I am writing with my burnt hand about the nature of fire. -Ingeborg Bachmann

In The Storm Of Roses - Poem by Ingeborg Bachmann

Wherever we turn in the storm of roses,

the night is lit up by thorns, and the thunder

of leaves, once so quiet within the bushes,

rumbling at our heels.

“My heart dresses in black and dances” Mary Oliver

                                            MOVEment: Chalayan x AyaBambi and Ryan Heffington

The Night Dances 

- Syliva Plath

A smile fell in the grass.

Irretrievable!

And how will your night dances

Lose themselves. In mathematics?

Such pure leaps and spirals-

Surely they travel

The world forever, I shall not entirely

Sit emptied of beauties, the gift

Of your small breath, the drenched grass

Smell of your sleeps, lilies, lilies.

Their flesh bears no relation.

Cold folds of ego, the calla,

And the tiger, embellishing itself-

Spots, and a spread of hot petals.

The comets

Have such a space to cross,

Such coldness, forgetfulness.

So your gestures flake off-

Warm and human, then their pink light

Bleeding and peeling

Through the black amnesias of heaven.

Why am I given

These lamps, these planets

Falling like blessings, like flakes

Six sided, white

On my eyes, my lips, my hair

Touching and melting.

Nowhere.

Please, let there be light by Ser Hibardiyan

"Hermès Ginza" window art installation by Tokujin Yoshioka 

please, let there be light

by Ser Hibardiyan

______________________________

let your patched eyes witness

an abyss with such deepness

more you stare, more it darkens

with sharp ears, it devours

how can we tell if the path is clear

no sign of caution is near

creeping tongue leaves us mindless

armageddons bells ignite the endless

sane thoughts, in the mud they are lost

dawn brings, a repeating madness

Applied Linguistics "History of Writing" @beykentunv

Applied Linguistics; Taboo or Not Taboo @beykentunv