Mardin’in Selçuklu camilerinden.
Bu zarif yapılara biz de hakettikleri gibi zarafetle, incelikle bakabilseydik…
Posts tagged ‘cities’
My quiet London
Lincoln’s Inn Fields ChAPEL
“… there was not a quieter spot in England than this. In all the hundreds of years since London was built, it has not been able to sweep its roaring tide over that little island of quiet.”
from LONDON THE BIOGRAPHY by Peter Ackroyd
Come close. I’ll tell you what the Sun, the Wind, the Cold and the Rain have done to me. First they decided to fade my colour away. Then they opened holes, drew lines on my skin. Eventually they cracked it into pieces and let them fall apart. Day by day, the weak and the trembling pieces left me one after another. Some resisted. But the hard working Wind took them away with a final touch. After that, they started working on my very flesh. How patient they were… First came the Cold, then the Sun, and the Cold again. With the help of Time, they managed to wear out my remaining layers one by one. I wasn’t that strong after all. I was the stable one, you know, but they were always on the move; coming and going with perfect timing. What was left behind was my core, open to all, showing how I was made, how I was put together; my very ‘self’.
I don’t remember when was the last time I saw the Snow; but if it were to visit me, I am sure it would be more gentle than the rest. It would even cover and protect me for a while.
Anyway, so here I am looking a bit ‘changed’. However at the end of the day I am not angry with the ones who did this to me… I even forgive them even though they don’t need me to. I accept it. I accept the change. Whatever happened was meant to happen that way, that specific way. So I accept it, and can now confess that actually loved every bit of it.
So must you.
.
THE STORY of a VENETIAN WALL
…
size kendimden bahsediyorum doktor
“biraz yağmur kimseyi incitmez”.
.
iyi ruhların arasında dolaşan
bir gölgeden sözediyorum
acıdan çatlamış kalbi
soğuğa dayanıklı kılan
bir bilgiden
terkedilmiş şizofrenleri
kendine çeken vadiden
keşişlerin hüznünden
ve bir aşk yüzünden
ayları karıştran kişinin
tababeti ruhiyesinden
.
size kendimden bahsediyorum doktor
ben kar yağarken ıslanmam.
.
benim öbür adım rüzgar
uğradığım orman
değdiğim kalb uğuldar.
.
de ki gayb seferinde kaybolmuşum
yola haritasız çıkanların
yıldızları ve münhal yüzleri okuyan
şarkısını unutmuşum
sönmüş taşıdığım ateşle beraber
yaz günleri, uğruna okul kundakladığım
ayinler.
.
de ki bulunur elbet
iyi bir hal üzre kaybolan kişi.
.
meğer anka değil biganeymişim
kalbim kendine varmadıkça
bitmezmiş yolum, divaneymişim
uyardı melekler rüknettinmişim
uyandım bir namaz yürür önümde.
.
benim de buharım tüterdi doktor
bir zaman, aşktan bahsedilince.
.
eve annesiz dönen çocukların
diline musallat olan
ve hazin bir ırmağın
geçerken ışıttığı kentlerin
diline musallat olan
akşamları baharın
ıslattığı mezarın
diline musallat olan
.
bu dünyayı severken
kalbine ağrılar saplanan kişiye
düşlerin kimyasından
şifalı otlar çıkaran
.
ben bir ilahi söylüyorum doktor
ay vakti, dantel kızların
diline musallat olan
…
su yükseliyor
iyi ki gemideyiz rüknettin
iyi ki senin öbür adın rüzgar
iyi ki mevsimden mevsime bir yol
yani inanan bir kalbin var.
…
Rüknettin’in Kalbi İçin Kehanetler , KEMal Sayar
As promised, I’m back with more street art from London. Here are some of my favourites, but you can see more in my new portfolio. I hope you find things that inspire you :)
Just came back from London and wanted to share this with you. I did a small walk around Brick Lane, photographing London’s fascinating street art. This fantastic mural is by Puerto Rican artist Alexis Diaz. It’s an Elephant – Octopus which I think is purely beautiful.
I will post more street art of London in the coming days.
HASANKEYF
Zeynel Bey Türbesi
Şimdiye kadar gördüğüm en etkileyici yapılardan biri. Tek başına mimarisi değil onu güzel yapan, 15.yy’dan bu yana sırtını dayadığı muhteşem Hasankeyf, tarifi zor bir atmosfer; insanın kalbini titreten cinsten, zarafeti ve biraz da boynu büküklüğü…
“He realized that all his life he had been a nobody to everyone. What he now felt was the fear of his own oblivion. It was as though he did not exist.”
Perfume : The Story of a Murderer