Mustafa Ergin Kılıç


 

 

(All of these poems have been translated from Turkish by Koray Feyiz)



You shall not live untruly, true love!


The deceased poet is neither bathed, nor does the poem stain the poet…

you have talked
thus flattening the hills of my voice

the valley is a sigh of that lowland
over there

those deadlock rocks are
the world after you

mountains are wilting
of a flower

the brooch you put on your chest
is what freshens bronchi

how long can a human being
endure to live with a gelignite

sun flower wears the soil out
wheat gives a meaning

I see the nuance between flesh and skin
when you kiss me

life’s short
man is too long to live through





Snotty spring!

I asked what he expects from life
he said the life itself

this evening the ant moved
not a wheat but sugar to home

crescent clung to water, then got out
and got lost among the reeds
autumn couldn’t be found, without looking for it!

I became a crime, and committed myself to life!

Hey, snotty spring!
why do the street lamps shine
in a full green dead city

two null sets create a universe
when they get together

a girl covers her head
with a flowered kerchief





Coupling point

any clinking in you
became a smash for me

as horizon line gets wiped out
you draw a line on my forehead

as I scream the space
you
rub my aching voice

my heart is shaken faster than milk
time gets coagulates more than blood
if man breathes this alone weather
he even decays before death

June strikes like a match
a woman gets out
from my chest like July
my wound is covered by a mandarin peel

every tree offers its kindle
its wound for me

solitude of man becomes love
a coupling point





Warming

I am moving, I am moving
come and fill-in yourself …

yesterday, I escaped from me
and realized I arrived in you

we ate cherry, gathered mint
smelt each other
only with eyes

like sesame you were
standing in front of me
a sense on bagel
fully rounded
when curled in solitude

you peeled an apple
and I peeled one
we were shy, and laughed together

two sharpened knives
to be stuck
we sought a haft along time
in ourselves

we glanced each other
mother naked
which warmed us up






Edge

Love greening in quietness does not get stuck in September…

we sat on the edge of a cliff
the same blood inside made of bronze
comprehended from warmth of our hands

we didn’t even kiss
not to scare the birds away

as we glanced each other
closed a crack of a crock

we were just a dry leaf, in full green inside
we looked rain, we burnt rain

life is as long as a gap for a sip
and it is cracked and it is not kissed

we learnt from goldfish
to write haiku
when we saw a fish drinking sea

a child with tea scent pass through us
while sleeping with close cheeks

the tea was brewed and brought
and our eyes moistened

and sailed from
one another’s cheek




What is needed for living

your eyes open, jewelry bazaar closes …

I am spread around the life
like a guest sheet gathered in one night
stretched trough the obscurity
fazing the arrows

I watch the water, the pain relieves
weight of the water, dead water for me
deafness for me

I wonder who lifts dead leaves
other than wind
how can it be buried, if it dies
the noise of daphne heart of man

life is a straight line actually
it warps as we live
with this great dark gas lamp
how long more it pours its grief

ironstone waits for the day to spark
the imperative does not comply in my flesh
the hedgehog rolling inside me

my voice irritates like a gun
I do not shot mistakenly
they swing but I don’t skip to my childhood
childhood is not jewelry but shoeshine box

my laundry got dried
my heart in long washing programs
becalming the dry blackfrost
in its body
and rinsed in life

I need rain, I need cowpea
noise of a leaf in the root
when it drops
appearance of a sod
not inclining its head

I need a pair of words, but a phrase
not leaving each one

I need a cup of old arrack
a Neşet Ertaş song





Sense

noctivagant flower combed the morning sun
found its echo missing in the brown pastel paints
at the mountains

only word you wrote on the mirror
coincided with my lips

I leaned my face to the old rose pillow
it blossomed

your sweetie
is the one rejoicing my childhood
on a chair

I took some cotton
your cuts looked
I bled some
it broke
your cotton looked
it was shed some
some me

cloth couldn’t express itself
to the scissors waiting for it

I died and
no sense made out





Calculus*

we studied calculus, a crew-cut love
I used to derivate words about derivative
to the poetry basin from Rilke
you would refuge to Nietzsche
about limit
we would combine in function
life is a parabolic curve
after childhood, into solitude does it curve

you taught me
to see the flower in sunflower seed
to reach the sun from sunflower seed
I taught you
to knit young virginity
from corn silks

your lips are on the pages
of this book with wet ink
when you were turning it over
a heart full in the love remnant

you woke up early from love
I steeped the tea with the rain water!
I would get the apple from worm
and earth from earthworm

I would gather in you
with inability of a violin with no wire

(*: maths)





Se(i)n(e) river

Human who sold his youth to loneliness!
you need to love to see…

leaf fades and branch ceases
these winds sharpens my life
my voice is twisted in yours
it is stress

this is alone sleep, this symptom is haze bird
it would become a scream
but do not shout
it is going

this is a bunch of life
that I open to the lonely tables
I was scared of me
that I escaped into guardrail of your heart

approach of a boat to the shore
closing edges of your eyes
the life growing from your tear

cheers the spring, when you drop its branch
my skin gets lost in yours
my wafer-thin lips gets coloured

pomegranate looks to cherry, and cherry to plum
plum to the crispness in the sky
it says "the new world "
when it sees se(i)n(e)





Sibel

your soul is a ruffled skirt of a high-school girl
did the Pavese books in your chest soften your heart

how can a spike distinguish in a wheat field
a church does not mean much for Vatican
but Vatican much for a church

you hurt, water pass, you pass, water hurts
the only way, to daze the water as you kiss
to hurt the water as you pour
self-flowing water does not move but the poured one!

