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Ergun Kabakçı
İngilizce Öğr.

My Colorless Words

I have the colorless words of the falling night which makes me a person whom I have been scared of. If I dare to write something, something this night, please, don’t think that I have come over this complex or paranoia. Yet, these colorless and shameless words are broken into pieces –in your solitude- under the umbrella of unconsciousness of my inner world, which, if happens, I am very afraid of falling into. Today, as I am writing these words, or while they are falling down from my tongue like tears from my vaporous eyes, I wanna see a different face in the mirror but I know that is almost impossible. Why almost? You are asking this question, ain’t you?

Uh, don’t dare to think over my sleepless words since they are walking in the shade of your beauty although you are not aware of them, although you don’t name the feeling under my coward skin. If you dared, if you dared to love me, to accept and hug my poor words, the drunken and broke I, you will hold a heart of an old scop who will have to dwell in the solitude of your fancy. Ahh, but you can’t, you can’t, because you dare not to love a man, who has nothing but his lonely f-words, who may tell lots of lies by dressing his ugly words like an old tailor. But, could you imagine to wake up a world similar to mine in which there is no sunlight to hear, there is no air to see, there is no sight to taste, there is no-one to smell, and there is nothing to touch. If you dared to wake up such a world, you would want to sleep again and wake up from that terrible and frightened dream. Yet, you would never feel the same sorrow as the one in the inner part of me which I was sure of killing once before I met you.

To be mistaken is the fate maybe, but I don’t know since, as you know, I do not believe in fate. I cannot believe in anything else since I saw you and my nameless words started to follow your fancy. Now, while signing these writings with my true blood which sings a tune for us without some words, I wanna bear some hope in my fearless image which will fall upon the world like a huge mist making anything invisible. Invisible to those who cannot read the quatrains of a poor self, who cannot breath in the happiness of their dear, and who will tell the story of mine to those who are death and will be given birth. If you let me, I would make a red rose from my colorless words to replace your heart with them so as to hinder others from touching your soul. If you let me, I would bring a piece of sky by making a plane from my miserable words so as to bless your blue eyes. If you let me, I would bring a man who I have known by birth and who I would bring from the world of death. If you let me… my colorless words… I, I would make the white moon cry because of loneliness while we are dancing in his vague and poetic light. But my words are getting weaker and weaker every day longing for dreams which remind me of the nights that we owned.

Now, in this darkness, I just beg for some favor which can be described only in French: de javu. And in this emptiness, in this play, I can only bear the heart of a child who is supposed to see the stars of long nights as blue and scary ghosts. I can only bear this kind of heart in this solitude which will remind every being of the meaningless life of us –you and me. Maybe your fancy can be a better indicator of this moment in which she will find the closest seat to take in my adorable loneliness. As Nazim wrote in his cruel and humid gaol (jail), “there is no chance to miss your life” even though you have taken the wrong way and you believe you have taken “the road not taken” like all the other people who want to believe and wish. Yet, all people unfortunately know and try to forget that they have taken the road which was a must for each of them. Don’t think you have missed that chance; you are also a member of this cult who wants to cry when under your feet all sinners like death roses are supposed to lie. If I had enough courage to tell you the truth, I would say many things without hiding behind these walls, but my shameless words will do this if my conscious falls asleep.

As you’ve come across so far, no lies I have uttered, no games I have played. But an old scop would say that words themselves are lies. Yet, you will have the right to believe in whatever you like, but as far as my words are concerned, you will choose to bear the decisions of others in your pure but ignorant heart. If I were a good scenarist, like Shakespeare, Pirandello, or Beckett, I would give you a significant role in my timeless and everlasting play. But I could not choose or find a perfect role that would fit your beauty which decides like a god upon my fate. And, If I were a famous poet, I would write a song without words which would tell the tune of my sore and mournful heart which can beat just for your name. But I could not find invisible words to put in my sleepless verses –not portrayed in words- which would define your sacred fancy. Last but not least, if I were an enigmatic magician, I would make you invisible to those whose eyes could apart you from me. But I could not dare to hide you from others since you deserved to be with people like an adorable and little kitty. However, if you believe that I could say the truth once, I would prefer pretending to be a good lover rather than living in black and white.

Ergun Kabakçı
İngilizce Öğr.
e154864@metu.edu.tr
31.05.2010 22:48
Görüntülenme Sayısı: 717