Tag Archives: Poetry

A Favorite Poem

Sinopem

the homeland enters the main vein
her scent floods to each body cell
one stunning aroma after another
i thirst in hunger pangs

etched to memory in blood and flesh
the magic of my early life
often asleep – head should feel sore
however when awake cold or ache no more
blanket soaking in her perfume
pillow, one of softest feathers
“snow falls upon who sleeps” she whispers . . .

one corner – a distinctive delight
a town in unison with its sea
unlocks the long suppressed

there!
it stretches to the harbor in cheer
main street down tea gardens of yesteryear
Divan café – loyal as ever before
hugs the aged salt factory to affectionately mend
guards before the old prison the compliant inner bay
not at all anxious by its fast descending bend
sates with secrets-devouring treats
my childhood eyes and arousing sighs
on loads and loads of mouth-watering plates
a huge piece of Revani* – apt for my sweet-tooth-fame
topped with natural ice cream of vanilla beans
delights generation after generation after generation
eight in total the loved ones of mine

farther away lies the town’s aorta
the legendary passage to famed Ada
coveting April 23rd parades of ribbon bouquets
on Çocuk Bayramı – Festival of Children . . .
flows in sync with streets wide open alleys unseen
carries along a dear one of mine
to the heart’s mind scene by scene

my eyes lock on the trail to the highest peak
one modest look to the left or the right
the sea struts its azure wealth and might

and there a breath away
dons mysteries that spectacular house
bricks worn out shutters ashen hue
still erect in humility though
vies few more breaths to accrue
ornate transoms eye the vastness of the sky
their weathered glances down upon the sea
the soil tender as a new mother’s caress
depleted tree roots soon to finally rest
as have those who were put there abreast

my heart wanders off to the faded print:
wide steps to a wooden tall entry door
a stately man – fedora briefcase handsome face
my uncle by his leg – a mere toddler
a Shirley Temple though Turkish – my mother
her tiny gleaming face ever so bright
glued to the colossal front window

my grandmother’s beauty in the dark
on her lap my other uncle – her youngest
his cruel damaged pre-natal heart 
cut off too soon his contagious delight

next to me
the unique scent of my mother
the warmest warmth of her soul

*Sinop/e of the Turkish Black Sea – my adoptive birthplace, –is the country’s only peninsula. “Sinopem” is a self-coined wordplay for which I resorted to reflect the Turkish possessive suffix. This small picturesque town is where eight generations on my mother side lived and died; “Revani”: A traditional Turkish dessert made of semolina and heavy syrup.

~ ~ ~ ~
This favorite poem of mine has first appeared in my poetry book, Aflame: Memoirs in Verse (published by Inner Child Press International on May 9, 2018)

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Ali Eymen’ime

Ali Eymen’ime, Doğum Günü’nde

İlk Dansımız

Anneciğinin ve babacığının odasında
Yerleştirdik seni önce.
Senle ben daha sonra
Geçtik yedek odanıza.
Yapışık uyudum ben senin sepetine.
Biraz huzursuzlanmıştın sen bir gece.
Çok hafif bir ışık açtım sana.
Kurdum bir de sepet-üstü
“Mobile” oyuncağını.
Onun müziği eşliğinde
Başladık ikimiz ilk dansımıza.
Adeta uçuyordum ben bulutlar üstünde.
Mis kokun, sıcacık masum bebek nefesin
Mest etmişti beni.
Sakinledin sen hemen.
Gene de bırakamadım yerine seni.
Kucağım etti ısrar ve de isyan,
Ayırırsam ben seni benden diye, olur ya.
Kucakladım defalarca o mucize güzelliğini,
Ama dikkat ederek seni uyandırmamaya.
Kokladım her bir yerini belki de yüzlerce kere.
Seni yatırdığımda sepetine,
Bomboş kalmıştı içim.
Pek bir mutluydum ama.
Dalmıştın sen bir kez daha
O huzurlu, melek uykuna.

Our First Dance

Your crib was set up
In the room of your
Mommy and Daddy.
Their spare room
Was serving you and me.
I had glued myself ecstatically
To your you-scented bassinet in there.
One night, sleep escaped you again.
I started your mobile toy
And dimmed the lights.
Then began our first dance.
I was flying atop the clouds.
Your gift of a heavenly scent,
Your sweet, innocent baby-breaths
Had enchanted my aging soul.
You calmed down. Fast.
Still, I could not lay you down.
My arms insisted with a frown . . .
I could not part myself from you.
I hugged your miracle-beauty.
Who knows how many times?
But I did so as softly as I could be.
I inhaled your scent repeatedly.
The moment I lowered you
Into your slumber-bay,
A sense of void came to me to stay.
I felt so empty but was very happy.
For you had fallen peacefully
Into your usual angelic sleep. 

