AS-No More...

No More... No more thoughts of him Than of a bit of orange peel She won’t hear his name even For the sake of the past she’ll count till seven Before she burns her restless imagination In the vortex of heaven She’s ready to give him a kick To such a fair game of everyone’s wit As she unfolds the allegory In the way to calm and subdue her fancy Which mistook an orange for his head She smashed the fruit in both hands... Ayten Suvak

AS-I Love Freedom...

I Love Freedom and Recognize No Ties You must not regard yourself as bound But with me you’ll always be safe and sound Separation won’t be a question of life and destiny Love is not a cut-and-dried plan without mistery She said aloud after him If my lucky star is at work She added as if in a dream Her tone very proud Her expression grim She exclaimed once again I’ll rob the heart of that clerk He said the serpentlike eloquent tail Of the letter S of my name Reminded him of my lovely curves So I won’t tax him With bedeviling questions With his eloquent remarks He has already won my heart I say that’s a fresh start Wonders would never cease Eyes fixed upon eyes Hand clasping hand Our two S’s would linger With ease in a revery What is to be will be freely... Ayten Suvak

AS-Rushing Up...

AS-I Dash Up Mommy...

I Dash Up... Night’s over I join the rush- Dishes in the sink It’s early morning. I can see the rising sun dimly behind the curtains. I can hear a long cock-a-doodle-doo come from the rare orchards left among the packing-box order of architecture. The voice is followed by a few bars of tomcats’ brawls and ended with a loud engine alarm. It’s now broad gray daylight. Businessmen, businesswomen are leaving their homes with a guiless air for skyscapers where they work. There’s a nasty smog in the air. I’m a trifle uneasy. My mother will soon start complaining of her rheumatism; my father will soon call me to his aid to tend the artificial eye he carries after his glaucoma surgery. My parents the authors of my being- Two dry leaves I wonder if I’ll have time today to read my two new books purchased weeks ago. A cry of despair I let fall a plate- Both my parents are on the floor Ayten Suvak

AS-Coming From The Id

Coming From the Id Somewhere a dove is cooing A navigating fly among flowers In my ear I hear his voice Life is spinning round I see worker bees in the hive In my mouth the taste of honey Everywhere I see nereids Oh Freud, don’t talk again of id Actually I love Aeneid Ayten Suvak

AS-A Twinge...

A Twinge At Heart

An ancient tumbledown wooden house
It haunts everyone as the sun is setting
On a quiet morose winter evening

A fairylike figure wearing a white blouse
It’s passing through the walls blown
As if it were with someone at daggers drawn

How out of order this soul was
In searching of a clue of the past
It was wandering around fast very fast

It’s so much gained of an enemy
Soon it saw the very object flown with the gust
One could see the fairy grown disturbed contemptuously

The facial expression was worth more than a whole poem
It trembled even to the marrow of its soul
As if excited by the peak of a requiem

She tore the paper of music in pieces
That was too much for her delicately organized natures
There he was sleeping with another woman

Whom the fairy would crown with a dagger in the womb
And the notes of that enigmatic music should be carved on his tomb
‘Never escape a twinge at heart recalling me my ex-groom’...

Ayten Suvak

AS-I am...

The Fairy of the Woods

I’m hidden among the trees that surround your homeoffice. I’ve been vigilating you for quite a while. Placed yourself at a large table, you’re sipping your coffee. You’ve a thoughtful air. While surfing on the net, you scratch the back of your head from time to time. You’re cool, though your appearance is a bit neglected.

You’re reading something on the monitor very attentively. You shake your head and then you smile. Now you’re using the keyboard with one hand; the other’s hidden somewhere on your lap working there eagerly. I can see your convulsions from my nest. Your cheeks are pink with violent excitement. You look more relieved, more in high spirits, a bit drowsy perhaps. You get a tissue paper to dry your hands, oh no, to blow your nose. Your eyelids are heavy. Are you unwell? No, just sleepy. You droop your head and dose for a while. I’ll let you rest; I’m comfortable under those laurel trees. I’ll look around while directing furtive glances at you all the while.

I have my long, flowing, rustic dress on. I make friends with your two cute dogs: I call them Cockey and Cunney. Come here sweethearts! They sniff at my picnic basket in which I brought you some dough rolls with spinach in them. I’ll also serve a milky fluid made of yogurt to wash the rolls down. Dogs are keeping me good company but it’s you in my target. I knock on the window to wake you up or rather to surprise you with my unexpected, fairylike presence.

Sure you’re shocked sweetheart, you roll your eyes. It’s I in flesh and blood. You don’t believe your eyes or you can’t see me? Oh, just leave yourself to me, close your eyes and follow me to the woods like a sleepwalker. I’ll take you to a dreamy place where a river flows. Shall we row a boat and sing the song “ row row row your boat gently down the stream, merrily merrily merrily, life is but a dream...” We’ll bathe in that river of Lethe. It’ll make you forget all the past experience with me. You’ll see me as innocent as the Victorian Angel of the house. You won’t fool yourself with doubts about me any more. You won’t suspect my sincerity. You’ll understand that I’m just a fairy of love in ecstacy; already cleansed in the purgatory for wanton souls.

Come darling, walk with me in the river. See my dress is already wet on my naked body. Hold me as you hold a baby to christen or crawl with me under the poplar trees if you want that demon of a woman back to go on with her magic charms of seduction...

Ayten Suvak