Spacebar
a project about fighter jets{
I'm not asking if it's approved by the birds
codefall on the screen
engineering hasn't seen such engineering since engineering
//my psyche, I secretly bring it with me to work
for hours we sit on a chair
for hours we feel like we’re not there
and I don't know why
and I don't know where
it aches whatever;
a poem about a project about fighter jets{
there's a mute bird by my bedside
for hours, spins around me
we spin()
for hours, I watch
suddenly
eye contact with the bird
all of a sudden something starts to hurt
and I don't know why
is the hurt I feel mine?
I don’t think so
anyways}
it aches etc.;;
with the same book in my bag
//I danced poli-
I danced poetically
in the center of the flight certified night
the birds were exiled from my psyche
I don't know who is running these inside of me
who exiles my birds?
my brain my stomach my legs my cochlea
I don't know which one hurts
someone inside is constantly raising their hands
wants to talk
I don’t know who
I don't know what else is inside
according to statistics
my body is a prayer that has never been written
to a god who’s an engineer by creation
poetry is software too after all
computers are human too
as we breathe
the codes get stuck in our throat
hold my hand
for hours we give birth to a simulation
a byte of hope
for hours we try;;;
//according to statistics, vitamin C manages these all
ferrari on LPG and works that ended with failing to save the world{
I wake up in the morning tucked into pages
to the bird's muteness
I dream of a sea by my side
warm and immense
a lullaby
I want to add the pulse of this sea to my quiet and dark streets
to quiet and dark screens
I want to remember this pulse
I want to remind this pulse how much I loved them
/*how I loved you
remember
how we were walking to the dormitories while the cold moon was
peeking at us like the CCTVs
remember
I took off my entire defense industry
in front of you
centimeter cubes of warmth
gigabytes of sensitive information
remember how kissing me was treason
then I couldn’t tell you “don’t go”
I printed it on a t-shirt “don’t go”
with the font of Pamukkale buses that you always mentioned
it was telling you not to go
then you went
it didn't concern any world
nobody had a comment*/
let’s not remember here
this is another poem’s business;;;
))}
I don't want all the attention in the world in my attention surplus
listen to the birds
everything is actually
good
for hours I can stay happy for the amber street light falling on
a tree
good
well+
fine++
I can flutter
and I don't know why
don't ask me anything
yes it aches
it aches
whatever
published by Mosquito Newspaper KABK