poetics and politics

“You have to accept that some people are not made for deep conversations, or for holding you together when you’re about to fall apart, or for keeping you from unzipping your skin, or for talking you out of suicide, or to love you through the worst moments of your life. Some people are made for shallow exchanges, and ridiculous banter, and nothing more. And that’s okay. That doesn’t make them horrible people because they simply aren’t able to handle a storm like you. It doesn’t make you a bad person because you won’t divulge all the gritty details of your horror show. It makes you smart. You have to accept that there will be people that cannot give you what you need. It doesn’t mean they are not worth keeping in your life. You just have to figure out who these ones are before you’re disappointed. And you have to keep them at arm’s length. You cannot expect everyone in your life to understand, to be nonjudgmental, to get it. But that’s okay, because not everyone was made to impart wisdom, or wax-poetic, or speak on politics and the depravity of society, or discuss how crucial it is that the stigma of mental illness be abolished. There are times when you have to get away from all that heaviness. You have to. And you will need superficial conversation about Kim Kardashian’s arse, or a debate on the color of The Dress. You will need those ones. So don’t go round cutting people off and dropping your friends. You need people for all your seasons. You need people or you won’t survive this.”

—Anonymous, What my therapist told me this morning

Addictions are not poetic or romantic like you see in the movies.
Being  an addict is not pretty.
It does not make you edgy.
It turns you  into  someone you can’t recognize anymore, and maybe that’s why most people fall in love with it.
Because they don’t like who they are, and they want to become someone else.
Something different.
Even if it’s an addict.

- Hira

“You have to accept that some people are not made for deep conversations, or for holding you together when you’re about to fall apart, or for keeping you from unzipping your skin, or for talking you out of suicide, or to love you through the worst moments of your life. Some people are made for shallow exchanges, and ridiculous banter, and nothing more. And that’s okay. That doesn’t make them horrible people because they simply aren’t able to handle a storm like you. It doesn’t make you a bad person because you won’t divulge all the gritty details of your horror show. It makes you smart. You have to accept that there will be people that cannot give you what you need. It doesn’t mean they are not worth keeping in your life. You just have to figure out who these ones are before you’re disappointed. And you have to keep them at arm’s length. You cannot expect everyone in your life to understand, to be nonjudgmental, to get it. But that’s okay, because not everyone was made to impart wisdom, or wax-poetic, or speak on politics and the depravity of society, or discuss how crucial it is that the stigma of mental illness be abolished. There are times when you have to get away from all that heaviness. You have to. And you will need superficial conversation about Kim Kardashian’s arse, or a debate on the color of The Dress. You will need those ones. So don’t go round cutting people off and dropping your friends. You need people for all your seasons. You need people or you won’t survive this.”

!!

—  tinkerbell03 
Your love for me was an internal flame. Setting fire to what was once incombustible . Your actions echoed louder than your words, making your silence my comfort
—  silence
I took comfort in the warmth of his words
as he reminded me that
we are all fighting the same war,
with different battles
We are all drowning in the same ocean,
just different waves 
We are all battling the same demons
with different faces
—  my lover was a poet
Nature

A vague dream,
A burning, unfulfilled desire.
Something warm and fragile
Just below the surface
Hidden deep within,
yet hoping to be found. 
A fickle soul inside a glass bottle.
Music from another world.
Beyond ordinary language.
An entirely different set of words.

-Alex

اي مُرغک خُرد ، ز آشيانه    Ey küçük kuş! Yuvadan                      

پرواز کن و پريدن آموز       Uç ve uçmayı öğren                            

تا کي حرکات کودکانه؟        Ne zamana kadar çocukça yaşamak        

در باغ و چمن چميدن آموز     Bağ, bahçe, bostanda gezmeyi öğren

رام تو نمي شود زمانه           Zaman sana ayak uydurmaz                    

رام از چه شدي ؟ رميدن آموز  Niye evcilleştin ki koşmayı öğren

منديش که دام هست يا نه        Düşünme tuzak var mı yok mu?          

بر مردم چشم ، ديدن آموز      Halkın gözüyle bakmayı öğren            

شو روز به فکر آب و دانه     Gündüz su ve yem peşinde                  

هنگام شب آرميدن آموز        Geceleri uyumayı öğren

Pervin İtisami 

Görsel : Southern Iran . Qashqai nomad. Fars region  Photographer Unknown

Teenage Pregnancy

“Teenage Pregnancy”

When my daughter told me she was pregnant,
I looked at her with the widest of eyes.
I asked her if she was planning to keep it,
Because from this situation she could not hide.

She was only in high school,
But I allowed her the freedom to choose,
Because I knew she was responsible,
And trust would not be abused.

I was never an over-bearing parent.
I gave my kids room to breathe,
Believing at a young age I instilled values,
And faith in them would not deceive.

So when my daughter told me the news,
As a parent I felt like I failed.
Her life already pre-determined,
Before her ship could set sail.

Well, that’s what I thought back then,
As I urged her to get an abortion.
If she does it in the early stages,
It’s still not considered a person.

She wasn’t emotionally ready,
Or financially secure to have a child.
She didn’t even have a high school diploma.
The problems would just continue to pile.

Like where would the baby sleep?
Or who’d watch the baby while she works?
She couldn’t rely on her boyfriend.
He was always such a jerk.

And she certainly wasn’t relying on us.
My wife and I agreed she’s on her own.
If she’s responsible enough to have sex,
Then she’s responsible enough to atone.

So one night our daughter ran away,
And we never heard from her until,
Twenty years had passed,
And she came of her own free will.

She visited with a man,
Who was working on a degree.
He said he was planning to be a doctor,
And pursue a ph. D.

It was then that I realized,
This man was her son.
And though too stubborn to admit,
I was proud of what she had done.

And I would never tell her son,
I insisted his mom should have had an abortion,
Because twenty years later,
I can see he’s a wonderful person.

Her

Auburn i’d say
Maybe closer to red
Far away eyes
Hint of a smile so sad

Like knowledge herself, or wisdom, not sure
The more that I learn, the more I learn I don’t know.

-Me