From Canlarım, My Lifeblood, my book of Turkish and English poetry (Private Edition, published in December 2019 by Inner Child Press International)

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“A Pained Yearning”

A Pained Yearning

The Sun and I talk to each other every day about you and how I stayed away. I never had much to offer in terms of worldly gifts. My love for you, however, is forever there. Unlike my words, it never hesitates. It is thunderous. It is wondrous. It is here to stay.

Fast and furious, the urge to be around you roars over me once more. One more evening has arrived after another day without you. 24 more hours have come and gone. Yet, my old frame is still the same one.

Though I loved and will love you infinitely, my outer Self is known for its negligent expressions. Of this flaw, even my One-and-Only had her share. My thoughtless ways of the past undress my soul today, leaving it totally bare.

Forgive me for my phone calls’ rarity! Forgive me for all those times when I was absent from your lives! Forgive me for who I am not and have not been able to be.

You have loved me unconditionally. I know, I have missed my chance to be with you as often as I could. I wish wholeheartedly once again that I would be understood. 

From my Letter-Poems from a Beloved (published on June 21, 2020 by Inner Child Press, Ltd.)

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“Survival”

Survival

I imagine a garden, a gated community, surviving on its own . . . never opening its padlock to those who under their clothes tag along determined drones, ready to elicit an army of loners with clapping hands of “rahs” and “hurrahs”, reproducing at wharp speed to outsource peace . . . in their dire hope for love to be forgotten soon.

*I am aware that “Survival” is about one run-on sentence. Please, do not call the grammar police on me, as this structure was and is intended.

~ ~ ~

*From my book of prose poetry, Letter-Poems from a Beloved (published on May 5, 2020 by Inner Child Press International)

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A New Poem

disillusioned . . .

you must have faced a savage opposition
fanaticism ran deep also in your beloved country
your 1990 Nobel Prize for peace speaks for itself
you have overcome obstacles during your presidency

i often wonder these days
if your birth into the life of regular people
– not with a silver spoon in your mouth,
as we say here in the good ol’ US of A,
was what molded into the essence of you
your non-exclusive dedication to humanity,
to your people’s well-being and sanity

the entire world is now under the threat of a deadly virus
some countries’ leaders have taken – ever so swiftly –
effective measures to control its wide-reaching spread
among their populace – affectionately, all-inclusively –
everyone in every nation today needs such leadership direly
yet several self-serving holders of a seat of high command
go about their own business while they continue to demand
that we bow down, keep silent, and accept what is at risk,
not persist with our questioning
and not insist on our rights
which we are too close to losing
with a hastened move of the leading hand’s swing

oh, how welcomed it would be to have a peace icon like you
if only we could rise above these dark times – all intact –
as if reaching to touch a sky of hues in azure blue

disillusioned?
oh, yes, i am,
about the good i believed that was all-embracing-ly true

(c) hülya n. yılmaz, August 15, 2020

This poem is one of my three submissions that will appear in the September 2020 issue of The Year of the Poet, published by Inner Child International. The year 2020 has been designated to Nobel Peace Prize recipients. September’s focus was Michail Sergeyevich Gorbachev.

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Guest Post, 2

I have met also this Sunday’s guest online. However, Orbindu Ganga and I have been communicating quite intensely on a variety of subjects since the onset of our friendship on social media. My visits to his posts have shown me that he is a graceful, gracious, caring and giving individual whom I see as a modern-day thinker. When it comes to the betterment of humanity at large, Orbindu is passionately present on electronic platforms with his landmark “BeHumane” [sic] motto.  His personal mantra is about ‘making someone smile’. To that I would like to state a fact: He makes my heart smile.

I could go on and on about this extraordinary soul who happens to be a young poetic talent as well as an accomplished painter, but I will restrain myself from doing so; for, his creative writings and art speak for themselves. As for his spirit, a true gift, you can only know it up close, if he lets you in.

 

orbindu-ganga-3

 

“Mastered, slave within”
A Poem by Orbindu Ganga

Thoughts have flown never
To decipher, the genesis of being,
Intruding many times with a smile
To be caught, escaping from the clutches,
Sauntering to peek through
The windows, they ricocheted,
With no one to open
The doors, she knocked,
As the doors opened to
See the guest, she escaped,
She continued knocking
The door, not to be seen,
When she was caught
Trying to escape, she bought
Many memories of yestreen,
Such was the gush
Of the zephyr, it left an imprint.

