Poems by Mevlut Ceylan 

An Awkward End

I tell you I

will haunt and jab

the heart's mind

I tell you

love is a global movement

of the soul's solitude

I tell you I as an absentee

on the move, the wanderer

who is condemned to death

by a fly in the nose

*   *   *   *   *

Poetry

is gift

poetry is pollen

*   *   *   *   *

The Election

the vultures and politicians

are the same

they call for the grave-diggers

and I gather flowers

*   *   *   *   *

The Border

I talk to myself

when boundaries of my heart

begin to melt

*   *   *   *   *

The Spring

when a fallen tree blossoms again

I hold my breath as river

and fog roll into one

*   *   *   *   *

The Song

here look at the orphan

who talks to the birds discreetly

who murmurs love songs and leans

back against a gravestone

AK47

my fortune rides on a snow flake

says my sorcerer and I burst into

laughter before the barrel of the AK47

*   *   *   *   *