“Daddy”

Daddy

in the tongue i learned from you and Mommy . . .

kaç kere gördüm kendimi
o kaşığı ve çorba tasını tutarken titrek ellerimle
her seferinde senin beni
kah tam tanır kah başkasıyla karıştırır
ama o bana hep sevgiyle bakan
öpüp koklayan okşayan
senden aldığım renkteki
anlayış şefkat dolu gözlerin üzerimde
Hülişim! Nasılsın kızım?
hayatının belki de en zor o gününün akşamında
nasıl oldu da diyebildim ki ben sana
“Sakın gelme baba!
İnan, ikimiz de perişan oluruz sonra.”
tamam sen hastaydın hem de epeyce
çoğumuzun ruhu duymuyorken
yaşlanmıştın çok hem de pek çok
her sevenimizin bildiği o keskin hafızan
artık değildi bize en yakın dün kadar
bana gelince . . .

tamam
kronik hastalığımdan edinmişim bir yoldaş
beni hiç bir zaman eski halime bırakmayacak
tamam
kendim ancak kendime yetebilen
ruhen bedenen madden
olsun!
ne olduysa olsun!
ne olursa olsun!

nasıl oldu da çıkabildi ağzımdan
o upuzun yoluna ta okyanus üzerinden
nankörlükle yoldaşlaşan
telefonumun o buz gibi ahizesine
sana doğru yola çıkan
o kalbimden silinesi kahrolası sözlerim?
senin nefesini duyabilen
iyice çökmüş ciğerlerinin
neredeyse üzerinde deri kalmamış
bedeninin üstündeki aciz iniş çıkışları gören
her bir hemşireye nasıl imrendim ah bir bilsen!
hele ki sana yemeğini verene
hem sana her gün bakarken hem de arkandan . . .
ne zihnim ne de kalbim
bana rahat nefes aldırmaz oldu
aldırmayacak da canım babam
hele ki ağabeyim senin o son resmini
bana gönderdiğinden beri

ölesiye üzgünüm hala Babacığım

beni affet ne olursun!
seni çok sevdim hep
hep seviyorum
seveceğim de hep
ne de olsa hala
senin her zamanki „Hüliş“inim ben
sana kendi son nefesine kadar minnettar
sana minikliğinden beri yolunu hiç şaşırmadan
hayran mı hayran „Hüliş“in

in the tongue of another . . .

how many times have i imagined myself
holding that spoon and the soup-bowl
caressing your occasionally cognizant
but mostly unaware eyes
seeing in me someone else
your eyes that always glowed
with love, compassion, understanding,
and forgiving me, giving me hugs
in warmest soul-comforting kisses
those My Daddy-eyes
which gifted mine
with their hazel-color

Hülişim! How are you, my girl?
. . .

how could i possibly utter those words
in the night of your most-troubled day?
Don’t come over, baba.
Believe me, we will
Both be miserable.

true

you were seriously ill

true

your mental you-ness
was declining so fast

true
your routinely sharp and expansive memory
famed among all our beloveds
was no longer intact

true
my by now-loyal for life-companion
that chronic physical dis-ease
would not even for a second
leave my side
true
i barely was enough
for my own self
psychologically
physically
financially
still!

how could i utter those cursed self-cursing curse-able
     words?
those damn-able haunting ungrateful words?
words that frivolously escaped my heart
and seeped through my iced-up receiver
on to their troubled self-troubling path
all the way over the ocean
to those My Daddy-eyes
. . .

i wish you knew, Babişim
how i envied then and after you passed
each one of your nurses who was there for you
who heard your faint yet still-breathing breaths
who saw how under your barely there-skin
your lungs still pumped their instinctive air faintly

i covet still today
in times of my grave despair
that one particular nurse
the one who is busy beaming happily
while she is feeding you your soup

as the photograph of you
has related succinctly to me
the second to last photo that is
the one that my brother sent to me
neither my mind nor my heart
lets me take a guilt-free breath anymore
i am so sorry, canım Babam!
please forgive me!

i have always loved you

i love you today

i will love you every day
i am after all still your “Hüliş”
the one who has always been
your unwavering devoted admirer

i am in eternal gratitude for you
a fact that will never ever sway
even then when my last breath
is finally on its way

From: this and that, published on January 5, 2019 by Inner Child Press International

4 Comments

Filed under Poetry

4 responses to ““Daddy”

  1. “i am in eternal gratitude for you
    a fact that will never ever sway
    even then when my last breath
    is finally on its way”

    This should be said every morning and every evening.
    Never too late to start today before it’s too late.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. thank you for sharing such intimate experiences with we, the readers . . . you have exposed the tenderest of self in your verse. A courage many of us do not possess, but it is to be admired as we each strive to make our words more meaningful and poignant . . . thank you again for being the model.

    Liked by 1 person

    • As usual, I am very late in my reply. My apologies! That “self” has been “tender” for so long and so much that it had to be “exposed”. Thank you for embracing the authenticity in my poem.

      Like

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