I am going berserk...
running images;
with my tramp memorization
at the edge of my pen
time is searching for rhyme
at verses
at the edge of my pen
rickety...
hangover...
knocks on the doors of my eyes
my brain is far away can not control
dreams are at the deep end
with every movement
more and more sinks into dead end
aching heart
the night is pitch-dark
it’s not going to light up
this trembles my tongue
panicking not to arose for the day
If I talk;
the words will fall into the abyss
my tired body
had done hard labour
more than the ants...
can not lift up where it collapsed
If I can escape into myself
Oh...
If I can get away from myself
Cosmos confederated
burden on my shoulders
If I can tear it into pieces
and reunite.


Poem by: Attila Elüstün15.12.2009 Taksim-Istanbul
Translation by: Gunsel Djemal-Bromley Road- London