I LEAVE YOU NOW

I feel dizzy of this fast 

revolving 

troubled mind.

I could not stand the sound 

of the wind whistling 

when time passes by me, 

with its oozing glamour; for the redolence
of such adoration 

makes leaves sigh with eyes rolling

of the unpleasant smell of yesterday.

Now, I'm choked 

by the  grip of silence

as I am latched on the decaying fringe

of sprouting sorrow, wrapped with 

our undefined feelings like when 

high and low pressures meet to spark 

a lightning bolt of displeasure

and the sky shouts out loud 

its deafening thunder

as your abhorrence 

to my quiet heart.

But to  think that I would fight back, 

no, for I would droop my head humbly
and turn my back  away.

I know that you won't  hold me
to stay and I will just go

and while I am gone you won't see 

how I shoulder  the boulders 

of detestation which you
asked me to pick up 

as my heavy load
pinning me to a countless fall.

WORDS ON THE MIRROR

*English version of the poem, SURAT ITI SARMING.
_____________________________________________

“Only you,” my index finger wrote

on the foggy wall of the bathroom

while I was washing you off my body.

The strands of water

above my head were warm

but I was freezing

as I watched the words

slowly melting like tears

flowing down towards the drain.

I know, flowers don't blossom for us

unlike they used to and I could no longer

dress February with 

the fragrant garments of May.

In our room, the wind

comes an goes

through the window like a robber

who steals piece by piece the scent

of love we have made.

But the power of the wind and water

couldn't sneak into this heart

and mind to remove your memory

or to let the pages of the calendar fly

with the rest of the beautiful may of February

you left me behind.

PARTING

It is still warm in the strands  of this poem

The flying kiss you blew to me on that day our path

Had to be ripped apart by two roads.

I always feel on my lips, 

On my cheeks,

On the forehead of every  entombed afternoon,

Or on each blossoming dawn,

Its tenderness and aroma 

Which is amalgamated with the breeze.

I have gone too far, maybe as distant 

As you have reached

And if I have to look back to the place where

Our handclasp had loosened, I could 

No longer see the two shadows

Which were pulled apart,

The darkness of this forest swallowed me

And the valleys and hills I passed by 

Have buried the place.

But in my every step and yours,

The memory engulfs me stronger 

And I disclose, 

Your presence keeps smoldering.

To tell you, I used to relate 

You to the beauty of flowers-

From budding to blooming; 

To the flawless and fog-skirted

Mountains or their ears with rainbow rings.

But now, your face, your everything,

The typical skin of creation does not

Have ample figurative panorama to spell you out.

Your substance has gone so deep now,

Deeper than the pots we have accustomed

To make when we were young

By dipping our dirty elbows in the sand

To make hollows, filling them up

With our playfulness and laughters.

Your memento is the only spring

That can reach the eye-sucking bottom

Of this parching  abyss of my heart.