I was born as a clown but nobody could see
that was my true face

They laughed and laughed and laughed
while they looked at me

and when the laughing was over
They wanted to see what was behind

I was born as a clown and nobody could see
that was my true face

From the way you say Hello
It is as if you're someone else today

From the way you muted
It's as if you were so tired yesterday

From the way I slept
it's as if I could have been  goaded
to revolve against the clock only if
I could dance
holding the mirage of your arms

but not even once have I deserted the
warrior dreams of a mystic healer    reserved to us along three cities

From the way of knowing
our story or sound or breath
I trust as always
and behold you engraved
still in the mundaneness of this shimmering starlight
keeping the beauty of its trail
as an illuminating code of truth of all worlds
Knowing perfectly where I truely stand

It is impossible not to sense the closeness
each time I close my eyes

Would that be closer than skins untouching ?

The gap: causing the desireless stress of presence

of the other
because of itself

My mind  
Discloses
****

For what
We celebrate is
a precision of love
made of
our wordless waves
that subtly replaces
and sculpts my
gross lines
to their
primordial

We are transparent
space casts its chassis
Made of us
Formats
our deserted shells

as we fuse
to fit in things
Color of sound
now as big as
its encapsulating hall
We are time only
to heal

i am good is a place
of peace and bliss
i am good is a place where
cells replace to their primordial
and i am good
is no more wonder
than when he says
i am good
when i learn
it’s as easy as
to swap
the not good
to its antonym
like within a time
as long as
a slip of the tongue
and i am good
once again
because of what he says
because of what i am

…
yes
we are good but
are you also good??
…

good is a place
not at the turn of an age / any age
in reality there is no age
there has never been a yuga
after Mahabharata

if you don’t want to
you don’t stay
in what has never been
in what will never end

there is no count for
one thing to end and for
another thing to start
no silly things like that!

there is no place
for a savior one
to show up

these are all residues
of a delusional mind
an anthropogenic
pollutant is expectation
that only awaits
and awaits
for a tomorrow
to resolve
a past! ?!?

which tomorrow?
which past?
no silly things like that
and
may you be
depressed by that!

always
a you
who values thisrthat
always
a you
who cannot be
whereas it
is one step
and not ahead
to here and now
to i
and no

no one can tell you
it is your path
it is your step
…
cause
we already are
and we have always been
here
enlightened in Satya
and we have always been
love

and
now

for
‘As life fades…’
I’ve seen
an older face
through or
made of
lines
of gravity
with which
I am now
friends

this way
I surpass
just as
a psychic
tells and
embrace
the truth of
the self
beyond
the heavenly
and its
reverse
beyond
all that
persisting

polarity

Nah
we haven’t got adorning words
to describe which
cell memories awaken
by a lukewarm light
at nights
shaping these metallic lines
of a suggestion of
a temporarily
deserted  terrace
sticking out of
an apartment
storey of a
metropolis
Seagull

A shrill
Middling well
that just one star
Once
Horizontal
to my gaze
Piercing
Walls of
Futile
Dreams
Now

Once I was a pretty girl
Made of a big leaf
and a strong root
that grew to
fields of fruit
On each of my birthdays
I used to wear a dress
made of yellow flowers

I stayed so
Thinking to be
As strong but
Unable to walk
Like a tree
Or a tree
until
Until
I met he

He
who called me She
He a true
Human Being
He a true man
One of the strongest
Gentlest
Shiniest
Of its kind
dared to pluck
Me fully
Completely
For whom
I converted
From
A plant
To
As he says:
She

I walked the depths of
Mud hand in hand
With he
by which
my feet shaped
To toes
soft and pinky

He teach me
How to step
On the
Crystal shiny
Water smooth
Rocks
Rocks passaging
A delirious rush
Of dizzying fall
Only by the sound of
Such gobbly bubbly
turbulence
Sound of vertigo
He holds
My arm
Needles to ask
In sync fit time
He says
I help She
Because she is not
As strong as ….

Never using the word
Weak
Face of gentleness
With coal black
crystal
Shiny eyes
A smile like buddha
No he cannot hide
And no why would
He
When hide
İs only
İn my tongue

As he holds me
I feel light
Clearing my sight
As if on the moon
Defeating gravity
And voluntarily
Fully
Am
The She
For
He

In my terms
For Once  
enjoying
the Weak
Beautifully

Flying
By his strong palms
He who raised me to the
Blue of freest skies
Made of the joy of lovers
Brought me
to a cleanest Lagoons
A Queen's bath on another
Plane from where suns shine
Their brightest
to heal our worlds

And Lovers make love
As we walk hand in hand
Each of a stumble of mine
As if  a pure longing to touch
him longer
While i bathe ****
he politely looks the other side
And picks a blood red bloom
for me

Like a nature you used to be
And still are
A gift for you  
he says  by his light
Shining the purest
without any expectation

A Flower once gifted to Shiva
She and he now
Linga
She and he now
As all pray
to be a blessing of love
Maybe a dream
Maybe still here or there
Maybe the color of the sunset
on a new moon day
….

For he
He who warmed my heart today
He made of divine light
He who never will read my lines
Lines made of words
But for he
He who calls me She
He who I know
already Knows
He who
held my hand
once
on a new moon day.

a gypsy of changing face
says:
‘I know
you have been living
in this land
long
very very long
so will you please tell me
how long’

my first time !  I reply
just arrived - few days ago
all details in a flash...

But he ignores
and repeats
the same

Do I not really
understand
as I smile
and thank him politely?

Yes
It all sounds so holy
just like this cow
visiting
each and every
day
while I write
in the same cafe

Really! :) yes
yes
Can you imagine!? :)
She just comes to watch
oh No … not hungry
the owner says
as if everyone
knows but me
I explain
Jokingly

while I secretly wish
wish for what he says:

‘You have the same fire
of an indian woman
in your eyes
a woman that never dies
until she brings healing
Healing
and something more’
… he says

And I babble
babble on

He and I
On a thin line
Playing
A dangling
game of
Oh the silly me’s
questioning
as if s
reasoning
residues of
habits

so Maybe...
I say for the
last time
And forget

Forget
to only live
the thing
with him

unknowing

and I look up
to see

to see
the me
in his
fiery

but he

He is not even
looking

Me is
one point just
beyond  a holy

We - union of three

Inversed
to match
to a combined path
of the ever known

which
I used to call unknown
which now makes
me
mute alone

Enjoy yourself
All my teachers say
So I go to the beach
for a chat
during sunset
I meet a boy
His eyes as  if
from an epic
I know
The wind is what he truly plays
I watch him
change the shade
which now gently displays
along the corners of
the boulders made
of the diamond
of the sun to
perpetually shine
its’ brightest
through the corals
of the hazy mind
I cannot hear
what he says
but listen to see
more of his
enchanting face
and keep this
as a beautiful
memory
of romance
or a dream
delicately preserved
for times after sun sets.

It was
the grace
of a daisy
With 23
that teach me
on this blessed
new day
that it shall not matter
to start counting
from
I love you
or
I love me
The revealed is
One
and the same
Divine reason
only

Then I opened my eyes
how many years have I been a warrior as such
how many generations has passed through my lines
Unknowing
what is not important for my meditation
such questions of how many
just a reciprocal of the mundane worry
it was less than a moment
moment
as long as the age of universe
the warrior
they said
Then I opened my eyes
I opened my eyes and saw a tree I was
facing a warrior just
we melted into each other
becoming the core of material
knowingly
becoming one
lovingly
shall that stay
eternally
as my heart flows
towards I
I
just a tree
now.