. . .

in the blink of an eye we say

everything can end

clear or a blend

images run

with no intent to stay

survivors do talk

as i did and do

but i am beyond grateful

so i also walk the walk . . .


in the aftermath of a serious car accident

(c) hülya n. yılmaz, 7.18.2018


Filed under Impulses


love was the guest of honor
it outshone the burning sun
the light of each soul glowed
the embrace was immense
warm kind giving and sweet

yet my blood family had passed away long ago

how ignorant of me
to think love’s eternal gift
had left me once and for all
the exceptional family i carry love-genes from
the precious one that walks on Earth with mine
the unconditional one friends pour into my soul
have always been there while i mourned

love was the guest of honor
it outshone the burning sun
the light of each soul glowed
the embrace was immense
warm kind giving and sweet

and i began an incredible journey
among my beloved’s family

how could i not

love was the guest of honor
it outshone the burning sun
the light of each soul glowed
the embrace was immense
warm kind giving and sweet
© hülya n. yılmaz, 7.15.2018


Filed under Poetry, Reflections

. . .

wenn auch du so scheinst im leben
als gelte ausser liebe nichts
bleibt ewig dein atem-ende
ohne sich zu verderben
denn dein erstes licht der liebe
laesst sich nie versterben

© hülya n. yılmaz, 7.7.2018

If you indeed shine in life
As if nothing else but love matters,
Your final breath will last forever
And it will not be tainted.
For your primeval light of love
Will never allow it to die.

Translation © hülya n. yılmaz, 7.8.2018

Eğer ki ışıdıysan hayatta içten
dışında hiçbir anlam yokmuşçasına
ebedi kalır en son
özünü yitirmemesine
aşk ışığın çünkü
asla bırakmaz
kendini ölüme

Translation © hülya n. yılmaz, 7.8.2018




Filed under Impulses

. . . are we “remembering too much”?

“Throw everything away, forget about it all! You are learning too much, remembering too much, trying too hard . . . relax a little bit, give life a chance to flow its own way, unassisted by your mind and effort. Stop directing the river’s flow.” ~ Mooji


Image Credit (Biya River in the Altai Republic)


Filed under Reflections

. . .

you were on foreign soil
Mom chose not to hurt you there
then the day of your arrival came . . .
i saw your soul’s sorrow for the first time

i still see you in my heart’s eyes
through the parents-room left ajar
how hard you cried sobbing all along
what i thought to have lasted for too long

Dad i now know more than ever before
what it means to have our fortress gone
i am after all on a desert void of any oasis to come . . .



Filed under Reflections

in mid-air

flowers . . .
in a bouquet of colors
freshly rain-showered

indoor plants . . .
showing of their well-earned drops of sweat
in their temporary home, the wild outdoors

one bird-seed-tower . . .
a multi-flat avian-condo
emptied before it dangles on its shepherd hook

the other feeder . . .
a villa compared to its safely distant neighbor
ready to cater a larger-than-ever-squirrel convention

a chipmunk . . .
re-arranging the patio furniture
sending out disapproving looks

a broken ground-light . . .
waiting to be glued to health
having taken the Gorilla Glue as its mate

the non-smoker-worthy ashtray . . .
cuddled up with a Citronella bucket
enchanted by the lure of a cozy tryst

last year’s garden art . . .
each piece as vibrant as it was then

the old loyal Bistro set . . .
trapped in its primal space
vying for one more breath
taking on a growingly greener tint in plain sight
right before this summer’s seats’ snubbing eyes

blah blah blah
enough already!
all is cool and dandy
but i need the bowl of candy
unless she moves out and abound
my sweets will eat chat and frolick around
hungrier by the second is my family
this woman is surely an anomaly!
she’d better hand over
at least the cottony bunny to me
if she doesn’t i will forever be her archenemy

© The Hawk of Happy Valley
c/o hülya n yılmaz, June 27, 2018




Filed under Poetry, Reflections

. . .

BABAM.2016.Tıbbi Bakım Evi Odası

[Photo Credit: Süleyman Yılmaz, my brother; Ankara, Turkey 2016]

wishing for revolving doors

door #1

you sound different
not like your usual self
confused sad in despair?

then comes your desperate plea
after hearing which i choose to flee

i’ve decided, my girl
i’m coming to stay with you

how could i be so indifferent!

door #2

i see through the mundane
i not only hear but i also listen
i sense something is just not right
i can almost touch and feel your plight

of course, Dad!

© hülya n yılmaz, June 24, 2018



Filed under Reflections