on Oceania

entitled, 1

does the name “Cook” James Cook
as in Captain James Cook that is
sound familiar to you?

no, you say?
how can that be!

he has a monument in his name you see
for the monumental service he has done in 1774
he proudly did vandalize torture butcher and colonize
the natives of Vanuatu Islands of 500 BCE
and whitened them ever so graciously with a new name

The New Hebrides . . .

you get it of course

there was nothing “new” about the host-land
up until that year ambushed it mercilessly
then . . . there were no more
the same as they were before

the white legacy . . .

isn’t it just grand?

entitled, 2

Kudos to the British!
they worked also 19th century
to their advantage
they took home the bounty
yet once again

the poor unknowing Spanish!

a rushed glimpse of the islands
did not suffice to make them stay

Alas!

they thus failed to discover
the land’s richness in phosphate
mined by the islanders
profits fed-exed to the Commonwealth

entitled, 3

there once was an island called “Nauru”
1,400 people lived on it in peace
they spoke their native tongue
they had their native culture
phosphate was in abundance . . .

the year was 1843 then
45 years later
only 900 survived
together with their phosphate

their language and culture?

out the window they went . . .

© hülya n. yılmaz, June 14, 2018

[Published by Inner Child Press International in the July issue of the fifth volume of The Year of the Poet]

 

 

 

 

2 Comments

Filed under Poetry

. . .

20180913_104131.jpg

[Photo Credit: Self; on the road from Skopje to Strumica, Macedonia ~ Summer of 2018]

still in disbelief
these eyes have seen such wonders
silence spoke loudly

© hülya n. yılmaz, 10.13.2018

2 Comments

Filed under Reflections

“Where Are You Now?”

41_hikmet_hires-flat

[Nâzım Hikmet ~ Free Online Image]

i miss the untainted i inside you
you caressed my birth
into your bosom
i laid down my many beloveds
my mother’s unforgettable touch
my father’s sacrificial feel
my uncles’ pain-soothing embraces
my granddaddy’s gentlest laughter
my Yasemin’s exceptional beauty
are for me no more
you have taken them all
for my brother
whom i utterly adore
i live no more

you have changed from the core

so many famed traversed through your terrains
they left their bountiful legacy with you
i now understand as to why
Nâzım Hikmet would cry
in his prison cell for too long of a while
even your enviable age-old landscape
of his countless sleepless nights’ saving grace
is recognizable no more

you have changed from the core

today
i feel
as if
i grew up
in a fairy tale

“Once upon a time”
you were to me
a mesmerizing spell
everything in between
had also its magical charm
“And they lived happily ever after”
however
oh my sweet Turkey
has been nothing but a pathetic lie

in your case . . .

i cannot help but still be
after a desperate chase
to honor my memories of you
al
though

you have changed from the core

© hülya n. yılmaz, 10.13.2018

 

4 Comments

Filed under Poetry

. . .

USED BEFORE BUT.Babamin kucaginda ben.Yas 3.Babama gore 2.

[In memory of my father, Dr. Salih Yılmaz, who loved me loudly but held my hands quietly ~ 1926-2016]

at the crack of dawn
like you have been many times
deep slumber no more

© hülya n. yılmaz, 10.13.2018

 

 

3 Comments

Filed under Reflections

“a secret life story”

a secret life story

seriously?

it’s impossible for our live-records to stay unknown
even long after our skeletons’ offspring has outgrown
their offspring’s sketches donning the ruins of the land
there will always be a soul to give our grim tale a hand

has it not been so throughout the timeline of humanity
when will we begin to see this nightmare in full clarity
what more does it take to note the accomplished wrongs
why vow to look faraway while they parade in throngs

seriously?

what kind of a delete-button did in your testimonies
you surely had some rational and trustworthy cronies
it cannot be that so little of you has been left behind
or was prenatally the multitude of your bands twined

you were after all the inhabitants of Southwest-U.S.A.
also of Mexico in its North and synchronized i daresay
what you achieved between 10,000 and 40,000 years
some of us would submit to just to forsake our sad tears

© hülya n. yılmaz, May 14, 2018

[Published by Inner Child Press International in the June issue of the fifth volume of The Year of the Poet]

6 Comments

Filed under Poetry

. . .

