JUST THE PAIN

 JUST THE PAIN OF IT

Just the pain of being a foreigner

Made me a writer

Just the pain of being an immigrant

Made me a writer

Just the pain of being alone

Made me a writer

Just the pain of not being part of my culture

Made e a writer

Just the pain f never seeing my parents

Made me a writer

Just the pain of exclusion

Made me a writer

Just the pain of ridicule

Made me a writer

Just the pain of being an outsider

Made ne a writer

Just the pain of history

Made ne a writer

Just the pain of knowledge of that history

Made me a writer

Just the pain of my insignificance

Made e a writer

Just the pain of loss of life

Made me a writer

Just the pain of truth

Made me a writer

Just the pain of me telling the truth abruptly

Made me a writer

Just the pain of Palestine

Made e a writer

Oh! GAZA, you made me a writer

Just the pain of so many children of GAZA

Made me a writer...

Now I am a writer...

I was a children doctor before

Now the murder of children

Oh! so many children

So many children

Made me a writer....

A FAINT SADNESS

 A FAINT SADNESS

"A faint sadness has remained in me

since I was 18.

(To be typed later, it's already hand written

but I can't type it right now...I will cry...

and I have been crying since you left me.)

A QUOTE FROM PAUL LYNCH

 A QUOTE FROM PAUL LYNCH

"Piercing and sudden irruption

of war."

SINGING BIRD CONTINUES

 SINGING BIRD CONTINUES

Hear the singing bird sing.

Long ignorant journey of the past

Hear the singing bird sing

Singing bird continues.

RILKE

 RILKE

"THUS ALL DOTH FALL."

FIBER

 FIBER

Legumes

Whole grains

Nuts

Chick peas

Beans

Seeds

Flak seeds

Chia seeds

Veges

Broccoli

Fruits

Strawberries

Raspberries

Blue berries

Steal cut oats

Black beans

Quinoa

Oats...

Avocado

Apples with skin

Almonds

TALENT

 TALENT

Talent

Without

Moral

Courage

Is

Useless.

THE BLIND MUSICIAN

THE BLIND MUSICIAN 

The blind musician

And his blind wife

On an old boulevard

Standing on the corner

The blind musician played 

Melodious tunes...

His blind wife

Holding a long stick

And a small jar

In her hand

For contributions

From strangers

Passing by...

What touched me the most

Was the melody

The blind man created

Without ever knowing

What was happening 

Around him...

People passin by

People eating

People drinking

People fighting

People shopping

Homeless begging

Sick people dying...

Blind man created his melody

Without ever encountering

The ugly part of life.

Stranger passing by...

Strangers like me

Passing by ...

On that biulevard

Fascinated and exhusted

By hordes of human beings

Creating some kind of

A bizarre festival...

But the thing which

Touched ne the most

Was the melody created by the

Blind musician..

His soothing, lamenting song

And his blind wife

 his flute

With joy over her husband

Playing the flute...

So fascinating was the sound

That the whole history

Of that historical town

Evaporated in the air

Except the sound of his flute

That lamenting sound

Spread all over the Bosphorous straigt

Like the perfume of Arabia...

RED SNEAKERS

 RED SNEAKERS

These red torn sneakers

Walked with e

Walked miles

Towards your grave.

They wanted to be comfortable

Though old and torn...

So, I could walk

Miles towards your grave.

GET UP

 GET UP

Get up from this chair and do something

Something?

Yes, something

Something?

Yes, i said, get up from this chair and do something

I don't know the meaning of that something you want me to do

Something, do something

Define that something you want me to do.

You define something for your self, it's your life

I thought we were lovers amd my life was your life

You must be joking

I go jogging

I go to the gym

I go to the bars

I go to the beach

Alone?

You go alone to all those somethings you do without me?

Yes, because you are glued to the chair. you don't get up.

Make me get up.

I can't do that

Why not?

Because we are lovers.

Not any more...

I have to go.

My lover is waiting for me to go jogging with him/her

Oh! we are not lovers any more.

You never got of that fucking chair...

SHE CALLED ME YESTERDAY

 SHE CALLED ME YESTERDAY

I didn't pick up

She didn't leave a message

Now I think it was a mistake

She called by mistake

But the phone kept ringing

Ringing and ringing

Can a mistake be so long?

What could have been her message?

I wonder...

Apology perhaps...

She was abusive to me

Out of no where, she one day called me and abused me

It was early in the morning...

I was still asleep...

She woke me up and abused me...

I became insomniac after that

What would have happened if I picked up the phone?

It would be a golden chance for her to abuse me again in the future

My insomnia would have been un-controlable.

SAD AFTERNOON

SAD AFTERNOON

Like evry afternoon

like every after noon

It's been a while

Since the happy afternoon left me

Now, it's a sad afternoon

Every afternoon. 

LIFE

LIFE

Life consists of days, evenings, nights

All un planned, unknown, destructive, wasteful broken glass

Can't gather them

My hands bleed

Nothing changes

Because I don't change

I don't know how to change.

My will is fragmented

Can't gather them

My hands bleed

Blood frighten me

I have been frightend since i was a little girl.

Shards of

Future

Future

You should have always lived in the future.

Look what your past did to you.

Yes,

Sorrow was always of my past and now the loss of him leaving has added

incredible sorrow to my past. Now he is my past, and thus an addition to my etrnal sorrow.

Futre was never for me.

The pain of the past never left me alone

Now it's too late.

Sorrow has increased 10 folds, no 100 folds, no 1000 folds. 

'SORROW.'

 "SORROW."

"Why do you have so much sorrow?

He is alive"

"Sorrow of the past."

"Now he is gone."

'Now I have more sorrow,"

'Sorrow of the past. Now he has also become my past."