Mustafa Karasoy
He was born in 1980, in Sivas. His poems and writings appeared in magazines such as Türk Edebiyatı, Birnokta, Sonra Edebiyat, Aydos, Az Edebiyat, Kuyudaki Koro, and Temmuz. He published his poetry collection entitled Gün Ağarırken Terk Edilecek Siperler İçin Kazı Çalışmaları / Digging Works for the Trenches to be Deserted at Dawn.

Thanksgiving ode

To Cahit

when the news about you arrived
i was smuggling my heart by taking refuge on railroads
i had my heart as well as a headache, a residue
of i don’t know of which exile

inside all the rituals i was lost
and inside the crowds choking me
after the hours i lost myself i was running towards mirrors
there i was searching for my remaining humanity

when the news about you arrived
i found a response to
dripping water from my chin
i found a smile suiting my face i have hidden for years

your news arrived
heated glances and carrions were thrown at me
i was kicked out from the gates, from the evening visits
i took with me whatever i possessed
i took my life made up of mistakes
i set off

you came
i kept tying a knot around the world
my heart i was guarding was not to go in
i prospered, i prospered, i prospered
and life
plucked up courage with a coddling joy
the sadness of being rotten in empty rooms ceased

how lovely is your instantaneous smile
how lovely is to watch your hands at work
how lovely is mercy in your bowing your head
how lovely is to catch omar’s wrath in your look


To Sare

as being eliminated the words are falling off from your face
grace you wear on your face
the voice of transforming vulnerability
ring in my ears
this is so because your face is twilight
when the night becomes barren out of pain
when creepy crawly hide in their shelters
it is your face to give hope

if you have a smile, the whole universe gets offended
chimneys smoke
women swarm to look out of the Windows
eyes are dropped on the roads you walked
the place touched by your feet gets fertile

life’s sign is settled under your eye brows
i can find out that the longest nights
turn to the mornings, from there life descends on me

i consider you the blood of my chest
through whichever eye of yours i look at the world
a desire walks into my veins
i say this is from me, this syncopated song comes from me
this fast laziness
you are the reason for returning home
for bread and dining together
you are the one who bring the sky to our home
with her breath followed by frightening pillows