Poem 53 In Solidarity: Gel Gör Beni Aşk Neyledi #direngezi

Andrea Brady

Gel Gör Beni Aşk Neyledi #direngezi

We walk burning, itching, streaming all over,
cascading Mungyeong yellow. Love or its sister/
forces has stained Cumhuriyet Caddesi
with blood but les pavés pressed
hand to hand dry flowers become barricades,
underneath, roots of the red apple.
We aren’t static, aren’t mad.
Come see what our revolution has done to us!

Some nights blow hot Jenix up to infant windows,
some days the roads smoke under our feet.
Sometimes we pop our faces against rubber insects,
return weeping milk against water cannon to fill
the sadırvan for our initiation to real life,
clear our eyes in Belgrade’s black forest waters,
infinite fireworks gathering burnt campers,
grey wolves and electors. Come see
what our revolution has done to us!

We march from Topkapı on the Golden Road
tweeting and drumming about our love.
Who cares about the blind face of TOMA
trudges the howling man, the standing man,
the gazi, revolutionary readers, keep watch over us.
Millions of eyes on the icon, Kemalist Pantocrator,
come see what our revolution has done to us!

Our faces blanched with lemon, our eyes are wet.
In the tents the akoimetai of İmrahor Camii play dominoes
and Muslims code with socialists and greens.
Our reality is no longer numb, our hearts shielded
by the watch in our pocket will be the trigger.
Chiapas, Sofia, Rio, Valparaíso, Cairo, you know our state,
Come see what our revolution has done to us!

We are the çapulcu, standing in revolution’s garden,
building its crèche and library. Our power endures
assault, puts its back into the scars of outstanding.
We hold back the generals at the Golden Gate.
Shout down white Russians in the çiçek pasaj.
We are the occupiers of Istiklal Avenue
and fill nights with the ammunition of our sounds.
Scratched from head to foot, hackers, blinded
and spinning drunk with love and athletic on the rebound:
Come see what our revolution has done to us!

ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff in solidarity hope and desire / and with apologies to Yūnus Emre

Artist:Taha Alkan.'History in the Making'

Artist:Taha Alkan.’History in the Making’

Andrea Brady was born in Philadelphia and lives in London. She is the author of five books of poems, including Wildfire: A Verse Essay on Obscurity and Illumination (2010), Mutability: Scripts for Infancy (2012) and Cut from the Rushes (2013).


Poem 52 in Solidarity: after the fiction

by Olumide Popoola

after the fiction

when the credits drop away below
horizon level just below where we can

read the urges that push, that initiate to
say that it will not always be like this

will not end here, not be one of those after
the happy ending, glaring like a creepy sunset

blinding so much, one cannot see
like the credits vanish from the screen

like news that disappears and finds itself
re shaped threats, irregular reporting wavering

banners of uncertain truths. reporting being in
the facts and in fact something is not right here

now long before or long after anything can
be declared ending, declaring always so telling

of who gets to speak what when where and how
much with which media, but when starting it is

rising it is, gaining momentum. so, long before
ends should be uttered, where words find new

connections and we can look comfortably at
the horizon or any screen without the sharp drop

of disappearance, of any alarming sort and no words
will need to fall off any screens to serve the illusion

long before or long after, whichever comes first
we taste this. the way it doesn’t silence but

promotes. the way reality drops close in the is here
is really here. in the way we shape our longings

our intimate encounters, imaginations of space,
shared, emanating voices rising, moments

un-drowned, un-dropped, un-blanked or hidden
but. available. now. rising. rising.

Olumide Popoola (c) Regine Romain

Olumide Popoola (c) Regine Romain

London-based Nigerian-German Olumide Popoola presents internationally as author, speaker and performer. Her publications include essays, poetry, short stories and the novella this is not about sadness, the play Also by Mail as well as recordings in collaboration with musicians. www.olumidepopoola.com

Poem 51 In Solidarity: Zones of Frequency

by Theodoros Chiotis

Zones of Frequency


“Let it be told
to the future world”:

We will still be able to breathe
kkkkkkwhen the air turns thicker.

We are learning from Doctor Moreau
kkkkkkthe codes needed to assemble new faces.


Summer soldiers
twilight zealots
homes turned into barracks.

All these are echoes of previous years:

“We did not make proper use of
last winter,
kkkkkkkkkkkkneither could we,
while we were in a dependent state”


Play Grand Theft Auto.
Lay on the ground.
Don’t cause trouble.

An invasion, described in a once familiar language:

“If you are not contributing to (the) movement
then why are you here?”


Give (your) body
to what does not resemble you.

You might think otherwise but
Psycho was never about hygiene.



Sit still.
Displace the mirth.
Break the meeting.
Occupy all four hemispheres.
Repeat something that did not exist until now.


A map for a new respiratory system.
Nitrous oxide replaced by tear gas.
Our head and face boundaries collapse.

kkkkkkkkkkkkNow: cut across the canvas.

