
reciting our hearts
in songs
moon gazes in our favor
young and beautiful
than ever
she, smiling
I, dying
in her grasp
I sip to life

Saturday, May 7, 2016


steps so brief
time to crossing
waits on pedal point
point of staying
depends on stable pacing
arms in air whirl
silence dies
before being heard