24/8/13 – I remember writing a version of ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’ around the age of 5 or 6 at school. I can’t entirely remember if it was a word for word copy of the original story or an iteration of my own mind. What I do remember is my mother telling me that I should be a writer, a storyteller. Somehow that must have stuck with me, as over the years I’ve written so many short stories, some which I have been lucky enough to see on a cinema screen, acted out by actors, with accompanying music and even credits. But I’ve also, like many pubescent younglings, dabbed my pen on an empty piece of paper and wrote some poems!
Poetry has entered my life from time to time, normally when I’m really down or super in love(or both). The ones from early teen years are embarassingly cheesy and very direct whilst the later ones, at least, have a richer vocabulary. I thought it would be fun to compare one of my earliest works written when I was around 11 with another I wrote in 2009, which to this day, I still like a lot. Keep in mind that the earlier poem was written in turkish so the one below is a translated version. I will do my best to keep the cheesiness intact.
If I could,
All my life,
I would look into your beautiful green eyes.
Listening to you,
is the biggest reason
for me to lose myself.
I’m alone without you,
I’m by myself without you,
I’m searching for you, where are you?
I was deeply in love, on the verge of obsession and knew that this person was the one for me and anyone else would not be worthy of even comparing to this platonic relationship. I did mention I was 11 right? Let’s try the next one, written at the age of 23.
One needs respect in times of dire
So long a soul can wait in despair
The Giving Hand has clenched it’s fist
To deprive, starve, kill…
One becomes inanimate and too weak to be
As the candle melts, so does the light to see
Neverending dilemma takes it’s toll
To chant, taunt, tease…
One flows throughout the shivering current
Heavy and timid as the wreath swirls
Source of fruition ends it’s journey
To hate, cry, die…
Never hopeful, ever so there
Blind eye opens, catching the lair
Seeking truth, although no share
Upon it shines, meet me there..
I remember writing the lyrics for this, kinda making up the words and then searching for similar ones I could use instead. It’s hard to be objective but I really like this poem. It sounds angry but beautiful at the same time. I guess it could work better as a song for Metallica, ala Fade to Black or Nothing Else Matters. I would like to think that anyway…