Occupy Gezi – by Adbusters

Occupy Gezi – by Adbusters

Theodoros Chiotis has studied Classics and Modern Language at the universities of London and Oxford. His work has appeared in Adventures in Form (Penned in the Margins), Catechism: Poems for Pussy Riot (English Pen),Otoliths, Fit to Work: Poets Against ATOS, Tears in the Fence, Bad Robot Poetry, Ποιητική, Εντευκτήριο, Παγιδευμένοι στο διαδίκτυο (Patakis), aglimpseof[φρμκ] and Poeticanet. His work has been featured at the Book Festival of Croatia (2012), in the Invisible Architecture installation (2013) and in the Mercy/Liverpool Biennial podcast.

Poem 50 In Solidarity: तीन कविताहरु (Three Poems)

Durgalal Shrestha

तीन कविताहरु

तारमा अड्किएको चङ्गा झैँ
बेरिइरहनेछ मेरो आवाज
यो वायूमण्डलमा,
भोलि यो बाटो आउनेहरुलाई
सुनाइरहनेछ यसले मेरो कथा ।

कत्ति छैन चालचुल
न चलेकै छ पातपतिङ्गर,
मौन– सबका सब मौन Û
हैन, यो निदाएको हैन,
बरु हो– पर्खिँदापर्खिँदै
पर्खाइको पराकाष्ठामा पुगेको ।
घाम डुब्नै आँट्यो
मेरो जाने बेला भयो,
सम्झना Û
हिँड, सँगै जाउँ
फेरि यता
आइरहन नपरोस् मलाई ।

Three poems

Like a kite caught in wire
My voice will be enduring in space,
It will keep passing on my story
To the passersby for all time to come!

Everything is unmoving
Not even the crackle of leaves,
Silence… everything is quiet,
No, this is not a state of slumber,
Rather, it’s reaching the climax of wait
On the process of waiting.

The sun is about to set down
It’s time for me to go
My memory!
Come, let’s walk together
So that
I wouldn’t pass this way again.

Durgalal Shrestha

Durgalal Shrestha

Durgalal Shrestha has been writing since the early ‘50s and is a living legend of Nepali literature.

He has crafted a realm of poetry and fought on behalf of voiceless people. Durgalal’s works have been translated into many languages. He writes fluently in both his mother tongue Newar and Nepali language.He is also known as a songwriter.

Poem 49 in Solidarity: Love in Every Language

By Serkan Engin

Love in Every Language

Love me in every language of the world
Let’s make love in Lazuri,
Let the waves of our tongue dance The Horon
At the northern Rockies of your body.

Love me in every language of the world
Let’s view one another in Kurdish.
Let the hawks’ East wings fly from our eyes
To the purple mountains of love.

Love me in every language of the world
Write my heart in Turkish.

Translated from Turkish to English by Serkan Engin with James Pickersgill


Original Turkish by Serkan Engin, and translations to Kurdish and Lazuri:

Her Dilde Aşk

Dünyanın bütün dillerinde sev beni
Lazca sevişelim
Horon tepsin dilimin dalgaları
Kuzey kayalıklarında gövdemin

Dünyanın bütün dillerinde sev beni
Kürtçe bakışalım
Doğu kanatlı şahinler uçsun
Aşkın mor dağlarına gözlerimizden

Dünyanın bütün dillerinde sev beni
Türkçe yaz kalbimi

Bi Her Zimanî Evîn

Bi hemû zimanên dinê hez bike ji min

Em bi Lazkî bi hev şa bibin
Bila pêlên zimanê min rabin horonê
Li bakur zinarên di bedenê min de

Bi hemû zimanên dinê hez bike ji min

Em bi Kurdî li hev binêrin
Bila teyrebazên baskeşerq bifirin
Ji çavên ber bi çiyayên mor ên evînî

Bi hemû zimanên dine hez bike ji min

Bi Tirkî binivsîne dile min

Translated to Kurdish by Mehmet Caymaz

Mteli Nenapete Oropa

Çainat’işi mteli nenapete mioropi ma
Lazuri bistvat
Xoroni cixoronas nena şk’imişi 3’ari şxaşxala
Şozişi kvalopinape xura şk’imi

Çainat’işi mteli nenapete mioropi ma
Kyurduli ok’ob3’edat
Yulvaşi msvalepe muşite atmacape putxas
Tolepe şk’unişen oropaşi uça isinapeşa

Çainat’işi mteli nenapte mioropi ma
Turkuli minç’ari guri şk’imi

Translated to Lazuri by Selma Koçiva

Serkan Engin

Serkan Engin

A Laz poet from Turkey, Serkan Engin was born in 1975 in Izmit/Turkey. He studied at the Navy Military Lycee but was dismissed from the Navy Military High School in 1995 because he was undisciplined. He then studied at technical high school in Kocaeli University, and is now a vigorous antimilitarist. His poems have been published in more than fifty literature journals in Turkey and he has also published a poem manifesto in a literature journal in 2004, Imagist Socialist Poetry. His poems have been published in English and Japanese journals.

