Embedded Files
Every Soul a Story
Have you noticed?
Each soul you meet
is a book—
unwritten by your hand,
but bound in blood and breath.
No copy exists,
no mirror reflects
the world within their eyes.
They walk beside you
on the same earth,
but live
on different planets of memory.
A child, a stranger,
an elder with trembling hands—
all carry chapters
etched in silence,
pages inked with grief or grace.
Some speak like poetry,
open palms,
offering verses to the wind.
Others are guarded tomes,
locked tight,
waiting for a gentle reader
to see between the lines.
To study a person
is not to judge—
but to journey.
To read a life
is to travel
without moving,
to kneel before a library
of hearts.
So listen.
Look closely.
Everyone
is a world
disguised
as a name.
June 2025, Mersin, Turkey
“Between the Lines”
“Between the Lines”
By Farhood's Hand, Through a Living Wound
I have a scar across my palm,
A silent line the world can't read.
It split the map of who I am —
Between the heart, and thought, and need.
Once, my fingers held the sky,
Dreams like feathers in my grip.
But life — it carved its truth in me,
With every fall, with every slip.
The mind grew sharp. The heart grew still.
I dressed my soul in quiet laws.
I learned to smile behind a shield,
And hid the ache behind the cause.
But still, the palm remembers all —
The blood, the touch, the silent vow.
A stitch for every whispered truth
I couldn't speak, but carry now.
This hand has built, this hand has burned,
It’s fed, it’s fought, it’s begged, it’s blessed.
It held a lover, clenched a loss,
And once, it wrote with nothing left.
Yet here I am, my palm ungloved,
No longer split by fear or fate.
My scar’s not shame — it's ink and thread,
And now I choose to create.
So read me not in lines alone,
But in the space between the two.
For every wound I've dared to hold
Has made me more, not less, than true.
This poem emerged not from my hand alone, but from the silence between my memories and a digital mirror. It is mine, but also not mine. It is, perhaps, more true because of that.
June of 2025, Mersin, Turkey
Carpe Diem
Carpe Diem
Not you will remain, nor will your sorrow,
Learn from your faults, and then unfollow
Time is flying, paths become narrow
When it comes to end, you cannot borrow
The past has been passed, future's hollow
Cherish the moment, forget tomorrow
March of 2024, Mersin, Turkey
Endless Roam
Endless Roam
It has been a while since I feel blue.
If you're asking why, I have no clue.
Living is torture inside this limbo,
with high walls around, without a window.
No tongue to speak, no ear to hear,
eyes always red, in blood and tear.
Stranger, I was, even at my home,
is there any end to this endless roam?
April of 2023, Mersin, Turkey
If I Could Fly...
If I had two wings; if I could fly,
I would reach to you, cruising the sky.
Then I’d carry you, on me you rely,
and we would hover, together so high
I would kiss your lips, you the love of I
You would cuddle me although a bit shy
I wish distances were nothing but lie
I hope souls can fly after people die
April of 2023, Mersin, Turkey
The following poem is a literary translation of an impressive poem by HÜSEYİN NİHAL ATSIZ a well-known, patriotic Turkish poet and writer. I dedicate this translation to him and all the heroes without whom safety and tranquility were meaningless words.
The Death of Heroes
A bow so stiff is being drawn,
to lose an arrow, to make it flown.
At night, the moon rises in the sky,
to ascend then set without a goodbye.
Weeps a lover every day and night,
to hold beloved in his arms so tight.
Dallies and smiles lovely sweetheart,
to giggle and melt lover's shaking heart.
Why does a poet endure the pain?
to write a poem, to ease his brain.
Why do the people on highlands cry?
to speak with Gods, to reach the sky.
Bloossom tasty buds and flowers,
to feed honey bees, like kissing lovers.
On lapel a rose sits right on the heart,
to be discarded once withered apart.
God has crafted millions of women
to celebrate life, uniting with men
Grows up a man inside a cradle,
to rest in a grave under a maple.
and .......................
A hero lays down his life with pride,
to keep the homeland safe and unified.
KAHRAMANLARIN ÖLÜMÜ
Gerilir zorlu bir yay
Oku fırlatmak için;
Gece gökte doğar ay
Yükselip batmak için.
Mecnûn inler, kanını
Leylâ’ya katmak için.
Cilve yapar sevgili
Gönül kanatmak için.
Şair neden gam çeker?
Şiir yaratmak için.
Dağda niçin bağrılır?
Feleğe çatmak için.
Açılır tatlı güller
Arılar tatmak için.
Göğse çiçek takılır
Solunca atmak için.
Tanrı kızlar yaratmış
Erlere satmak için.
İnsan büyür beşikte
Mezarda yatmak için.
Ve……………………
Kahramanlar can verir
Yurdu yaşatmak için…
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