Enjoy listening :) Our budgie died Leaving a blue autumn with its flying feathers behind You know death is an empty blue cage sometimes Whichever language we translate the pain into would be a lie now Pollyanna On the mornings of the nights I couldn't sleep Purple children would be born from my eyes The morning calls to prayer would sing lullabies to my purple children The storm would resemble upside-down umbrellas My palms opened for prayer Snow would fall on my palms Sometimes a blizzard... How many times have I been trapped in my palms. A few winters passed Pollyanna I was always sad. A child poet built a huge snowman inside me Humming strange songs: If I were the border ornament to my poem If I were the rose of a border ornament If I were love, a diary that I kept in a yellow notebook... Then in the summers I had a balcony embraced with jasmines The balcony would make love with jasmines A dream would make love with daydream. I would make love with the night under that white and fragrant tent. I would sit on the balcony like an invitation I would wrap my pains around my head Like a white blanket I was a bride whose lover was suffering Pollyanna I would say, come, come whoever you are... I would sit on the balcony like a floral wedding invitation The stars would be frightened, tremble at my invitation It would turn white around the moon. I would hold out my wrists, bare, white and thin I wanted a handcuff made of light as a face shield Pollyanna. I wanted to kiss my prostrating forehead with my wine-drinking lips. I wanted to rub my search, which has calluses on my knees and elbows, with a white ointment. Searching is a white sin sometimes, Pollyanna... If I must confess I bought salt shakers shaped like tomatoes and peppers from the market Ashes in the shape of hearts The ash left in my heart from a few extinguished cigarettes Was not enough to be reborn. I listened to Orhan Gencebay, if I must confess I paid the price, but Pollyanna Confession is a paper currency that is no longer in circulation. My life was a construction of unhappiness Pollyanna Cement, iron, mud... I would plaster my walls by singing poems and folk songs. Every day I would fall from the top floor Like a dark-skinned worker To a world whose language I didn't know My life was a construction of unhappiness Pollyanna When I waited for a reply to my letters written to you and happiness. I never had a village. No city hugged me with its snowy streets Like a mother in a flannel nightgown. If I adopted Istanbul It wouldn't adopt a thirty-year-old mother anyway As a child who lived for centuries. I couldn't become an integral part to any love Pollyanna I couldn't become a part to a book. I tried a seven-letter king-sized suicide from top to bottom. I couldn't complete any puzzle. If I stroked a cat, my hands would soften If I stroked someone, they would soften once. I couldn't become "ONE" to the one. There should have been frills on the edge of my life Pollyanna I should have gone to sleep as a poem with red polka dots and woke up with purple polka dots. My green frills shouldn't have regretted being there. My poems should have been the language of a gypsy. I am writing you this last letter, To tell you that I no longer expect a letter from you, Pollyanna, as a poet who did not dare to write her last poem. Didem MADAK Performed by: Bümbü Music: Gymnopedie No. 1 [Satie] #poetry #poems #didemmadak #didemmadakpoem #didemmadakpoems #motherpoems #literature #emotional #emotionalpoem #emotionalpoems #voiceover #poemvoiceover #gultenakin #edgarallanpoe #turgutuyar #nazımhikmetran #nazımhikmet #sadness #hope #unhappiness #charlesbukowski #love #whatdoyouknowaboutlove,sir #thingsaboutmymother #irisdeath #muttertree #drafts #wrensreport #iwanttowriteflowerpoems,sir #thelastlettertopollyanna #thelastlettertopollyannapoem #lovepoems #breakuppoems #peacepoems #nightpoems #sadnesspoems #rainpoems #louisaragon #thingsi'mtiredofandthegreenflannel #ağlayankaya #samsonvedalila #ilhanberk #ahmethamditanpınar #ümityaşaroğuzcan #necipfazılkısakürek #ahmettelli #blackandwhite #canyücel #attilailhan #ataolbehramoğlu #cahitzarifoğlu #erdembayazıt #pabloneruda #victorhugo #ahmedarif #yahyakemalbeyatlı #behcetnecatigil #nurullahgenç #ismetözel #cemalsüreya #metinaltıok #yavuzbülentbakiler #autumn #womenpoets #nilgünmarmara #fürüğferruzad #catshabits #headingonparagraph #128stitchpoem #whowilllookunhappy #youarealreadyamemory #antmyfaceisentrustedtopigeons #kurbati #intheeastofmyheart #debrisremovalworks #pollyannayaletters #expected #iamsanamecburum #icannotexplain #pavements #separationisincludedinlove #ifpoem #istanbulilistening #loveisfortwopeople #çanakkalemartyrs #ayselgitbamdan #thirtyfiveyearsoldpoem #monarosa #sezaikarakoç #everythingissecret #aboutliving #orhanvelikanık #cahitsıtkıtarancı #separation #gymnopedieno1 #gnossienne • Gymnopedie No. 1 [Satie]