11079659_10153219946689711_2308223597785260993_n

[Photo Credit: Erol Erguen; Location: Celle, Germany]
In memory of Dr. Mahmut O. Erguen (1932-2015), my oldest maternal uncle who loved me unconditionally

the boat on the Nile
had a passerby aside
if only you came

© hülya n. yılmaz, 10.13.2018

Leave a comment

Filed under Reflections

“nomads”

so, very little is known about your lives
is the professional claim in our times
the so-called “modern-day” jest
won’t be as stingy about us i suspect
we surely must self-glorify in retrospect

i don’t doubt what’s said about you today
when i look at our conditions in dismay
the continent you were “among the first”
to inhabitate is yelped to be the only greatest
just when i darn the nth rave then comes the latest

your surviving ancestors may 9,000 years later
discover or make for this laughing stock a grater
for it direly needs the ultimate fine-tuning of all times
our predicament should after all not stay as a secret
maybe they can distill this pickle oh so terribly acrid

you were a wandering and gathering lot i heard
we on the other hand are an incessantly scattering herd
you clothed yourselves with the skin of your hunt
and eaten plants to stay alive while we go the other way
we are the meals and nature are soon to meet its d-day

© hülya n. yılmaz, May 14, 2018

[Published by Inner Child Press International in the June issue of the fifth volume of The Year of the Poet]

1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

. . .

Our place of accommodations

[Photo Credit: Self; Venice, Italy ~ Summer of 2006]

would you like my child
for us to go back in time
and sail through trials

© hülya n. yılmaz, 10.13.2018

3 Comments

Filed under Reflections

“inventions, discoveries and donations”

inventions

too many of us are offended
become demoralized and uneasy
when we are reminded of “the other”
of “its” masteries, in particular
while we keep on indulging
in “its” stellar gifts to “the self”

dissatisfaction

impatience
dejection

blame the aware few . . .

why stir up history
as it was written
as it is taught
for “the self”
by “the self”

why pull the brakes ever
of our speeding time-shuttle
to acknowledge “the other” at last
with “its” long-overdue recognition
contemplating thus our own human blood

God forbid!

if we so did . . .

we then might realize
for a passing moment at least
how abundantly the “self” benefited
for centuries not for a mere several years
from “the other” and “its” still-shedding labor-tears . . .

discoveries

our lives would not have been the same
had the “other” not invented or discovered
nor had left intact for the misuse by “the self”
“its” surname bleeding still
taken from “its” sweat and blood
together with all else that to this day does remain

donations

un-written . . .

yes

the subject is Sumerians
of Ancient Mesopotamia
“the cradle of civilization”

how often do we come across
the oft-cited term to belong
to a lobbying cultural entity
as if it were for it to own

no surprises there!

another always seems to bear
the highest octave to raise
so it gets the praise
our history books bear witness

yet those writes
suffer from a mono-lithic lens
thus we reserve the honor
for one or the other
as long as it is not

by no means!

“the other”

furthermore

we cheer from the sidelines
turning into a music buff of some sort

though we know
deep down we know

blame the aware few . . .

why alter a make-belief
a working bed-time story
with all its esteemed fake glory

the invention of
Agriculture
intact with its Plow
and System of Irrigation
the Wheel
the Chariot
the Sailboat
the System of Time
the Concept of Astrology
as well as that of Astronomy
the Map
Mathematics
Urbanization
the Cuneiform
the First Form of Writing

yes

the First Form of Writing

but . . .

our history books
continue to claim
Nay! Oh, nay!
The Sumerians?
Of Ancient Mesopotamia?
The Cradle of Civilization?
Nay!
No way!

. . .

feel free to fill in the blanks
with names that are yet to make the ranks
out of the abyss of intentional omission
for their past and present donation
after all should that not be our mission

unless of course we seek our due commission

blame the aware few . . .

© hülya n. yılmaz, April 18, 2018

[Published by Inner Child Press International in the May issue of the fifth volume of The Year of the Poet]

2 Comments

Filed under Poetry

. . .

1145-chicago-usa-trees

[Photo Credit: Self; Location: State College, PA ~ Fall of 2017]

clouds tear up sighing
children no longer playful
what did we create

© hülya n. yılmaz, 10.13.2018

 

 

2 Comments

Filed under Reflections