Words were dancing while grammar was singing in raspy voice. Words dreaming to break through the white sheet and wanting to peel off their black uniform. Unorganised words built agnostic paragraphs. Here a small bite of them. Taste it!
Saying same things in different languages does not make them new. Noticing this in my last entry got me feeling a little bit awkward. However, seeing something green within a grey zone growth some gleam inside me. And then I remembered a brick scene from school.
While words turned around the single human being’s world the wind was whispering. I remembered two boys. They were in the school garden, during the school closing due to the Friday ceremony. Little girls and boys were impatient to leave schools. It meant tear the uniforms – wear the play grounds. Inflated cheap balls, colourful pink dolls, black plastic guns, cards, games in mom’s smart phone, crisp, cracker, sweat gum, junk foods in a modern jungle; these are the frontiers of children’s freedom. I forgot the two boys like their teachers. Sorry boys! Yes, it was windy and parky. Turkish national anthem was sung. Students were saying “ Fear, not” all together out loudly, the two boys who were holding the flag were trembling. Of course they were not afraid. They are living souls not statue like grown residents. It is not easy to wait in stand at attention position. While their souls wanted to run, the choir was telling “fear, not”, the wind was biting their cheeks, muscles were burning, and the flag was sullen. It was not easy to stay motionless and the arms high up to hold the national flag. For me the scene was some kind of a sarcastic joke life made out of us. Flags and freedom, boredom, army and patriarchal ceremony. Sure, I am an opponent of crude ceremony but I will resist. They will play their game; I will play mine with words.
As a little present, I offer this poem to my blog reader. I wonder if these organised word, if this nice Turkish poem – does it make sense in English?! I wanted share. You will decide, if anyone is willing to share, his/her feedback flies freely and comes cheerily to me.
“‘Some leave from everything’
Someone says, plurality is rightfulness.
Some coffee in a jar,
Some bread within the box,
Some pain within man “.
“Herşeyden biraz kalır” diyor birileri,
Çoğulluk haklılıktır.
Kavanozda biraz kahve,
Kutuda biraz ekmek,
İnsanda biraz acı..
Turgut Uyar / Kayayı Delen İncir
