13 “Demir, I found her! I’ve been looking for her in all the wrong places all these years. She is back in Halfeti, working as a –” “As a what? Where?” Demir asked with obvious impatience. Aker stopped himself from saying anything further. “Well, my dear D...
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10 “Demir, this hurts too much. Let me die. Please.” “Melek, my sweetheart, we are almost there. I’m so sorry you are hurting so much. But Aker will take excellent care of you. We can’t possibly find more capable hands in hiding. And I’ll be by your side...
7 Her brother – together with all their male cousins, had cornered them just when they were leaving the language school that Wednesday. Blending in with friendly gestures, they led them away from the exiting crowd. On the curbside of the opposite street,...
4 “Can you believe, we have known each other four months already?” Butrus spoke in full excitement but looked tired. “Did you have enough sleep last night?” Huban didn’t hide her concern. His classes at the university ended at noon. In the early afternoon...
Black Rose - Chapter 1-3
love in Turkey1 “Oh, dear God. My girl. My poor girl. Who did this to you? What they did to you! Oh, God. No! No!” “Mom, help me...” The ambulance sped through the many rural areas to Şanlıurfa hospital. Where Huban was born. The medics raced her stretcher through the...
Sinopem, or, Nostalgia
Is it a physical space we seek to find inside, loved ones, ourselves once all is no longer?the homeland enters the main veinher incomparable scent penetrates each body cellone stunning aroma after anotherthirsting for her, beyond any measurein hunger pangscaptive in intense longingetched in permanence into memorymy childhood in many of her spac...
Loneliness
Loneliness is not always filled with people..."My loneliness is filled with people," Kafka states. Loneliness once:Night times - the worst, amid winter darknessdays end in haste, day-ends prolong like childhood's gummy sweetsin the hands of street vendors, unkempt, unwashedlips not even touching the...
imbalance, or, Patriarchy
How some traditions in some cultures come across in the third spaceLoved? No doubtCared for? No doubtRespected? No doubtA son's finances, hooked to a lifetime supportThe daughter somehow must breathe without!
A Winter Retreat
As the cliche goes: a me-time (a gravely needed one, at that)Hours of road monotonythe GPS, a self-imposed dictatorshiptired, bored, no more beauty in the snow...thena private gateway;a much anticipated spectacle:The Inn.A compelling magnificence.No need for a color, a shade, or hue;a winter embrace of splendor;the...
Path to Self
The journey of a woman/wife/lover on the path to selfThe Wife his love, never fallen into herevident to both for longher non-denial from the onsethurtful honestythen, no longeronly at the endno wasted effort on his partall had to go along his wayyet, she, resolutereared in full idiocyof accommodating - exce...
a fireball of tears
Like a Sufi's moth seeking the candle, only, to be burnt by worldly loveDon't be burning, oh heart;don't be yearningfor those who can't afford a love like you,mistake life for this and that routine,hold on to joys so dull and mundane.You are in misery,burnt from the core.They can't possibly cease,these fireball tears.And yet,...
the silent wail
A poem about seeking a return to the pre-birth stage on account of immense emotional painno womb to take your tears to the hurt, above you – you, only a petite full-grown from a premature fetal fist – forced to let it lurk inside the three hundred ninety grams of it all as well as the mere seven pounds not once not twice nor the nth time but...