Sunday, April 29, 2007

Draws of 39,61,69

Lake was laughing
When the wind blew
Suddenly water got mad
And the mountain froze

Drum helps me
To hear aliens
They are crying:
"Bringing light
With this
Awful sound?"
I am singing:
"My bird
Can fly"
Even pigs and
Fishes know that
This is good shit
You don't believe?

Saturday, April 28, 2007

In between of doubt and platform

When the train reached
To the last station
It was neither a train
Nor a passenger

"I am sorry to announce that
The train arriving from heaven
Has another 10 minutes delay"

"I told you..."
An email was
Just going to say.
Christmas wind
grabbed the letters
And run away

"I am sorry to announce that
The train arriving from heaven
Has another 10 minutes delay"

Did you really stop there?

Friday, April 27, 2007

Draws of 27,76,95

"Fuck, I forgot"
He broke the chain
Nothing is perfect
River said and
rolled away

Funeral and wedding
Stage and Yannis
A culture of 3 prophets
And a missing picture
From my childhood

Jazz music and
Your voice in my head
Drummer is suffering
And I am flying higher
and higher with your pain
Yours, his and mine,
I mean

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Draws of 46,71,83

Loyal wind touches
Earth's panties
Plants rise, approach
Toward south

In the countdown
for the next global war
An Asian gave me a CD
Full of Irish songs
We were in Digbeth

Black and white
All or none
That's the drug
I fear the most

Draws of 28,29,30

Wind blows, lake smiles
Tree excites, snail wonks
Rain gets pregnant
Tear comes and cries

Time bends, ceiling falls
World under tones of

Tree hides
Behind the lake:
Ass holes plus dense tiny mass
Results in a massive magic

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Draws of 7,8,9

She smilled behind the bar
What are you after? the cheapest
She came back with a one
Full of zero
I took and pucked 10

I'm going to be rational.
Am I going to be rational?
Is it possible to be rational?
I am sleeping !

My life is not a blank
Which should be filled
Behind all these bullshits
There is a sentence
Write it for me

Draws of 10,13,19

She went to the fall
Into the picture
On the wall
And left him
A little drop of poison

Moon is full here
Every night
And no one knows
I am back home

Black cat came to
The red room light
He was dreaming a prostitute
She licked his tears and

Monday, April 23, 2007

Draws of 1,2,3

A finch sat
On a dead tree
Sung, sung
And sung

A flower blossomed
From a far sea
And a river
In another land,
Made up with wings,
And flew

The farm is desert
The tree is dry
The bird is thirsty

Thursday, April 19, 2007

IP address, ID card

Last night someone
Dreamt that space
Became the swelling of time

How come?
The power of words
Is a carol for death
Sung by your tongue

Language vanished us
Blame or lie?
Nowadays we are nothing
More than IP address
ID card

Buddy, free interpretation for "Death of Nazli"

"Death of Nazli" is one of the identical poems of Ahmad Shamlou.

Spring is giggling
trees are itching
Even in this house
My old spirit flourished
Underneath of the sink

Leave the doubt
Don't fight with darkness
To be or not to be
Specially in spring?!

Buddy said nothing...
Buddy came from black sky
like every morning
And left

Buddy, talk to me
the bird of your silence
Has massacre in her nest

Buddy said nothing...
Buddy was a bit star
Flashed in the darkness
Smiled and left

Buddy said nothing
Buddy was a flower
Blossomed, whispered:
"Winter crashed"
And left into

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Died in five PM

When I left
The unquestioned time
Was resting between
You and me

It was five
In the afternoon...

When I'll come back
The dead clock
Will be buried
And the sun should
(It has to)
Be happy with
A little ice cream

That's it...

It is not breezing anymore
All the patient passengers
Crossed the common bridge
The station is empty
The train is gone...

The picture of dead time
Is on the shoulder of wall

The passion of delivery boy

There is no need
To hide it from
Light and star

Go and find your bowl
It is dinner time

I suppose to bring
A bright portion
Of river's Shadow
To this cottage;
I mean here

Is here your house?


Beyond the sea

There is a town

A boat should be made

Friday, April 13, 2007

Positive thinking

I was walking toward uni and a black bird shited on my T-shirt. I was happy that bulls are not flying!!!

