MURAT YURDAKUL

MURAT YURDAKUL

TEARS

birds meet the night with shadows from the autumn

I don't know how many full moon washed in the courtyard of your voice.

I'm falling apart from my heart

I draw bird's sleep in children's dreams

I am accumulating in the voice of violets the wretch of the world

first my grief fell to the heart of the water

the pigeons again

what's left of the season

waiting for the rest of the pain

every woman who is defeated in the womb of God

most secluded solitude of the night tied up in my geography

I'm falling on the earth with pain from my mother's tears

CHILL

you were so tall that I could tell you in a breath

pirates from the old wine

it was like telling old stories.

I was ashamed of all the love

I mean, it was a fake love, but it was yours...

that breaks the silence of the sky in the rain

the night comes with the sound of a blue-smelling bird

a song of a bagbozzum on the pillow of your hair

when you have pain, your life is moist in your chest.

poured out of memory secrets that mirror the heart of pain

my heart stays at the warmth of your hands

I could tell from the trains that went on all the time.

those who pass

the heavy brown smell of rails

I tell the language of the wind, the grieving eyelash goes down to the earth

I'm falling into the Sleep of the night that weighs heavily on our skin.

zergahti heart was old beauty gazel rain that dungeon

an endless boredom that smeils in the courtyard of the morning

trees were a sound cluster in the mouth of birds

blue on my forehead with a broken sky spell 

so much so that the heart is in despair

they shivered me on the night I died naked.

LOVE

using my hands like a master tailor

I'm cutting them green.

flowers walking on your skin

I leave their scent to the sea

fade evenings in the voice of the Begonia

I'm in the shade of my hair and my beard

but I can't cover your beauty

without water and breath

one last hope is that Leyla is holding her hand.

even your hair goes down to your waist.

I learned how to rise from the soul where a body is buried.

And I realized that my scattered breath was accumulating in your breath.

loving your feet when you're cold

warm up between your legs as simple as

as hard as the gift of life

the innocence of your face is being washed against the moon.

two raki fills in a row

the only courage of the cowards

we're the last solution to the troubles.

and the deeper you look at me, the deeper you look at me

anxiety is ash and flies

we were in two countries with you.

collect deaths from the squares

peace from the flower to the ground

as long as we make love

the rain felt in foggy morning

a sea-like infinitude attached to my heart

you're a song now, making love to my wine!

the happy wound that awakens in the crust of the world or what?

like a love written on poetry

stain your knees

we erased it from the kiss.

MURAT YURDAKUL

MURAT YURDAKUL was born in Adana on 01.01.1980. He completed his English Department at Anadolu University. He started his summer life with a story. His stories, poems and writings were published in Arıda, Kitab-I, Milliyet art, a literature, Yom literature, Ekin art literature and thought, Literatureist and Karakedi magazines. MevzuEdebiyat.com literature analysis, poetry and novel criticism articles are published. Yurdakul's verbal ability, which also translates poetry into Italian, Spanish and English, consists of a wide range of languages. Murat yurdakul speaks Advanced Spanish, Italian and English. Poet / writer;●International poetry competition “Ventuio prize” - XIII Edition - year 2018 ‘la voce di mia madre’ was awarded the merit award in the Department of Peace weapons. ●He appeared as a contemporary Turkish poet in a literary magazine published in Portugal named” espaco do ser". ●“Opa anthology" took part in the selection of modern poet anthology.