by James Fraser |
Categories:
love, passion, people, places
Naked souls in meet
Spread across two continents
Our Turkish Delight
by Legendary Legend |
Categories:
for her,
That i listen to your complaints till am full,
does not make me foolish!
That i love a girl from turkey,
can't make me Turkish!
I cry whenever i miss you and our future child,
that does not make me childish!
Love no other woman but love you the way i love myself,
that does not make me selfish.
I love you so much, I am not to blame,
because in loving, you aint blemish.
by Shadow Hamilton |
Categories:
dream, love, memory,
Tenderly she picked the pink flower
day dreaming of the first flower given
wandering over to the bedecked bower
she dreamily looked at the garden
Memories of happy times came flooding in
the places they had visited together
Roma where they bathed in Turkish basins
Athens, they were victims of a flasher
Paris is the city of love and romance
here they had dallied playing some love games
time they spent alone in a loving trance
their love for each other fueled by flames
Love had bound them for all eternity
memories founded on a dynasty
by Kai Michael Neumann |
Categories:
allah, devotion, love,
Hamd in Hammam
His or her word is everything resolved
Absolved enlightened entwined where
Mistress and master join in passion in
Birth and rebirth recant their solemn prayer
In every flower deed conviction praise
Nirvana even in the Turkish bath where
Harun and Hafeeza in separate chambers
Adhere to cleansing body mind and soul
Miraculous to every pore and purified
Mantra tantric to the highest order
A ceremonial purge in steam in heat and
Measurement of heaven haven Allah’s creed
13th February 2017
by Pius Seda |
Categories:
care, caregiving, character, community, dark, encouraging,
The world is shocked with a tragedy that has claimed too many lives
In Syria and Turkey, the ground shook with strife
Desperate souls left in its wake
A dad's hand touching that of his daughter, too late
We feel the pain of those who have lost loved ones
Their hearts heavy, weighed down with the burden
We send our thoughts to those in despair
And show appreciation to those who show kindness and care
By helping the victims, they make the world a better place
Even in times of darkness, they bring a smile to someone's face
We spread love to the people of Syria and Turkey
And to all those who stand up for humanity.
by Ashley Poort |
Categories:
love, passion,
Bitter as wormwood or Turkish coffee,
absinthian abandon;
this passion stings and burns.
Cheeks blaze with the scarlet sign and stigma
and your teeth leave their signature on my hips.
Prudence we shed like the ash
tapped off my cigarette with trembling fingertips.
This bed is an ocean in which I choose to drown-
sore each morning from being
crushed by your waves.
Ninety-proof ecstasy
scalds as you swallow,
but you, oh so deliciously, melt.
The scars will be there only because the body
could not bear the pleasure that it felt.
by Jesse Jones |
Categories:
confusion, children, imagination, lost love, love, mystery, sad,
“She is black and white,”
she is my wintry queen-angel.
She inhabits the icy cold cavernous spaces
in my mind. She feeds me Turkish delights.
She drives her dogsled through my heart at midnight,
her expression frigid, her eyes like piercing icicles
Her wolves howling with every crack of the whip.
She is crazy. She is awesome. She is evil.
SHE IS MY ABOMINABLE
SNOW MISTRESS
by Roger Hadden |
Categories:
age, lost love,
The trees undress slowly from the top.
Bare arms arc vainly into the sky. It is
Sunset. Orange skirts swirl in an awful
Dying light. The ground is littered gold.
I stop the scene with the shutter of my eye-
Stop and hold and mark- this blue, these reds
And holding greens- those rusts upon the ground.
I stoop and hold this one dry leaf.
It crumbles in my hand, and I see a picture
From the morning paper speak as if alive.
Five Turkish children killed by earthquake
Lie upon the ground, seemingly asleep.
by Mari Bond |
Categories:
love,
Along the Turkish lanes - I had to ,
An outcast with face held high,
But with the lowered in soul,
Where the yellow walls
Are scratching the shoulders without touching,
I think of you.
Almost found a way to escape for days,
That you can count with one fist.
From this not native country to native,
To that native bed where you were not every night ,
Not hours in a row,
But just sometimes.
*Gojo, a gypsy name, means beautiful.
by Panagiota Romios |
Categories:
celebration, today,
Greek Independence Day
March 25, 2019
Congratulations and OPA to the Greek
nation,
Which suffered 400 years of Turkish
domination.
And now you are free!!
Light the Saganaki, pass those very
luscious stuffed grape leaves,too.
Let's have some Mavrodafni and
Have more than a circle dance or two!
OPA with love,
Panagiota Romios
3/25/2019