Selcans Home

A Woman in Deserted Streets Then a drop of water fell to the earth Orphaned sky, clouds weeping As the leaves sway on the branches A woman was coming alive in the deserted streets The heel of his shoe echoed But his own voice had never been so loud He rebelled against the stone walls with his loneliness A woman defied the deserted streets Maybe things didn't work out the way he wanted them to. Like yesterday, like today, he would be gone. As beads of tears flowed from your eyes Thousands of women would fill these lonely streets. And as the time of separation slowly approaches Farewell cries were heard from far away As a drop of clear water rises to the heavens A woman was leaving these deserted streets. Metin ERDEN  

 My Best Friend Birds Yesterday, as usual. You've walked where we've walked You're sitting on a bench by the beach You've lit a cigarette, you're far away. You've never laughed, you're sad again Your eyes were full for a while. He bought a bagel from a roadside bagel shop You shared half of it with the seagulls. You're cold, you've got cold hands. Your nose is all red Then you slowly made your way home. You stopped by the supermarket to pick up some groceries. You said something from the outside. You've been spinning in empty rooms You've listened to some music, read some books. You scribbled something with a pen and paper. And again you shared your loneliness with the nights How do I know all this? Birds... Birds are my best friends They watch you every day, they bring you news. Maybe one day you'll go away Maybe you'll be far away But the birds will always be with you And they will carry your scent to me... Metin ERDEN

  Write Me Down Let me be your book, write me down, Pour it into me, what's inside Tell me about the places you have travelled Describe your moods Your points, your commas Sometimes your joy, your joy Sometimes your sorrows Write me   what you wish. Letter by letter, syllable by syllable May this fun never end The riddle in your pen. Curl my important pages, Scribble some parts of me Don't forget to put dry leaves Separate where you left off with brackets A flesh, a nail, a skin Bring my self into body Then continue forever Write, live me... Metin ERDEN

I'm in Blind Wells With whom is my body Where is my soul waking up On a ship with a broken rudder The crew is jumping overboard What century am I in The world is blurry I can't see Who am I looking for? If I cross the cliffs I may come But don't wait for me Don't let the babies go without milk I get tangled and tangled Can I be untangled again O woman who made me fall Come and save me from this pit Metin ERDEN

We Had a Little House Two rooms and a lounge Two balconies without railings It's just black concrete We had a small house. Front and back gardens Trees planted in it Plenty of flowers planted We had a small house. Some moments of sadness Always festive on holidays Shrinking as we grow up We had a small house. Hiding my childhood Crying when I was away Always understanding our situation We had a small house. The offspring flew one by one Then the door closed One day suddenly sold We had a small house. Metin ERDEN

My Most Beautiful Poems on Birds' Wings   We neither shouted nor called We walked on our way with our heads held high We hit the bottom of loneliness With the sounds of the door creaking Friends with cows, goblins, nightmares We struggled with the darkness The freezing cold penetrated us Empty coffins, ready for bed And bats in the ruined ruin They thought it was dampness, the tears of my walls The smell of soot my quilt My lost youth. I wrote on the wings of cranes My most beautiful poems The blue sky was far away Bullet holes in the doors The looks were shaky, timid like a pigeon It used to snow in flakes We used to watch together with the street lamp My eyelashes would freeze I collected my ashes for years I accumulated a lot of loneliness In notebooks, in papers, pencils August bugs would laugh at me I was cold to spite August I was a winter child I never knew summer Every day is like a century Every day a prisoner Life for bread money No one knows my subsoil How my branches t...