Seni Sevmeyi Ağır ödüyorum...

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

(Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;        For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings        That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

˜ Shakespeare

My Brother

I will never forgive my twin brother after abandoning me for a whole seven minutes inside my mother’s womb.

He left me there alone, terrified of the dark, floating like an astronaut in that viscous liquid, listening to how on the other side they were kissing and adoring him.

Those were the seven longest minutes of my life, and which destined him to be the first born and my mother’s favorite. After that, I would always make sure to leave places before Pablo; the bedroom, the house, school, the theater… even if it meant missing the end of a movie.

One day I got distracted and my brother left before I did, and while he was watching me with his adorable smile, a car came by and hit him.

When my twin brother died, my mother grabbed his body and yelled my name. I have not corrected her since then...

I died and my brother lived.

My Brother – Rafael Noboa

The Glance That Shattered Silence

In the kingdoms of sand, where the moon lies cracked like a blade, And palaces rise from bones of sages and ruins of caravans made, There ruled a Caliph named Yazan ibn Subh, Seated upon a throne of fire, guarded by jinn and the whispering hush.

And far in a rival land, across the cursed river's sweep, Lived Princess Zahra, whose eyes could make angels weep. Her grandfather had fallen to Yazan's kin in a war of old, So between their houses, hatred ran bitter and cold.

But hearts know no borders when first they ignite, They met in a souk where shadows flirt with light. Zahra was trading with spirits, in spells and silver dust, Yazan watched, enchanted—his duty undone by lust.

"Why stare so boldly, O stranger in royal thread?" She asked, voice laced with dread. "Because," he said, "I have never seen dawn in flesh, And now I must chase it, though the world turn to ash."

And the Spirits Moved in the Shadows

The enemies of love allied: Yazan’s kin from one side, And Zahra’s sorceress-mother from the other, steeped in pride. They summoned seers of stars, bound jinn in chains of fate, Wove spells to turn passion into a poisoned plate.

The markets burned with rumor, the alleys whispered of doom, Slaves were stirred to fury, rebels were led from gloom. The witches spat curses upon the Caliph's crown, Sowing chaos like wheat, hoping to strike him down.

A secret faction rose: The Sacred Shadow, sworn to dethrone, A band of fanatics who claimed justice but wanted the throne. They whispered of Yazan's sins and Zahra's foreign blood, Till the streets turned against them, like rivers turned to mud.

An End Written by Darkness, with Ink of Starlight

The rebels came at moonrise, like wolves with steel for teeth, Yazan stood on the palace roof, the wind a dying wreath. Below him, fire and fury, above, a sky too still, And in his hands, her final note—a prayer, a will.

"If you fall today, know you have my heart in your hand, If you flee, take me far in search of nameless land: No thrones. No homeland. Just you and I— The shadow and the prayer, beneath one sky."

They fought like myths, but myths too must die, Yazan fell with blade in hand, and Zahra fled with a cry. For forty years the sun refused to shine on that sand, Till travelers claimed to see two ghosts walk hand in hand.

They say on moonlit dunes, when the stars are brave, You may see a Caliph and his beloved beyond the grave. Still they dance, still they sing, love stronger than time, A tale told in sorrow, in rhythm, and rhyme.

Thus ends the scroll—but never the longing...

Divide me with fatigue,

for I need a sore chest to cry on. Like you, I have something made of glass, and the chests of those who are comfortable, are made of marble. Return to my world so that I may rest, for I love you even when I’m tired.

Olsun...

Deniz sen ol, ve ilk boğulan ben olacağım.

sen varış noktasısın, ve ilk gelen benim.

ev ol, ve ilk yaşayan ben olacağım.

şiir ol, ve ilk dinleyen benim.

Ne olursan ol,

ve sahip olduğum her şeyle senin olacağım.

Had I told the sea

What I felt for you

It would have left

it’s shores

It’s shells

And followed me

- Nizar Qabbani

I saw her alone,

emaciated, heavy-eyed, really tired,

I asked her "who do you love ?"

Who wounded your heart and torn it?

Who melted your eyes in the nights and made you restless?

She said: Do not blame him.

He doesn't know that my heart adores him,

I've secretly loved him for months,

My heart has died of yearning.

"Yorgunluğumu tüm geniş omuzlardan çıkardım

ve başımı arabanın camına yaslamayı seçtim."

love is out of fashion

poets have killed love they wrote so many things about it that no one believes them anymore i thinks it's very normal because true lovers suffer and remain silent.