a cafe in HongKong

a cold beer, a long slender glass

the name remains

I wonder if it is still there.


The Crumbs

in the midtown Manhattan


the sign will be gone soon

the memories will be washed out with it.



a music cafe on the ground floor

I heard Lenard Cohen’s voice for the first time there

Bonnie and Clyde poster on the wall

long gone, that time of my life.




memory works in funny way,

and I want to look at



My heart hardens sometimes…

my tightly sewn neck

didn’t allow turning my head

that was the moment

my mind gave in

and I sat there,



from time to time

my memory flew back to that parking lot

that morning

I was devastated

losing my power in control

which enabled me holding myself together for several months against that battle.


life is totally personal,

totally alone; we can expereince only ourselves

but sometimes,

the dread of the aloneness I felt that morning

sneaks into my body

and hardens my heart.


I knew that I was the one

didn’t ask anything to anyone

dying must be easier than confessing my weakness,

my sadness,

for me at that time,

maybe for me now too.


the old habits are hard to get rid of

I put on those without noticing,

even with all those self-development shits I’ve done,

I reach to that thick heavy coat in haste,

smelling like sorrow, giving more chills than warmth,

and bury my head deep under the worn familiar threads; shivering…


My moon




don’t want to ride this time



read some lines I wrote before the summer

you made my life sparkle in the mud.



not taking anything from anyone

just shine, that is okay


thanks for telling me that.


what I have pursued in my life might not be the right one for me

maybe I am losing the world and I am losing the people

maybe I am losing the valuable things that I am supposed to keep

maybe I released my grip too hastily to reach for nothing; the unworthy

but this is me; sad and stupid me. I couldn’t dissolve me into the timid water, called “supposed to”.


the moon every night different; ever changing but never evolving.

close or far,

you are there

gazing my presence

with your calm luminance; in the dark.


A day


loved Kusadasi,

met J’s dad by chance, really by chance?

suddenly people are too close,

need some breathing room.



does it matter?

hopes for hope

people forget

the wonderful stupidity that makes people alive.



like the moon

only full for a moment




you still there?

take me home

put me to sleep

the ultimate surrender

on your lap.


the warmth…

to my journey into the night,

curling up,

dessicating my existence

like those petals on your bookshelf.