annual death of
3.1 million children overlooked
overeating self
© hülya n. yılmaz, 4.2.2017
“the breakwater”
foaming from the mouth
the waves drench the sky
it bows down in respect
drops itself closer
de-powered helpless useless
seeking refuge atop the breakwater
anything human-made then gets its turn…
nature’s offsprings
graceful untethered
are enwrapped
in a dance step
we’ll never learn
a duckling
looks out of place at first
but holds sway with ease
over Lake Erie’s vast space
naturally it will find its own kind
i however just sit here and mope behind
©hülya n. yılmaz, 3.9.2017
Filed under Poetry, Reflections
“Kazaçok”, we called it…
thinking of mom again
my routinely composed beloved
she is too beautiful not to be so
my in-love dad would say…
a no harm-intended frame of mind
the most vicious version of it though
has been ruling over women
in a tragically fallen Turkey today
dancing the Kozachok
on the beach-road of Erdek late one night
my brother
back in the bungalow
deep asleep
i on the other hand
back then an utterly free essence
in eager applauses
too big for my yet-to-grow hands
exalting to my heart’s content
the no-curfew-months of all summers
ever so ecstatic of my standing ovation
the sea
ahhh
the back-then spectacular sea
with all of her well-aged
head over the heel for her-trees intact
was too admiring mom’s graceful frame
keeping the slightest breeze
in a grip ever so tight
with not even one ripple in sight
lest mom’s step would miss
not even one ripple in sight?
oh this is nothing!
i surely did exaggerate
adorably manipulate
reality a little bit
way back when
mom seemed to me
as if she was caught inside a trawl
willingly laughingly uninhibitedly
living only by being
i cannot remember another moment
when she had let herself just be…
© hülya n. yılmaz, 3.14.2017
Filed under Reflections
. . .
less windy today
baby waves attempt their own mighty roar
give the onlookers an eyeful of a tireless show
then gallop in fanciful grown-up pride and hit the shore
©hülya n. yılmaz, 3.9.2017
Inside my car; front line; at the harbor on East Lake Road in Westfield, NY
Filed under Impulses
“you are my weakness”
i mean no offense
the only one
allowed to destroy my vip for life
carving out salivating annihilating
all that i believed my core stood for
i mean no offense
the only one
allowed to mislead the virgin in me
i had since birth been treasuring
inside this rapidly aged and aging body
i mean no offense
the only one
allowed to trash my inborn naiveté
cherished not merely a summer or a winter
but for four seasons arriving each year one by one
i mean no offense
the only one
allowed to put me on hold
time and time again
on and on…and on
with hope-robbed mercilessly grueling
heart-to-mind mind-to-heart lectures
having me wait on call in infinite shifts
none of those cruel hours reaching an end
then to make known
i’m sorry you are not worth
to alter life for
what on earth for
i mean no offense
the only one
to come to my defense
erecting back the pieces
from their deepest depth
was
. . .
no not you my unforgettable first love
no not you my youth’s handsomest nth suitor
no not you my unfortunate partner in marriage
no not you my last gentlest purest love
i mean no offense
. . .
you on the other hand
yes you the one and only self
are my weakness at its worst
and my strength at its best
you are finally caressed
in the same tenderest way
i tirelessly tended to my lovers
having given you frivolously away
you are loved the same at last
©hülya n. yılmaz, 2.1.2017
Filed under Poetry, Reflections
. . .
once in your absentia long time ago
i was let in on your sigh-rich utterance mom
from decades past
of your post-delivery moments
how your whispery voice
hovered over my first breaths
oh my unfortunate girl…
why
i will never learn
© hülya n. yılmaz, 3.14.2017
Filed under Impulses
Silence amid “Severe Weather” alerts
For the last couple of days, I have spent priceless moments with Gulls, ducks, Squalls, euphoric waves of Lake Erie, thick-sand-fly arounds, snow-storm-wannabes, icicle-touch-like misty air, a scalp-biting cold, the indecisive Sun, the Hide-and-Seek-Moon and we-prefer-to stay-dry-stars. Amid a mesmerizing collection of exquisite flavors of human interaction to sate the most selective heart, offered by complete strangers.
None of what I say above is make-believe. I have been on one of my yearly short trips to my most precious destination: Silence. Of the familiar. To better hear what is resonating, unearthing, asking, even singing and dancing outside…
Having just come back, with my body’s endurance being what it is, I will leave my favorite life source now and seek some physical rest -away from my desk. There is so much more, though, that I would absolutely love to share with you. About this traveling endeavor and on other matters involving us all. So, I will be back. I hope you will too.
Filed under Reflections
. . .
. . . still going through labor pains . . . how about you?
“You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star.” ~ Nietzsche
Filed under Impulses
“a wind chime”
it’s man-made
true
a wind chime that is
who argues
but it stirs to life
at nature’s each whisper
i’ve been swept off of my feet
in my child-self-dances like this
the teenage-spirit’s will to play
hushed itself under social etiquette
then i was made to forget
only in dainty slices of the night
do i achieve silence these days
this one though is much desired
three-wishes-kind-of-a genie-attired
i let my meant-to-be-self flow
she inhales the universe in one go
one step-mime at a time
for she at last is in her prime
in the presence of a wind chime
~ ~ ~
© hülya n. yılmaz, 2.24.2017
Filed under Poetry, Reflections
hülyaswritings 