Drenched many times
To hold the might, to stay focused,
Relentlessly to drive the mind
To achieve, the goal of life,
Many times compromised
The tide, to leave it aside,
Smiling for a reason never
Known before, striving for success,
Carried baggage full of hope
With no love, reaching the goal,
Having achieved never made
An iota of a smile, thoughts lingered,
Success never gave a smile
Within, leaving the bliss behind,
Designed to win the battle
Of success, lost the journey of life.

Creating thoughts to amplify
The being, thoughts stayed,
Never did we realize the dreams
Of feelings, giving us the smile,
Got delved into the realms of
Achieving, we lost our heart,
The thoughts to make life
Within self, blown with the wind,
Creating the essence of our
Thoughts never created the zest,
Words were penned to craft
The feelings, to have lost the meaning,
Mastering our plans were
Imbibed, only to fail to live a life,
Experiencing the feeling have
Dried, only to be fallen deep.

 

Selected Quotes by Orbindu Ganga

 

 

“My Observation on Beauty”
By Orbindu Ganga

Beauty is a manifestation of what we see. The thought of seeing something beautiful depends on how one sees it. The realization of a beautiful being is the realization of self. When we are able to realize that the existence of self and we identify the self, the precursor of the journey begins. The thought to unlearn and to start from the unknown shall be the inception of the journey. The thoughtlessness shall veil into nothingness to make the flow in search of the truth. The receiver and the giver become the same when the realms of understanding of the truth become lucid. Beauty in its form is a manifestation with an expression. When the truth is known from an unknown, beauty doesn’t become an expression but a being within. As the form evolves to a formless form, the beauty becomes a formless entity with the form and formless layered within one another to become itself. It is a vicious circle of inception and denouement becoming the being itself. The form loses the value of its manifestation where the existence becomes irreverent since the entity of beauty has become a being of formlessness from a form and formless.

 

A Selection of Orbindu Ganga’s Paintings

(Please move your cursor to each picture in the collage immediately below to see the titles. Some are displayed again, but untitled, in the circle frames underneath the collage for your repeated viewing pleasure.)

 

Biography, as Written by My Guest

Orbindu Ganga is an Indian post-graduate in science and the first recipient of Dr. Mitra Augustine gold medal for academic excellence. He worked in financial, banking and publishing domains. He proved his finesse as a Soft Skills Trainer and Content Account Manager (Client Relationship Manager).

Content writing intrigued him to love the world of English literature. Loving the words and understanding the origin made him agog for semantics, etymology, and neology. He touches the nuances to get imbibed in understanding human behaviour in psychology and counseling. To understand the dynamics and the deeper conscience of mind is his view of knowing neuroscience and philosophy. The past has always been a subject of discussion which he adsorbs from history and archaeological studies. Nature and its diverse species have fascinated him in the study of entomology, ecology, oceanography, and ichthyology. Walls do speak and so do is the structure which captivated him to get imbued in architecture and interior designing. Knowing the world around and creating a thought to get answers whirled in the thoughts to the world of quizzing. Understanding the people and the places created more inquisitiveness towards traveling. The heavenly bodies and its movement primed his love for astronomy. The waves of silence have always whispered him to music. In pursuit of the truth of the unknown influenced him deep in spirituality. He loves to be a counselor and a life coach.

He is known by his pen name in the poetic world as Orlando Blake. Orbindu Ganga is a multilingual poet, author, critic, content writer, painter, humanitarian and spiritual healer.

Poetry has been his first love. His poetry “Lighting a candle of hope” has been published in the yearly “World Healing World Peace 2020” anthology published by the publishing house Inner Child Press International Publication from the United States of America. His poetry featured among the 42 poets around the world in the yearly anthology WHISPERS OF SOFTLAY: Yearly Anthology of poetry.

He has been the featured poet twice in November 2019 and July 2020 edition of “The Year of Poet VI and VII” for the poems – “Alone in the garden”, “Scary eyes”, “Dilapidated edifice”, “Hiding her tears”, “Waiting” and “Flowing” published by Inner Child Press International Publication (United States of America).

