Two Songs

Two Songs
1.
Sex, as they harshly call it,
I fell into this morning
at ten o'clock, a drizzling hour
of traffic and wet newspapers.
I thought of him who yesterday
clearly didn't
turn me into a hot field
read for plowing,
and longing for that young man
pierced to the roots
bathing every vein, etc.
All day he appears to me
touchingly desirable,
a prize one could wreck one's peace for.
I'd call it love if love
didn't take so many years
but lust too is a jewel
a sweet flower and what
pure happiness to know
all our high-toned questions
breed in a lively animal.
2.
That "old last act"!
And yet sometimes
all seems post coitum triste
and I a mere bystander.
Somebody else is going off,
getting shot to the moon.
Or a moon-race!
Split seconds later
my opposite number lands
I make it--
We lie fainting together
at a crater-edge
heavy as mercury in our moonsuits
till he speaks--
in a different language
yet one I've picked up
through cultural exchanges...
we murmur the first moonwords:
Spasibo.Thanks.O.K.
--Adrienne Rich

Soguyu seviyorum, cunku bana yasadigimi hatirlatiyor.

Icimden bagirmak geliyor

Ali'dir Sahim.

Icim kopuyor....

Herkes kendi bahcesinle ugrassa....

sizlayan yaralar...

Badum, Badum

Spirals out of control.

Darkness

Sleep at nine p.m.? Where did my night carnivorous habits go to?

I have in one way or another seem to have lost touch with reality, refusing to be in my dream land, I'm drifting towards an abyss that's not entirely a stranger to me. Well...clear skies should help me find the cure, then...perhaps.

Scent

Screams

Whispers