Stuck in a Portrait

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May 13, 2017 by sercanakhanli

People are bad. There are a good people too. There is an interesting connection between dark and white. It will not be bad if it is not good, it will not be good if it is not bad. I am little sad. Coward! I try to change it. Failure! Boring, boring, and boring… Come to home, rest, eat, sleep. Get up! I have to do things to do. There is something to say. I could not speak. The people who I lost, the people who I gained. Do you get it? Life is tired, I am desperate. Cars are moving fast, time is passing. I do not move. I am getting old. The time follows me. Suicide. A remote possibility. But I thought. Not serious. But deep and deep. Life is meaningless. Everyone knows that. I am stuck in a portrait. Get something different. For instance, I wake up in the air. I look at people from the top, once. What a terrible thing is boredom. Unsolvable! Negative thought. I am desperate. What am I going to solve? Flutter. Never mind the world. Leave people behind. They cannot think like you. They cannot be like you. Loneliness! I have a headache. It’s 4. In the early morning. I have not been able to write for a long time. It is time to come. And welcome.


What did I solve? No… No… No… I did not write for it. I do not know. Inner sound. Silence sshh! Sun is up. Sleeplessness with my girlfriend. Nice talk. It is about me, her and life. Isolation. Cliff. Trailer. Until the morning. What do I do? No! On the contrary, I catch it. Either go, give up or strive. What kind of story is this? Have neither beginning nor end. Give me your rings. I can be Frodo. The responsibility is good. I do not have to save the World. It is necessary to access the core of this universe. Do not burn in lavas. Even swim. Do not drown. Explore all the oceans get tired without running. Cars are moving. The time is faster than it. It is 5. I live in a golden cage. Is the gold precious? I do not think so! The precious thing is to open the door. Run to freedom.

A Sad State of Freedom

You waste the attention of your eyes,
the glittering labour of your hands,
and knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves
of which you’ll taste not a morsel;
you are free to slave for others–
you are free to make the rich richer.

The moment you’re born
they plant around you
mills that grind lies
lies to last you a lifetime.

You keep thinking in your great freedom
a finger on your temple
free to have a free conscience.


Nazım Hikmet.

I said I should fly. Let me go. I am the new breadth. Get me out of jail. Flying to freedom. Maybe I am confronted with what I lost. I do not see them on the ground. Maybe we will meet again. Something changes. However, you did not be there. I checked it. The universe is getting to expand. I am silent. I could not find out. Begin somewhere! Scream. Ahhh!!! From where? This has been shown to you before. Begin! You cannot control your thought. Nope! I started something. That thing is left half finished. I started to read. Ended with comas. I wrote a poem. At 2. I did not complete. Sleep. I would not. I wrote to Europe: “How are you doing?” We rented the trailer. I feel alive. Tour. Without thinking. We sailed into the sea. Not yet. We swam in the sail for the first time. Interesting. I turned left and right. I lost her. Then I found finally. By the way, the meaning is not about a person or an object. It cannot be. I get it. Maybe I wrong. Where are you or is it? It is 8. Today is Sunday.

Today is Sunday

For the first time they took me out into the sun today.
And for the first time in my life I was aghast
that the sky is so far away
and so blue
and so vast
I stood there without a motion.
Then I sat on the ground with respectful devotion
leaning against the white wall.
Who cares about the waves with which I yearn to roll
Or about strife or freedom or my wife right now.

The soil, the sun and me…
I feel joyful and how.

Nazım Hikmet.

A slice of cheese. 3 olive. 2 cups of tea. Jam. A cup of coffee. I fall asleep. Readings. Writings. Obligations. Do not think too much. Run away. Be like a river. Back to real life. Get out the cage. Query. But you should be free. What I want to do. What I do not want to do. Here and now. Rebel! For someone else’s mistake. I do not do right everything. So, maybe I feel tired. Feel the Sun Light. Look! What a beautiful spring.


A sad state of freedom. (n. d.). Nazım Hikmet Poems. 

Today is Sunday. (n. d.). Nazım Hikmet Poems.

Author info: E. Sercan Akhanli, MA Cand., Experimental Social Psychology Program (Baskent Un., Ankara) | email: sercan_akhanli [AT] hotmail[.]com



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