I just CANNOT bring myself to do anything productive--I am constantly distracted. Not in a very positive way either; at least not tonight.

One nice thing was that I noticed I had a total of three(3, hell yeah!) comments comments on the two recent posts. I don't want to sound cynical at all, it encourages one to see someone -does- read what you pour into this virtual space.

Dicle, that comment was very kind of you. I follow your blog with vital interest; and I actually have a couple of words to tell you about the post "Lame". Well, let me complete the advertisement session by giving her blog address: wintryepiphany.blogspot.com

Dear anonymous person who simply posted "pou na 'sai tora, anna" as a comment, cheers. It took me quite a while meddling with Google Translate to give up and google the phrase and realize it is actually a song. Did you mean the Goran Bregovic version? The piece isn't really too easy to find on the internet; and the one Bregovic version I could find online dies before the end, and quite soon after the song -in my humble opinion- actually becomes quite pleasant to listen to.

The third and last comment, also anonymous, asked me to post on this blog a certain piece of poetry I had written about two years ago. I happily oblige. I had entered a writing competition ("Jane Page" is the name of the contest, so chillax, I wasn't asked to put an actual person on the blog, just a poem submitted to the compe--ANYWAYS.) with that piece and had won an honorable mention. It might be the single poem that I actively worked on for weeks; my normal writing process involves a good deal of letting things brew on their own and come back to me when they are "ready". When writing the poem I will post below -which actually is the main reason I am making this entry- I changed and re-changed and re-changed every word, every punctuation mark and every single simple expression 'til I find it the best it could be.

Do I find it perfect? Of course not. I never did--though a year ago I thought it more beautiful than I do now, and two years ago I was astonished by having written it. Shortly, it is quite a valuable little thing to me, so please forgive me for having you spend the time to read it if you don't like it in the end. Here we go.

the Overheard Prayer

THIS PART IS ACTUALLY ONLY A LITTLE LETTER BUT I
WAS TOLD THAT YOU WANTED POEMS NOT POEMS AND LITTLE LETTERS
SO I PUT IT INTO LINES TO MAKE IT LOOK LIKE A POEM
THIS IS THE PRAYER OF SOMEONE
A PRAYER I HAVE OVERHEARD ACTUALLY
THE VERY FIRST ONE I HAVE EVER OVERHEARD
SINCE THE DAYS BEFORE THE PUNCTUATION MARKS AND THE INK AND THE PAPER EXISTED—
SINCE THE DAYS BEFORE THE DESIRES OF THE FLESH OF THE BOSS OF YOUR BANK ACCOUNT
OVERRULED THE EMOTIONAL HUNGER AND THE WIND

Signed:
GOD
THE BIGGEST LIE EVER or
THE ONE WHO LET THERE BE LIGHT)

I know that you had your all-poetic thoughts
about dreams
As for me, I guess I simply fear them.
But I like singing along to them
when I can’t go to sleep.

I know that you’re quite proud of yourself
when we go to sleep
I don’t need a haven though,
I don’t want one.
Yet every night, I join all the others
for a very warm imitation of death.

I know you’re in all these human crowds
to grant everyone company
I could’ve hated you for that
I could’ve denied you—
Only if you were not also
in the solitude of rain.

Yes, I know that you weren’t so sure
when you were making love
I know you too, in those darkest nights,
all alone and cold, in your bed of stars and straw
fear that day they will tell you
that all your beloved ones are now dead.
Don’t worry, though, I know you were crying when you
Destined them –us- to death.

And I know why you clouded the skies
But you didn’t hide the stars away.
I know that you didn’t want all these
Lonely little poet souls to die
They always left the last word
To you, after all.
So I thank you,

Kutay.

***

Gosh, I don't think I even like this thing anymore.