Koray Feyiz Poems

son, your beard pricks my face
was saying my mother, a poppy field
an unhappy water flowing through my word plain
a rattle, a mute bloodstone
...

the face of yours the life appended a little sign
is like a cinema you touched on my forehead
a cold soda between the two acts
the lyric voice of the gong ringing hourly
...

I am the skeleton of the memories jiggling to Beyoğlu
the heart is swinging in my chest of my dreams
my eyes are not hollow, my hands are still warm
I've found the song I need to sing
...

we were ash with you, not fire
most beautiful of two mouthed women
much slimy spinach of my meal
an alienation in each quiet
...

we used to shorten a street by talking
in a wine cup to each other
escaping the tempered sadness
to each other like lips
...

the rain is coming
you'd better open the umbrella
the knees of your dead father are aching
his finger is about to touch
...

Istanbul is wandering on my forehead
the seagulls are flying from my chest
the clouds of the longing on their eyes
the dream showers on my eyelashes
...

I closed my eyes against the trouble
a window was opened in front of it; I am able
to know you, sundries that are large and small
of the houses, the dead left behind us
...

your eyes are so silent, a butterfly
flowing inside me, like a velure river
an underground city, a station
where words by-pass
...

neither do I have a rosebay to touch
nor a sky to love
only I have is a street
that I pass through the revery
...