İçi Dışı Bir Çocuk

içinde bir çocuk saklıyorsun ve adamlar

almak istiyorlar elma yanaklar alma diyemiyorsun

cemaatleri var herkesin isimlerini

cübbelemişler

aşkı

ellemişler kara toprağı ve yoncaları

bulamamışlar altından

içinde bir çocuk aklı saklı kıskanç

kıskaçları var onların

yüzlerin

gözleri var baktıkça yengeçler

istiyorlar bin İsmail

kurban olmak için dizilmişler

senin tepen dönmüş kuyuya deniz

ters yüzün kara etrafın

bedenin, senin boşluğun doğurduğun

düşünce abanın altı çocuk ıslak ıslak

görsel: Luke Hillestad

Dear Devil

dear devil

this is a letter to you declaring or

rather daring to reveal that

there is so much evil in me that I feel ravished

and undone John Donne style

you Mr. Atomic 

I have to,

eyes have to see

need to identify the need to be me and you

possessions, Catholic clothes

capitalist and sexy and watery we

must create a gap

tell me if it is me or you who

objectifies the world into moments

people into things and things into people

tangible, irreversible yet destructible

men and man-moths

bugs and bugs me hard

tell me more about invasion, insertion

whose horns are these wailing and wailing

tell me if you rub my back, do I rub on you

and you, always reddish

with a cross on your forehead old man

feel a joyless alternative flesh-fight

a wrestle with God, the way I wrestle with myself

lustful, mind boggling and forgivingly simple

The Old Man in the Field Sky

in the middle of a field

in a bed not of roses

but of marigolds

an old man sleeps the sky

as he wakes mushy

the absence of sleep, palpitating

another life, another body

something blurry, something blue

beckons him

with no face, half a face

he mirrors in the yellow sky

the blue eyes that belonged to his father

and before to his father’s father

are now about to fade into grey 

pecked at by the birds of prey

every morning

he prays not to dye

for the world already breathes color

for the inhaling eye

Picture: Dalle-2 AI

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