Tag Archives: love



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


Filed under Poetry, Reflections

A Turkish Proverb

For my homeland, an upcoming book of poetry and prose, I have been envisioning to add Turkish proverbs and their application in life within the cultural context of my country of birth. So, here I am, sharing one that attracted my interest last night.

“Before you love, learn to run through snow without leaving footprints.”


Filed under Reflections

. . .


“Nothing haunts us like the things we don’t say.” ~ Mitch Albom


Filed under Impulses

instead of . . .

i surprised him
the second he spotted me
behind his mommy
his little darling body
became a dance all by itself
his always smiling face
made room for even more
giggles many giggles
‘come on, grandma!’s
hand in hand
eyes locked on mine
my little enormous sunshine

‘you come to anne car’
ending in 1/3 of a question mark
with my yes already in his shiny heart

leaving his pre-school

amid the two grown women’s chatter
as untainted as out-of-this-world
as a human voice can ever be
“I love you, grandma!”

. . .

i love him so
his little sister too
that each such moment takes my breath away
but then together we all get to breathe again
laugh cry eat drink celebrate sleep be loved again

and on the many other ends of our truly splendid world
because of the few but contagious sick and sickening minds
under their equally plagued but money-pouring hands
children die
die again
die again

© hülya n. yılmaz (4.6.2017)

With a lump in my throat for the millions of children killed “[i]n the past ten years, as a result of armed conflict,” for the millions who “have been disabled, […] are homeless, and […] have become separated from their caregivers.” From: The Invisible Trauma of War-Affected Children (My quotes’ source, a post by Robert T. Muller, Ph.D. dates back to April 27, 2013. Close to four years later, the numbers of the so-called “casualties of war” do not need a scientific reference, do they?)


Filed under Reflections

. . .

“Ben seni ölene dek seveceğim” boş laf.
Ben seni sevdikçe ölmeyeceğim. ~ Can Yücel

“I’ll love you until I die”.
Empty talk!
I won’t die while I am loving you.

~ Own translation from the Turkish original



[Kalkan, Turkey – Free Online Image]


Filed under Impulses

…what happens in-between…

we are born alone to die alone
the self is either warmed up in-between
or under a lonesome cold

only the corpses get stiff i thought
not so when emotional touch is no more

© hülya n. yılmaz, 11.8.2016


[Own photograph; at Light on the Lake Bed and Breakfast, North East, PA]

Leave a comment

Filed under Reflections

Break over . . . Ara bitti . . . Die Pause ist nicht mehr . . .

. . . I am back although I couldn’t make it on time to my 7:00AM slot . . .


[Recycled image]

. . . have always been intrigued
by the well-known last words
or better yet
for whichever reason
many avoid calling them for what they are

no exceptions
too soon or not
each of us must hand over to death
dear ones who have given us
an all-encompassing love
whom we loved beyond that
which charades as life


have we really?

how many counts
on our attendance record
when ready and willing
we stood by their turns of hardship

i love you because you are you
you are my grandchild
you are my child you are my child
my fragile-psyched in bubbles raised niece
my pearl-hearted sister’s precious heir
my mother’s alike my sister’s alike my daughter’s alike
my older sister though not in blood
my sweet forgiving long-time friend
my gentle-souled beloved short-time friend
my accidental acquaintance-friend
my mother-in-law
my mother my babies’ grandmother
with all your flaws
with all your fears
with all your insecurities
with your self-defined selfish self
come inside my everlasting embrace
it is opened again and again for you
i love you
i just do

and then
they are gone
to eternity
deep into our erroneous past

life of their molding for our sakes
earth we thought entailed a world
the ground shaping our treks
having fooled us before
with its disguise of solidity
is no more

so we get swept away

from what seemed to be an indestructible fort
into the raging squalls of a river
that rushes to join with its sea
with no mercy

and are engulfed by constant undertows

we manage to stay afloat
long enough
to ask for their forgiveness

in the final moment
we remember
time never waits for any of us
to say i’m sorry to each soul we hurt
we remember
that there is no grace period for the span
between our first and last breath

© hülya n. yılmaz, 10.5.2016

Leave a comment

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

hqdefault[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

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 


who decided to soak heart-wrenching losses
in colors other than red anyway


© hülya n. yılmaz, 8.20.2016












Filed under Impulses, Poetry, Reflections

Before love, even death bows down

do you

fear death

i still do

that of my loved ones that is


when the heartbreak is too much to surpass

my memory box takes me by surprise


and i realize . . .

how even death bows down before love


© hülya n. yılmaz, 2.12.2016

≈ ≈ ≈

This poem appeared as one of my three poetry contributions for the March 2016 issue of The Year of the Poet III, a monthly international anthology published by Inner Child Press, Ltd. and consists of poems by eighteen writers, with between two and three featured new poets each month.



Filed under Poetry