His poems have been published in international publications like The Writers Club (United Kingdom) – “Tsunami”, SIPAY Literary Journal (Seychelles) – “Revered the silence”, “Humanity in nature’s cry: Kerala Flood” and “Unflowered.” Teesta Review : A Journal of poetry (India) – “Touching edifices” and “Mendicant”, Sahitya Anand (India) – “Time to awake”, “Shards of glass”, “Perpetuity in backwaters” and “It rained like never before”, Spillwords Press (United Kingdom) “My smiling assassin”, “Premonition”, “Metamorphosed”, “Ricocheting the self”, “Phrontistery”, “Aurora splashes”, “Searching him”, “Her creation”, “Flowing ink” and “The waiting days”, SETU (United States of America), OPA – “Living with her memories” , Atunis (Albania) – “A way to snowfondland”, “Silence after the commotion and “My snobbish little bridge”, Winamop (United Kingdom) – “Ashes”, “Touch me not”, “My snout-fair snow”, “Walking in the snow” and “Being forlorn in autumn”, “Serendipity”, “Starry Night”, “Tears”, “Culacino”, “Junction” and “Blank”, Science Shore (India) – “Realization”, Borderless Journal (India) – “Praying Mantis” & Poetry of Spring’s Embrace (United States of America) – “Sun Sliced the Ice”, “If you had …”, “She was my mother”, “Haunted exile”, “Confetti of mizzle”, “Where do I seek justice ?”, “Flowing like a river”, “Inane species”, “To think different”, “In tune with nature”, “Sauntering heart for her”, “Let her go”, “Broken Wings”, “My colours”, “Still inspiring us”, “God’s own country”, “Being”, “Shadow”, “Troubled water”, “Inundated flow”, “The nameless”, “Remorse”, “Let them heal alone”, “The shift”, “Tittle”, “Voice of a revolution”, “Chiaroscuro”, “Dusted in dust”, “Astral”, “To connect”, “Nihility”, “Substance of a thought”, “Seeing the life through”, “Thoughtfulness”, “The Unsung”, “Like never before”, “At last, not again – The rain”, “Weeping in my heart”, “The choice of knowing”, “Listening to her”, “Adam-Eved”, “Never the same”, “An ink forever” ,”A drive at night”, “Living with her, delighted forever”, “Au Revoir”, “She is my smile”, “Karmic flow”, “A helping hand”, “Copious in silence”, “A taste of being amarantine”, “Harakiri”, “Lost with the mind”, “Pulchritudinous drained”, “Moments of beauty”, “Existence of Tagore”, “Mastered, Slave within”, and”Enprint of nature – Truth of life.”

The November edition of the prestigious Poiesisonline Multiversity International Monthly magazine THE MAG has published his multilingual poetry from English (My Silence …) to Hindi –  मेरी खामोशियां (Meri Khamoshiyaan) and Tamil – என் மௌனம் (En maunam). His poetry “A clarion call for synergy” has been published in the special edition of journal Cultural Reverence.

His poems have been published in anthologies like VASUDHA 2 – “Selfless”, RAINDROPS OF LOVE, HEARTISTRY – “She” and “Love being floored”, POEMS FROM 30 BEST POETS – “Knowing me”, “Journey to heart” and “Hide & Seek”, MOONLIGHT – “Moonglade”, “Pleine Lune” and “Moonwake”, MEDLEY OF MELODIES – “Cleanse me”, CORONA – SOCIAL DISTANCING – “The known assassin – Corona”, “ROOBROO – II – ” Watered” and THE HEART OF A POET – “Being humane.” “His poems have been published in Techtouchtalk, an English Weekly – “The landfall” and “Ant – The Ant.”

His poetry featured in an international anthology “WORLD FOR PEACE” by World Institute for Peace (WIP). He has published his oeuvre “Where is my daughter ?” on dementia in the book TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS WITH DEMENTIA. His poetry “My words” featured in the YouTube channel POETRY FOR PEACE on World Poetry Day March 21, 2019. His three poems – “Playing around”, “Eternal love” and “Princess” are published in the anthology “HARMONIOUS SYMPHONIES” by Soulitaire. His two poems “Smiling with a gelasin” and “Like never before’ are published in the anthology ” BEYOND WORDS”.

His short story “Dharma’s Battle” has been published in the book “The land of unfree laborers.” He has two research papers published in the journal – Thar Multidiscipline Journal (A spiritual insight: A study on Rudyard Kipling’s poem “IF”) and a book – The Poetry of Vihang A. Naik (New Literary Dimensions) – Quest for peace and Hope: A study of Vihang A. Naik’s Poetry Manifesto (New & Selected Poems). He has reviewed a book – Reneging Quiescence by Dr Samiha Zubair.