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Night song

It is not a hoax:
The woman from the
Extreme of wish who
Orders my soul dish

Her elbow is from moon
Her skirt is from sky
And her hair is from
That infant sun
Which my grand child will
Certainly make a castle
From its light

It is not a story:
The woman who passes
The road of sin
The body which flies
With flames of heat
And by passion
And lips bites me
In a noughty dream

It is not a book:
It is a song
Which echoes
In the body of night

Tuesday, April 10, 2007


I wasn't that strong
You were so weak
To smash me by
Your bop


Our assets
Last forever:
(I have nothing rather than mine
You have all except some wine)


I pointed to the moon
You looked to my finger

Well done...

Monday, April 09, 2007

Walk in the green

I was in green. Endless green land of my dream was as vast as the chest of universe. I was timeless, walking in the bushes. Nobody was around. No voices, no clouds was above. On the ground the massive army of ants, coming back from the battle of spring, were singing the hymn of glory. I was alone, as always...

I was thinking about nothing. I was just amused by the green and the smell of bushes. I didn't even look to the sky. Earth was enough. I was enjoying being on the earth even as a tiny particle. I was nothing, but happy...

I was approaching toward a tree in the horizon, all white full of flowers. I was crawling toward it like a horny snake. It was my destiny, the reason for all of these. The tree was smiling and gently moving her hair in the breeze. My heart was beeping like a World War-II German alarm clock. My eyes were locked. My ears could just hear my breathing, harmonic sound of nature, full of desire.

I reached to the tree. The only thing that I found was a telephone; black, old fashion, with freaky ring.

- Yes?
- Ali, Where are you?
- I am in the green. What's up?
- Well, when are you gonna be in the house?
- Yours, or mine?
- Yours, I guess.
- OK, I'll be there in a while.
- Thanks mate.

I was running in the narrow walk toward my house. It was dark, not completely though. It was the beginning of night.

Yannis was smoking on the door. Rene and Rudi were sitting. Silence was the only topic for talk. Golden fishes were asleep. They have been in hunger strike these days. They are not eating at all; but they can manage to shit. They are kidding with mass balance theory, I suppose. Real rebel guys, God bless them. If we had ten million like them, world would be much nicer.

- The baby is dead, Yannis said.

She opened her eyes full of tears. I sat down and whispered in her ears.

- No problem, next time...


I am an accident
A messy melody
For you, perhaps
A dirty pig or even
A reason to be sick...

I am me:

I see myself,
I hear myself,
I think myself...

Up to the end
When I am here
The world is mine:
My little toy box
With all peace,
All loves,
All pains,
All alone...

After I'm gone
OK, (who cares?)
It's yours...

If you like see with me
Or let me see with you
Tell me, or let me tell you
Our peace,
Our love,
Our pain,
Our lone...

Saturday, April 07, 2007

Easter holiday

She was with a nice cut, white long skirt with no socks and a green All-Star trainers. Big black eyes with a dark green jacket made her even sexier. We suppose to go to the town, but of course we did not.

It's always going like that...

- Your loneliness is so massive...It is so obvious in your words.
- Fare enough. Yeah, you are right.
- It is scary, you know? But at the same time it is kind of interesting. Have you got a girl?
- If I had, you were not here.

We were looking to the amazing sunset in the garden. She was breathing so soft while sitting on my legs. I was busy with my thoughts. She was calm, satisfied.

- What do you think about me?
- You? I don't know. I've just met you a couple of times.
- But I told you.
- What?
- You are alone.
- And you are so girl.
- Really?
- I think so.

I was sick of talking. I just wanted to touch the transparent vapors of feelings while staring to the battle of sunset. Vapors made a small cloud above us.

She was kissing me gently and I was waiting for the next rain. I really wish that I was instead of her. She was simpler, thus happier.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Re-booting the system

Mathematics is the body of knowledge centered on concepts such as quantity, structure, space, and change. It evolved, through the use of abstraction and logical reasoning, from counting, calculation, measurement, and the systematic study of the shapes and motions of physical objects. Mathematicians explore such concepts, aiming to formulate new conjectures and establish their truth by rigorous deduction from appropriately chosen axioms and definitions. Mathematics is used throughout the world in many fields, including science, engineering, medicine and economics. These fields both inspire and make use of new discoveries in mathematics. The application of mathematics to such fields is often called applied mathematics. Mathematicians also engage in pure mathematics, or mathematics for its own sake, without having any practical application in mind; although applications for what began as pure mathematics are often discovered later.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007


