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eve Nov 2020
what gets you through
will always pull you out
no matter how hard
it feels
what gets you through
will always pave a way
for you
what gets you through
will always be there
for you
for what you feel
and for what you are.
Janna Orpa Nov 2020
She always kept it in.
No matter how much was thrown in her way she took it in.
She carried a heavy burden on her tiny shoulders.
A burden that always anchored her down.
She cried in silence hoping no one would see her tears.
She didn’t want to trouble them with her wounds.  
She masked her wounds, waiting for them to heal.
The scars never fade.
She kept it in, she hid it well.
They failed to understand her pure heart.
Michael R Burch Oct 2020
Yahya Kemal Beyatli translations

Yahya Kemal Beyatli (1884-1958) was a Turkish poet, editor, columnist and historian, as well as a politician and diplomat. Born born Ahmet Âgâh, he wrote under the pen names Agâh Kemal, Esrar, Mehmet Agâh, and Süleyman Sadi. He served as Turkey’s ambassador to Poland, Portugal and Pakistan.



Sessiz Gemi (“Silent Ship”)
by Yahya Kemal Beyatli
loose translation by Nurgül Yayman and Michael R. Burch

for the refugees

The time to weigh anchor has come;
a ship departing harbor slips quietly out into the unknown,
cruising noiselessly, its occupants already ghosts.
No flourished handkerchiefs acknowledge their departure;
the landlocked mourners stand nurturing their grief,
scanning the bleak horizon, their eyes blurring...
Poor souls! Desperate hearts! But this is hardly the last ship departing!
There is always more pain to unload in this sorrowful life!
The hesitations of lovers and their belovèds are futile,
for they cannot know where the vanished are bound.
Many hopes must be quenched by the distant waves,
since years must pass, and no one returns from this journey.



Full Moon
by Yahya Kemal Beyatli
loose translation by Nurgül Yayman and Michael R. Burch

You are so lovely
the full moon just might
delight
in your rising,
as curious
and bright,
to vanquish night.

But what can a mortal man do,
dear,
but hope?
I’ll ponder your mysteries
and (hmmmm) try to
cope.

We both know
you have every right to say no.



The Music of the Snow
by Yahya Kemal Beyatli
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

This melody of a night lasting longer than a thousand years!
This music of the snow supposed to last for thousand years!

Sorrowful as the prayers of a secluded monastery,
It rises from a choir of a hundred voices!

As the *****’s harmonies resound profoundly,
I share the sufferings of Slavic grief.

Then my mind drifts far from this city, this era,
To the old records of Tanburi Cemil Bey.

Now I’m suddenly overjoyed as once again I hear,
With the ears of my heart, the purest sounds of Istanbul!

Thoughts of the snow and darkness depart me;
I keep them at bay all night with my dreams!

Translator’s notes: “Slavic grief” because Beyatli wrote this poem while in Warsaw, serving as Turkey’s ambassador to Poland, in 1927. Tanburi Cemil Bey was a Turkish composer. Keywords/Tags: Beyatli, Agah, Kemal, Esrar, Turkish, translation, Turkey, silent, ship, anchor, harbor, ghosts, grief, Istanbul, moon, music, snow
Norman Crane Sep 2020
how tranquil it would be
to sleep as deeply
as an anchor
at the bottom of the sea
Spadille Aug 2020
You are my anchor
Preventing me from drifting away

Securing me in place
Making me feel safe

I fear nothing now
Not even the harshest winds or currents

With you I am invincible
With you I can never go astray
Might contain some grammatical error
Gabs Aug 2020
I love you.

No. Shut up.
You don’t get to love me.
You don’t get to drown me in the sea of your fabricated passion,
Nor do you get to drag me through the gravel of your emotional inventions.
I see through your facade;
Your desperation to keep me close,
The fear of losing me rendering you incapable of rationality.
You convince yourself of these feelings
Yet in the process of fooling me,
You deceive yourself.
You ensnare me in the waves of your fiction,
But clasp your soul onto the crown of an anchor.

Keep lying to yourself.
Soon enough you’ll find yourself at the bottom of the ocean.
Sheila Greene May 2020
Anchor

Lifes a restless sea
Waves forever rolling
Tossing against shores
Storms **** Sunshine
Birth and death

Bareboat at sea
Weathering its moods
Tossed and withered
Exhausted endless battles
Losing never winning

The boat leaks through time
Land never blooms
Sea begins laughing
For victories sure to win
Hopeless begins drowning

Unexpectedly Sunshine breaks clouds
Horizons mirage
Dare hope
Drifts through sea
Hope springing life

No boat, ship in calm sea floats
Sunlight surrounded
Warm, happy being
Embracing pull, gravity
Shining Love, compassion

My anchor forever becomes
Keeps the sea calm, at bay
Happiness at last
Victories won, safety waits
Heart and souls have joined
Rainbows anchor.


© sd greene  5/30/17
We all need an anchor in the storms of life.
Zhavaed Haemaed May 2020
Through thick and thin,
       Through every clamoring din,
You have been my unfaltering constant
Victor Fuhrman Apr 2020
Old Anchor

An old anchor rests on a peaceful bay dock
Sixty years he has been aweigh
His iron is rusted from crown to his stock
As he dreams of his shining day

When his metal was young and his arms were strong
And his flukes and palms were grand
He steadied his ship and her souls the day long
As she docked in many a land

He knew many a rode and by cathead was stowed
As his ship traversed ocean and sea
And when mighty gales blowed, he held tight to his load
Making sure she would never break free

But with journeys and age and the turn of the page
Every story must come to an end
And this anchor, though sage, earned his pensioner’s wage
And now dreams on this dock, my friend

© Victor Fuhrman
This was inspired by an old anchor I saw on dock in Baltimore 4 years ago. It reminded me that I was approaching a stage in my life where retirement had to be considered.
Steve Page Apr 2020
'I hear the Father say,

"Your patience indeed is shallow
- but my restive child, rest and pray,
find in me your refuge,
I am all you need today."

The Lord is harbour. He is anchor.
And once this season passes,
once the channels open
He will be our compass

and we will sail.'
I used an old hymn as a catalyst:
Jesus Paid it All
– Elvina Hall, Maryland, USA (1865).

'I hear the Savior say,
“Thy strength indeed is small
Child of weakness, watch and pray
Find in Me thine all in all.”

Jesus paid it all, All to Him I owe
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.'
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