His articles “Thoughts have a heart” and “God’s own country – A model to emulate during medical emergency”, “A journey away from crescendo”, “Mother: A God on earth” and “The inception of a new dimension” have been published in the digital platform in yoursnews.in. “Education system need reform” and “The suicidal SELF” has been published in Sindh Courier. His article “The art of learning” is published in SCIENCE SHORE. His poetry and prose have been published in the book “Complexion Based Discriminations.” His science article “Understanding bipolar disorder with pineal gland” has been published in the book  “NO ONE FIGHTS ALONE – Volume 2.” His painting “Adsorbing the energy” and the article “A journey to explore” have been published in a spiritual journal – Awakening (India). His photography “THEYYAM” has been published in Winamop. He features in World Anthology by World Nation Writers’ Union (Kazakistan) (Temirqazyq – Best Poet/Writer 2017) – “Reams of dreams” and “Pantin.

Orbindu Ganga’s Links:

Author’s Interview
Blog
Amazon
Amazon Author Page
Facebook
BeHumane Group
Words Group
Instagram

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“Internationalism”

Internationalism

What a concept for our times!

After all, not perilous are all -isms.

Internationalism . . .
a passionate dedication to world peace . . .
hence, the key to the betterment of humanity.

I dream of the day
when, across the board,
our curricula dons finally
a sweeping devotion to humanism,
an unconditional inclusion-ism.

A dream, not impossible to make true . . .

If only
each of us
were to aspire
to inhale and exhale
as the likes of Henry La Fontaine!

© hülya n. yılmaz, 2.10.2020

*One of my three poems that appeared in the February 2020 issue of The Year of the Poet, a monthly international anthology, published by Inner Child Press International.

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“At the Shore”

the mist of the Mediterranean Sea on my face
surrounds me with my loved ones’ embrace
a childhood spent carefree
early youth and young adulthood?
what a bliss!
all my life stages there
are brightly lit in my memory
with nothing left for me to desire
for fulfilled am i to an ultimate degree

on this day, i keep looking back
at each of those moments, i am taken aback
for the beauties i breathe in vividly prevail
and eagerly, i forge ahead to inhale

(c) hülya n. yılmaz, 2.10.2020

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African Turks

African Turks

The Eunuchs of the Ottoman Empire . . .
I knew about their existence,
yet not much else as far as their lives.
I had my early schooling in Turkey,
yet very little had been taught to us.

Decades later, I learned a name:
Mustafa Olpak, a writer and activist.
“Dana Bayramı” was one tradition
African Turks held on to
in order to remember their history.

They were not at all small in number.
Not that such statistics would matter!
Some were held as slaves,
others endured the fire and ascended
into rank inside a powerful empire.

Their descendants are alive.

Power structures come and go.
That is the call.
One day, they all fall.
What then happens to their oppressed?
Cultural accounts will and do talk.

As a Turkish woman, I am in despair.
For this shame, there is no repair.
Going through all kinds of emotions,
I am desperate to spread the word,
for whatever it is worth.

(c) hülya n. yılmaz, 2.1.2020

Related Readings:
~ Mustafa Olpak
~ “Dana Bayramı”: “Afro-Turks living in İzmir celebrated the traditional spring festival Dana Bayramı (“Calf Festival”) until the 1960s. Dana Bayramı has currently been revived among the younger generation of Afro-Turks (Wikipedia).”

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“A Dreamer”

each morning,
i open my heart’s window to hope
that, one day, destroyers of life
will cease to be

the two-legged animal species, that is
the other kind does it for survival, after all

abusers
murderers
warmongers
hate-feeders
fear- and doubt-crafters

you know them as well as i do

the lost souls . . .

every one of them has to go

it is not killing i am talking about
no! it is in our power to take away theirs
silence is complicity
why are we still sitting quietly?
is it not worth for humanity
to not turn a blind eye to their atrocities?

think of it seriously,
as John Lennon once did famously:

“Imagine there’s no countries.
It isn’t hard to do.
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion, too.

Imagine all the people
Living life in peace.

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one.
I hope someday you will join us
And the world will be as one.

Imagine no possessions.
I wonder if you can.
No need for greed or hunger.
A brotherhood of man.”

yes! i dream to my heart’s content
yes! i imagine the same at the core of my soul
it really is not hard to do
wouldn’t you like to be a dreamer too?

what have you got to lose?

(c) hülya n. yılmaz, 1.5.2020

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