Category Archives: Poetry

“minds, contaminated”

minds, contaminated*

female virginity
eternal purity 
its lack: the primary taboo
before during after matrimony

timeless obsession
ageless restrain
tireless phobia

true loves chained
vibrant lives ruined

oh, my sweet home country
depossess your manhood already
conceive your women in whole
remember the wisdom they wore
countless centuries before

see the substance beyond the frame
stop being a fool of inordinate fame
make yourself a new name
the bodies are never the ones to blame

~ * ~

*A poem from my first poetry book, Trance, a collection of poetry in English, German, and Turkish (published by Inner Child Press, December 12, 2013)

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“Undressed”

Undressed

The fragile soul had never been undressed to this ultimate extent. Back then, she had decided to be a once-only lover. She should have known all along not to attempt such a fatal risk. Still, she does not regret being left this bare. Nor does she resent the one for whom she had stripped herself of expectations, guilt, fault, and blame.

The yet-innermost turbulence trashed her apart many a time. A violent slash tore her into a blindness of the temporary kind. The ego cast guilt, fault and blame on the other. But it also dared to expect. Not even massive masses of tears mended the scars. Nor did they suffice to revive the spirit from its raging death. The fragile soul had against all odds resolved to pace steadfastly its torturous path.

From the beloved then, she borrowed a new breath to ensure an absolute stillness of the heart. She tried in vain to regain her courage toward a gate that is opened ajar at best. She sought peace and salvation from the lover’s final request: not to expect, nor to blame; not to assign fault, nor to designate guilt . . .  just to be dead.

*From my latest book of prose poetry, Letter-Poems from a Beloved

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A New Poem

disillusioned . . .

you must have faced a savage opposition
fanaticism ran deep also in your beloved country
your 1990 Nobel Prize for peace speaks for itself
you have overcome obstacles during your presidency

i often wonder these days
if your birth into the life of regular people
– not with a silver spoon in your mouth,
as we say here in the good ol’ US of A,
was what molded into the essence of you
your non-exclusive dedication to humanity,
to your people’s well-being and sanity

the entire world is now under the threat of a deadly virus
some countries’ leaders have taken – ever so swiftly –
effective measures to control its wide-reaching spread
among their populace – affectionately, all-inclusively –
everyone in every nation today needs such leadership direly
yet several self-serving holders of a seat of high command
go about their own business while they continue to demand
that we bow down, keep silent, and accept what is at risk,
not persist with our questioning
and not insist on our rights
which we are too close to losing
with a hastened move of the leading hand’s swing

oh, how welcomed it would be to have a peace icon like you
if only we could rise above these dark times – all intact –
as if reaching to touch a sky of hues in azure blue

disillusioned?
oh, yes, i am,
about the good i believed that was all-embracing-ly true

(c) hülya n. yılmaz, August 15, 2020

This poem is one of my three submissions that will appear in the September 2020 issue of The Year of the Poet, published by Inner Child International. The year 2020 has been designated to Nobel Peace Prize recipients. September’s focus was Michail Sergeyevich Gorbachev.

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A Previously Posted Poem

exhaling ills at their worst . . .

with your arrival, dear newborn innocence,
inkpots uncovered the fading verse;
quills dipped into their dazzling universe,
and brought to life phenomenal instants
that had been sought out eternally

you helped reminisce and reflect,
showed once again how to hear, touch, smell and see;
but also to taste and to sense,
then, to forever inhale the newly dawned breath

exhaling ills at their worst . . .

© hülya n. yılmaz

 

 

 

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A Poem for Dark Times

problem-free

a new day is dawning tenderly
on rainbow-hued and ocean-scented sheets

the laughter of countless infants
appears on mouthwatering breakfast trays

our screen-free window is always wide open
it invites in the freshly-breeding families of house wrens
their united eyes watch their yet-to-be-hatched eggs
tap dance on cue – uninhibited and carefree
the matured ones chant the elating news the wind brings
amid a gentlest breeze – putting all worries at ease
the resulting love-songs taste like chilled lemonade
on a day of a hottest summer’s blaze

the world has just been declared a problem-free zone

 

This poem with which I had contributed to the 2020 international anthology, The Heart of a Poet, Words for a Better Tomorrow was published on July 7, 2020 by Inner Child Press International.

 

 

 

 

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A Prose-Poem on Audio and as Text

Without Ether

I believe the records date back to the early eleventh century. You would know, my love, as we have also shared our profession. The patients would be seized for an extended procession. To the bloody altar, they would be slowly lowered down. They would begin to drown in the agony of their pain. With a swift gash, their appendix, liver or one of the intestines would appear in its carnage glory. The spectators’ eyes would revel in their gory inventory.

Can you see now, my beloved, how it had felt at the time of my alive-autopsied end?

~ ~ ~
From my latest book, Letter-Poems from a Beloved (prose poetry), available at Inner Child Press International and at Amazon.com

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A Prose-Poem on Audio and as Text

I Do!

Do you ever reminisce about our sensation? I do! I had lain on the emerald ground, unwrapping myself in the softness of your scent . . . alongside the compassionate creek of our first encounter . . . cradled by the rays of the afternoon sun.

Do you ever look back on the tiny ripples anew? I do! They had slowed down to honor our euphoric reunion. Witnessing our fiery souls flow into one another, learning and approving.

The wind envied our harmonious spread, and assembled its brutal forces. Thus came the abrupt end. Like a lightning. Fiercely brash.

I had kept my delicate “i” at bay, hoping for you not to float on. I have since pampered, re-dressed and preserved the ‘what ifs’ of our oft-resounding dread. They insist on haunting me yet. My old self thus is entangled in a merciless no-exit-thread.

Would you have possibly favored me instead, had I opted to defy the boulder at the barricade?

~ ~ ~
From my latest book, Letter-Poems from a Beloved (prose poetry), available at Inner Child Press International and at Amazon.com

 

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A Prose-Poem on Audio and as Text

After You

Have you ever eaten helva, my love . . . accompanied by the sizzle of the slowly melting butter – anxious in its wait to savor each sugar flake, while the aroma of the browning flour oozes into your delightful breath, and milk drops – raptured in a dance of a most delicate blend, craving the urge to taste the ultimate feast?

Have you ever made helva, my love, when its core ingredients were scarcely found?

 

* Helva is a traditional Turkish dessert; a sweet dish that is said to have originated in the Middle East and Central and South Asia.

 

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Luxuries, 8 (A HAIKU on Audio and as Text)

A Luxury

the soul’s sufferings
a heavyweight agony
where is the laughter?

(c) hülya n. yılmaz, April 23, 2020

Bir Lüks

ruhun azapları
ızdırap, ağır bir yük
gülmeler nerede?

Türkçe’ye Çeviri: hülya n. yılmaz, 23 Nisan, 2020

Ein Luxus

die leidenschaften der seele
ein schweres gewicht, die qual
wo sind die gelächter?

Übersetzung ins Deutsche: hülya n. yılmaz, April 23, 2020

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Luxuries, 7 (A HAIKU on Audio and as Text)

A Luxury

no differences
mortality unites us
a virus did it

hülya n. yılmaz, April 2, 2020

(In Turkish translation)

Bir Lüks, 20

hiç bir fark yok
ölümcül olmada biriz
bir virüs yaptı bunu

Türkçe’ye Çeviri: hülya n. yılmaz, 2 Nisan 2020

(In German translation)

Ein Luxus, 20

kein einziger unterschied mehr
eins sind wir in unserer sterblichkeit
ein virus hat’s geschafft

Übersetzung ins Deutsche: hülya n. yılmaz, April 2, 2020

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