Winter is about to pull in
but the heart is unready for its arrival as yet.
~ Own translation (10.21.2016)
Tag Archives: life
. . . with my thanks to all who don’t play down the dark side of life
we all have so many scars
that we have grown roots
now rotting fast
in that favorite place of many a gathering
your kitchen my kitchen those dearest friends’ kitchen
grandma’s kitchen mama’s kitchen dad’s i too can cook-kitchen
each cupboard smelling like their pain med
poorly prescribed for their end
witches’ brew in a cauldron before us
even the back burner’s simmer-dial
scorches the ancestral ladle right off of our hand
the same hand we thought could control our fingers
which in turn would glow to show us whether to stir clockwise
or counter-clockwise
with rigor or not
how many times
for how long
when
why
our embarrassingly short short-term-memory
convinces us to believe fairy-tales all over again
that maybe just maybe
a tiny batch of soul food
would drizzle out of such gooey gunk
enchanting us in to our prenatal sheath
thus gifting us with a little breather
in order that we can tend our scabs
tend to the gashes in our hearts
instead
the immortal spell-thrower
engulfs us
with a flood of burning ashes
spooned right out of the pot of our own churning
and
our bruises
while still in their nth round of incrustation
turn blood red once more
because our systemic veins are wide-open yet once more
© hülya n. yılmaz, 10.0.2016
Filed under Reflections
“a heart’s burial”
it wasn’t meant to be
that much i do know
your print on my soul
will not reason though
atop the shards of my shell . . .
one may conclude i do move on
while without cease i continue to quest
for my long forgotten unrecognizable self
which only with you was always at its best
with no sign of relent
my trapped-in you-heart is set
on repeat rewind
rewind repeat . . .
outside my four chambers
i keep waiting for that evasive day
when i may feel warmth again
to succeed in putting it to its final rest
© hülya n. yılmaz, 8.20.2016
Filed under Impulses, Poetry, Reflections
In my facelifted writing corner
[Click for Image Credit]
missing you
not because of a need
or for a want
the yearning is different from before
neither acute nor painful only aware
that the mirage of you has its pillar no more
these days
fairy tales
fail to impress me
still
i go on missing you
the version i was convinced i knew
in blunt terms
time hasn’t healed anything
though promised by many it would do so
how can it i now dare to ask
it lacks the essence of life after all
your new versions transpire as proof
besides
who decided to soak heart-wrenching losses
in colors other than red anyway
© hülya n. yılmaz, 8.20.2016
Filed under Impulses, Poetry, Reflections
…a mid-week musing…
Photo Credit: Self
Date: Summer 2005
Location: Ada, Sinop – Turkey
Filed under Impulses
. . . lack of dignity in crying?
In the words I quote below, Dejan Stojanovic – a contemporary poet, writer and essayist, conceptualizes a human quality I lack when one were to take into consideration only my reaction to tragic life events:
“To hide feelings when you are near crying is the secret of dignity.”
It would be a dramatic understatement for me to even claim that my case ever involved a mere “near crying” state. Tears run in abundance. Whenever the suffering and pain of others have my attention – regardless of my proximity to them. Then, there is also the matter of my own suffering. While I handle pain rather well, the emotional hurt I experience in the face of heart-wrenching occurrences is too stubborn to let me hold back the salty drops. But, I am not apologizing. For I hold the conviction that the release of one of our inborn emotions cannot serve as a basis to measure dignity. Would you agree? I would love to hear from you either way while I continue to hope that our psyches will grant us with a far less rigid definition of this human characteristic.
In the meantime, I leave you with my emotion-laden words. They came to me at a time when I was in a most vulnerable state of being, facing a rash and harsh demand for a loss to life. As you will probably also conclude, the following lines evidence that my self-judgment as I have started my post with is not severe after all:
ripped off of its cage
hot iron presses upon the open heart
defeated not yet deceased
the body continues to beat
(hülya n. yılmaz, 5.20.2015)
Filed under Reflections
…a note to self: if not wise, seek advice…(Week Seventeen)
…with full respect to the world-renowned author from whom I am quoting today: what is one to conclude when the “stillness” ‘within’ transforms into “a sanctuary to which” memories, adamant in their dedication to hurt yet refusing to be un-lived, “retreat at any time”…
“Within you there is a stillness and a sanctuary to which you can retreat at any time.” ~ Hermann Hesse
Filed under Reflections
…a note to self: if not wise, seek advice…(Week Sixteen)
A devoted supporter of peace and healing for humanity at large, Inner Child Press, Ltd has accepted submissions of poetry on the subject toward its third World Healing World Peace anthology. The new volume will be published in April 2016 for the National Poetry Month. The 2012 and 2014 volumes are available at the publisher’s website (given above) and at Amazon.com. A large number of writers made a commitment in the creation of this poetry anthology to voice their experiences, views, hopes and suggestions for continued deliberation on this critical matter of human life everywhere. Simply because:
“The planet does not need more successful people. The planet desperately needs more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers and lovers of all kinds.” ~ The Dalai Lama
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Filed under Reflections
…a note to self: if not wise, seek advice…(Week Fifteen)
When your bow is broken and your arrows are exhausted,
There, shoot!
Shoot with your whole being!
Filed under Reflections
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