They are not going to answer your greeting
Their heads are in their collars
Nobody is going to raise his head
To answer a question or to see a friend
The eyes cannot see beyond the feet
The road is dark and slick
If you stretch a friendly hand towards anybody
He hardly brings his hand out of his pocket
For the cold is so bitter
The breath coming out of your chest
Turns into a dark cloud
And stands like a wall in front of your eyes
While your own breath is like this
What do you expect from your distant or close friends?
My gentle Messiah, O, dirty dressed monk
The weather is so ungently cold
You be warm and happy
You answer my greeting and open the door
It is me, your nightly guest, an unhappy gypsy;
It is me, a kicked up, afflicted stone
It is me, a low insult of creation, an untuned melody.
I am neither white nor black
I am colorless
Come and open the door, see how cheerless I am
O, my dear host, your nightly guest is shivering outside
There is no hail outside, no death;
If you hear any sound, it is the sound of cold and teeth.
What are you saying, that
It is too late, it is dawn, it is day?
What you see on the sky
Is not the redness after dawn
It is the result of the winter's slap
On the sky's cheeks
O, partner go and get the wine ready
Days and nights are the same
They are not going to answer your greeting
The air is gloomy, doors are closed,
The heads are in collars, the hands are hidden,
The breaths are clouds, the people are tired and sad,
The trees are crystallized skeletons, the earth is low-spirited
The roof of the sky is low
The sun and moon are hazy
It is winter.

Mehdi Akhavan-Sales

Shocking night stand and release of British soldiers

There is no boiling bubble anymore. Nothing. The internal conversation has been stopped. There is an absolute silence in the form of a general awareness. I was just stocked, exhausted, knocked. That's it.

There is no way to look back. There is no way to find the answers. There is no way to ask new questions. There is no way to justify. There is no way to label actions. I was as right as I was wrong. Everybody else can do the same. I did the same. I will do the same.

We have to turn the way, both of us, three of us, all of us...Answers are coming after the next crisis. We have to come back to the practical level. We have to be prepared for next crisis. Instead of looking for the truth, we should define plausibility, a subjective signal...The path that we have been and we are going.

There is no good, there is no bad. There is no devil, there is no angel. Everything is the matter of degrees and degrees are measurement. Measures are fact but not truth. Facts are biased. They are just some reflections passing from a goggle.

Maybe there is no truth. There is still not enough evidence.

I have to take care of my fragile awareness. Nothing was fault. Nobody was wrong. History goes in its own way and destiney is a potential choice; Just a quasi-choice.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Down the corner, I have a friend

Down the corner I have a friend,
In this gloomy city of Brummy accent,
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year will be gone.
And I never see my friend's face,
For life is a swift and terrible race,
She (He) knows I like her (him) just as well,
As in the days when I rang her (his) bell.
And she (he) rang mine but we were younger,
fresher then.

And now we are busy, tired beings.
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.
Sometimes even pissed off,
But that's just a face.
"Tomorrow" I say! "I will call on her (him)
Just to show that I'm thinking of her (him)."
But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows.
Down the corner, or miles away,
what's the difference?
"Here's the email sir (ma'am)," "She (He) flew today."
And that's what we get and deserve in the end.
Down the corner, a vanished friend.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Peace with all around...

The path is there and so clear...The door is open and I am in the kitchen...He is cooking (Miguel would say cocking). The smell of vinegar is every where....Even in my pocket...

Somebody is singing about liberty...Good old high school days; innocence, childishness, nothingness...

They came with a loud mobile ring and then an unknown language, but you know what is going on....Do you know how I can get to the nearest bank? But today is sunday. I don't really care show me the way...

I've been through it before. Faces are boiling, coming up and fading. I am just watching every possible things. From past, from now, from inside and from outside. Watching is tough job, I know.

TV is fucked up, brain damaged. On and off. On and off. On and off.

Moments are getting deeper, longer, wider. Kitchen is full by different bubbles of feelings. They are approaching to me. It seems that they are just attracted by me. Advancing, touching my skin and then a massive sudden silence crying: BANG. Everything is fading and then it is absolute darkness or brightness. You never know which one is coming. Black or white? Just extremes, extremes, extremes....

Fuck...I have to keep on watching...The TV is again off....Yanniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

Loneliness with all around, peace with all around, anger with nobody around....And now is friends...Which episode? I don't know....

The smell of vinegar converting to Teen Spirit and it is not coming out of the pot, but from HI-FI...Is it right? Yes, it is nirvana. How come? Modern world, total illusion somehow....

He closed the door and continued his words. Words are capturing the feelings from a separated island. Green, friendly with full of shopping.

Next war...Next month...Next job...Next life...One day, sooner or later. Does it really matter? Sometimes.

And I have to keep on watching...The TV is on instead of off....Even no reason to shout Yanniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

Sunday sun is cold and freezing. Spring is here although she is sometimes so chicky.