THIS IS A PAIR OF SCISSORS

dearest birds

I am not as I was, I am as I was

those were the times when nothing yet had a name

I thought if I closed my eyes I became invisible

just a pencil and paper was enough I could float in mid-air

the charm of doing ordinary simple things as if they were secret

excitement of wiping the blackboard erase write erase write learn and forget

in history lessons, it was the horses I pitied most.

there were traps and pleasant pathways

the smell of smoke on the street soot and rust had a calming side

we watched as the world moved slowly

ıt turns out asters carried a world within themselves

sometimes the wind brought gifts for those who were good

from distant lands a shiny silver comb a small box filled with pearls and water

we believed kindness would conquer

this is a pair of scissors

I was among those who failed without a makeup exam

behind the glass I wanted things that would hurt me

we didn't know what we carried under our clothes

everything is measured and calculated

behind the large trees coming out visible is caught

we would hide and they couldn't find us

there was obvious shamelessness in these things happening under the sun

it was very hot the hottest day of that summer the sky was cloudless

no rain had fallen for a long time everything was dry

my mouth filled with sand

summer never came winter never came spring never came birds never came

animals lost their way

deer cut their hair at the skirts of the red mountain

I thought normal sensible ordinary people would somehow prevent this

in a corner I waited quietly to heal

both familiar and foreign both attached and detached

I find myself struggling with the complex web of seeing many places as home

I saw that small house collapsing

even though I left a part of me stayed there

broken flowered porcelain geometric blue

then again I return to where I was

as a child one doesn’t know how much sadness awaits

I am not as I was I am as I was

maybe these were things always happening everywhere

beautiful waters will wash me bitter herbs will heal me

tiny ant tiny ant slender waist slender waist

said come to me slenderly

said said said said

those were the times when nothing yet had a name                                                            the smell of smoke on the street soot and rust had a calming side                                                                  this is a pair of scissors

there was obvious shamelessness in these things happening under 

the sun                                                                               both familiar and foreign both attached and detached                                                                                                           I am not as I was I am as I was

April 09 - May 09, 2025 Galeri Nev Istanbul