Poem 48 In Solidarity: Sem Título


diante da grandeza do universo

nos contentamos em ser meia-coisa

estamos produzindo

tanta unha para o sec. xxi

ninguém calculou

o impacto das nuvens

sobre crânios sem chapéus

concluiu-se apenas que

os fumantes tem duas almas

ou ao menos desculpa para ir ao ar livre

os comerciais da free

definiram afinal o que é arte

e o que poderia ser

deixamos que outros decidam

nada resta por duvidar

acreditamos em tudo o que

não tem mistério:

sobrou somente a busca incansável por atlântida

essas pedras submarinas

empilhadas sob outra história

atlântida nunca esteve no passado

tão somente no futuro

o passado – sabe-se –

é daqueles que o enxergam primeiro

e o caminho dos pedestres

tem outro traçado que o dos carros



Born in Rio de Janeiro in 1978. Writer, sound and visual artist. Author of four books of poetry and essays, he has collaborated with newspapers including O Globo, Jornal do Brasil, O Estado de Minas and with numerous brazilian and international magazines. His works have been translated into eight languages. He also has poems published in the anthologies Poetas do Mundo, O que é poesia?, Todo começo é involuntário – a poesia brasileira no início do Sec. 21, Poétes Brèsiliens d´aujourd´hui, 24 letras por segundo, among others. His poetry inspired the short film “The Gospel according to the Sea”, 2011, directed by Iva Kvasnicka.

He has taught advanced courses in creative writing and sound poetry at the University of Coimbra and the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro. As a translator, he has published texts of Gherasim Luca, Gilles Yvain, Serge Pey, Mathieu Bénézet, Hagiwara Sakutaro and Forrest Gander. In 2008, he received the National Library Foundation Scholarship, for the book of essays Pética das Casas (Poetics of Houses) and in 2009, was resident poet in Monsanto, Portugal. He is also one editor with Confraria do Vento (Brasil/ Portugal) and curator of Cidade aTravessa, performative and literary event that takes place in Lisbon, Rio de Janeiro and Sao Paulo.

An experimental poet, with works in the area of sound and visual poetry, installation and performance, M-A has performed in the United Kingdom, France, Portugal, Ukraine, Hungary, Spain, Netherlands, Argentina, Peru, Canada and several cities in Brazil, sharing the stage with artists such as Bruce Andrews, Stephen Rodefer and Ana Gesto. He has read in the festivals Poetry International Festival Rotterdam, Silêncio, Balada Literária, Encontros de Interrogação, International Meeting of Poets in Coimbra, Fórum das Letras, Marché de la Poésie, Poéticas plurales, Festival Internacional de Poesía de Córdoba to name a few.

Along with Maria Bethania, Edu Lobo and Zeca Baleiro, he read poems in the documentary and video installation Há muitas noites na noite, by Silvio Tendler. Thanks to his Radioactive-Poetic Conference (2007) in the ghost town of Chernobyl, in Ukraine, he became “the first radioactive poet in the world.”

Márcio-André lives in Santiago de Compostela, Spain

Poem 47 In Solidarity: On Istiklal

by David Shook

On Istiklal

Mustache flecked with chicken pudding,
the ice cream trickster juggles scoops,
flips cones for tips,
never smiles.

Perched behind his analog scale,
the salesman invites my mass aboard,
a lira for my passage. Generous,
he rounds up, gifts me weight I have not earned.

The needle’s thin tongue trembles
when I lift my boot in explanation.
Today he’s weighed at least 400 kilos for
the chestnuts he’ll eat walking home.

The weight that’s crossed this city means I’m nothing.
Luxor’s obelisk re-righted with manpower and a plan,
a trough of lokum heavy like a coffin
but filled with sweeter meat.

For all I weigh, I weigh almost nothing,
I increase the earth’s gravitational pull
by an insignificant degree,
this street will not remember me.

Still: I will not be rounded up nor rounded down.

          Look! / Hey! / Dumb-cluck! / Chuck your twanging noise-box.
—Nâzim Hikmet

David Shook

David Shook

David Shook grew up in Mexico City before studying endangered languages in Oklahoma and poetry at Oxford. His debut collection of poems, Our Obsidian Tongues, was published by Eyewear Publishing in 2013. He has translated Roberto Bolaño’s Infrarealist manifesto, indigenous Mexican poetry from the Isthmus Zapotec, and oral poetry by the Burundian Batwa. He served as Translator in Residence at Britain’s Poetry Parnassus at The Southbank, in 2012. There he premiered his covertly shot documentary about Equatorial Guinean poet Marcelo Ensema Nsang. Shook lives in Los Angeles with his wife, the poet and pastor Syd Shook, where he edits Molossus and Phoneme Media. http://davidshook.net