Onur Sakarya

Onur is a young poet, whom I meet in Trukey, this is the country for art and poetry. I astonished to see that how come Turks the best fighters of the world at a time converted in to beautiful poets and artists. Onur is young but work hard for his likelihood but when he writes poetry, he is extremely soft person, what a combination. Please enjoy his poetry.


Concrete Unhappiness

Thanks my love
We were the bleeding side of a long farewell
Cigarette smoke and microphone screams in bad bell jars
We were a song written on a napkin, thatís how fleeting
Good Lord I have never even had my own room
Surrounded as I am by workers dungarees and razors
We were an arabesque crackle on an ever-growing radio
Mornings of snow sun out on the concrete
Evenings of foot smells and ah suffer away
We should have realised we were just two drunken hunchbacks

Thanks my love
Your photo is always there on the stitched side of my chest
We were a record playing so far from home
We the boxy room, the coal stove, the silence of exile
We should have stood in reverence before poverty herself

Thanks my love.
I am as tired as the cold round an eternal mountain
Loneliness akin to a sound shouted into a buildingís air shaft
I am as finished as the cold that time forms round a photograph
We froze, froze: gluelike sorrow always stuck to our hearts

Unfortunately my love,
We believed in this concrete that holds unhappiness captive

Translated by Neil P. Doherty


Busman, I guess you didn't recognise me
I'm Kudret who will get off on somewhere available.
Wherever I see somewhere available
Suddenly I scratch it.
My father had left me when I was so little
He wasn't totally wrong
My body was leaning towards to left a little

Busman, Don't play this song anymore
I wear ties, but I beat hard
I used to be an officer but I was invalided out.
I had a wife, a child, a house
alcholod swallowed my wife
She swallowed the child
Tedaş swallowed the house
when it hits 7 in the afternoon
I haunt the ale house

My name is Kudret
wherever I see somewhere available
Suddenly I scratch it.
There was a lady called Nimet, you know
she always gets on half past eight
she's blonde, she's delusional
but a bit of alright
I've never seen her getting off on somewhere available

Busman , turn on the air conditioner we're stewed
I have no friend but booze
maybe Fikret the blabbermouth from ale house
I am a human, I cry from time to time too
bone, nerve, muscle and flesh
and dirt
arrogance is glued to our bodies

Humans are made up of a breath

Translated by «ağatay «alışkan


when i put you in quotes, the birds go crazy
there be no day if pink doesn't flow through me
fall comes from a very long farewell
somebody gets on the ferry, somebody gets off
everybody passes through each other
only we don't pass, everything concretizes when we hug
everything mutates when we make love
a dining table becomes a black cat and settles on the roof
letís not make birds go crazy, let's not break their washing machines
letís not smoke outside the emergency exits

I flip the ale house upside down, it becomes a cloud of illusion
I drink another bottle of wine, my past scratches back of my head
there be no day if the last bus doesn't pass through me
we walk for kilometers, I take you to your home and return to darkness
I take you to your home and jump off from bridges
I take you to your home and let your voice slip from my hands suddenly
You are looking at the taxi drivers from the balcony
You are looking at the wrinkled hands
You are looking at the coziness of tobacco sellers
Then you turn and look at my devotion to you

Yours is such a glance that
Your eyes pour raki to my eyes

Translated by «ağatay «alışkan

Romeo Paradiso

Will these fights end that load red insanity to our back? I'm bleeding.
I'm bleeding. I'm the trembling throat of a ram downloaded from the sky for you
Darling, i don't know, drill my heart, as before, light should touch the tar

Let all the ports fall down
Expectancy is the purple defeat that injected into the vein
Let's not get lost
Let's go to the mountains where crazy hearts party at the summit

Oh believe me, life is too hard
Bills and responsibilities
I understand.
Humming, public transport fatigue, scary sleep
I understand.
But I strangled the storm
I silenced the earthquake scream
I scared the iron
Remember us
Let's go to the forests where warm silence dances on the ears

I burned the pages
The pages about Romeo Paradiso
This is not my fault
İt's not our fault
My God, what did we do to you?


My Voice | Poetry At Our Time | In The Name Of Poetry | Editor's Choice | Our Masters
Who We Are | Back Issues | Submission | Contact Us | Home