Sibel, your voice is cracker stick
your voice a wind blowing warm in the sand
you are rest in the body, you are the waist

you stare out of the window, and birds crowd on the frame
as you ignore them, they offend

you are the lava in my eyes, love in my voice
do not despise the match, it is from tree
grief has seen the forest, the greens

how can I hold a city without you
sea attracts the land and water attracts the shout
butt crouches at the wall base
waits for a step to blow out
the grass, dividing the stone astonishing with itself
conflicting with itself, gets cold of itsel

Sibel, if you know to kiss a woman
her wounds recover
noble breath in sphinx gets out as a stone is robed
a case keeps the soul in body
that is the breastbone of a woman

love is a zero index, that you exist as it beats
but numerical axis in very deed
standing in the middle of the life
but not decreasing, always raising the grief

Sibel, I gave my spine to a mollusk 
and realized it couldn’t stand the life
kiss my node, kiss my hope and go
being together ends love
like a gap between verses
for poetry fellowship verses may get close, not knees
scar of one may suit the knee of other first

you seek forest but in these bald mountains
cities are in flood with no rains

Sibel, taking the ball to sweater, a pair of hands
an apple to tart, floor to pastry
any bead is charm on you
pressure of ice loosens, when touched

departure will not end
there will be no road to go, go, go and sometimes come
like a inspire of a poet, and sometimes poor
like the fall of a poem to the mind
remind that dream does not chill

you are the virgin water, the well
you are the rope, wrapping around
a water-thin sense, an ace
a tree hangs itself on a man
remind, what palm means to hand, you are that for me

Sibel, do not be one of them not reaching anywhere at fifty
not each of those un-rich in love until fifty
dying on bridge of fifty without dying for love





Requiem Festival

I went to the age of sorrow through the fossils
and learnt mingling with the earth from the dead

I became darken, rained it
the rain fell, fell and kissed

I cried separately on each shoulder
I dropped differently on each cheek

I crosschecked the life
there was always a spare
me

The ink didn’t run out, didn’t run out
it extended the wallpapers
the requiems it couldn’t press voice on

For its brightness cried the quicksilver
for itself, for its weight
for its deafness zinc

The all, the all is this
I wanted reduction for my life my god
I wanted spirit to narcotize my heart

Because the scab was lifted
the scab of
the earth
the wound


Copyright © 2012 Mustafa Ergin Kılıç
 

Mustafa Ergin Kılıç


 

MUSTAFA ERGİN KILIÇ
(Translated from Turkish by Koray Feyiz)

MUSTAFA ERGİN KILIÇ was born on 29 September 1977 in Ankara. He graduated from the Department of Minging Engineering at the Middle East Technical University in 2001.

He began composing poetry in 1994. His first poems were published in magazines such as Kuzey Yıldızı, Budala, Yom Sanat after 2000.

In the following years, his poems, reviews on poetry, arguments and interrogation files appeared in magazines such as Edebiyat ve Eleştiri, Cumhuriyet Kitap, Varlık, Yasakmeyve, Yeni Yazı, Edebiyat Ortamı, Özgür Edebiyat, Dize, Mühür, Şiiri Özlüyorum, Deliler Teknesi, Patika, Hayal, Eliz.

Between the years 2001 and 2010, he visited more than 40 countries all around the world. He processed his experiences and practices and various cultural backgrounds he obtained from South Africa, Middle East, Far East and Europe geographies into poetry utilizing them in his own poetry area.

He is recognized among the young poets of the 2000s as creating his own poetry expression with unique images, renewing and developing his poetry run day by day, making poetical the lowest aspects of life, revealing polysemy of words, having connotation richness, and writing his poems on a wide geography.

Between 2005 and 2009, he worked as the editor and publishing board member of Patika Edebiyat Journal.

In 2009, Vural published Modern Elit Dinamik Şiir Bildirgesi (Modern Elite Dynamic Poetry Declaration) in January - February issue of Şiir Özlüyorum Magazine. On the scope of the 4th International Çukurova Literature Days, he submitted his poetry declaration.

Modern Elite Poetry Declaration was held under the microscope and selected as file subject in the 4th issue, May-June 2011, of Papirüs Magazine.

He prepares now Papirüs for publication, which was first published in June 1966 by Cemal Süreya (only four issues; 47 issues between June 1966 and May 1970, 2 issues between 1980 and 1981), in an up-to-date version, new face and vision beginning from November-December 2010.

He prepares the Poetry Year Book for ŞİMŞİİR 2011 AĞACI (POEMS 2011 TREE).

He edits the Table (Masa da Masaymış Ha!) narrative essays (reminding of Edip Cansever) for each issue of Papirüs.

His poems have been translated into English.

AWARDS

  • Homeros Awards 2010 / Kemal Özer Poetry Award (3rd)
  • 2008 Yılmaz Güney Poetry Award
  • Homeros Awards 2007 / Attila İlhan Poetry Award  (Honourable Mention)
  • 7. Safranbolu International 2006 Film Festival Poetry Award  (2nd)
  • 2006 Hasan Bayrı Poetry Award  (3rd)
  • 2nd Eskişehir 2006 Yunus Emre Poetry Award  (Mention)
  • Kocaeli University 2006 Youth Poetry Award  (Selection Committee Special Award)

BOOKS

  1. Yer Yara Kabuğu, Yasakmeyve, October 2009
  2. Gam Kuşağı, Şiirden Publications, March 2008
  3. Desibel, Başak Publications, May 2007
  4. Beş Duyum, Kül Sanat Publications, November 2006
  5. Lâlfabe, Tay Publications, September 2006