Deutsche Literatur/Grausam Nacht von Leila Cankaya

Poet Leila Cankaya Photos, Born in Germany-21.July, 1966

Bird's Spirit

This is the bird's spirit that 

Deadly devoted to its independence.

Even if it knows it will die soon, one day,

It will fly again, with its broken wing 

and it will fly away to its own death...

Bird's Spirit © Leila Cankaya 

Blue Umbrella

Suddenly the tiny guy 

appeared in front of my eye.

Where does he come from?

There was no one around...

His nice perfume wrapped my soul, 

until now my nose didn't smell such a nice scent.

If he wasn't such a feeble and ugly, maybe 

I would like to take care of him in the end...

I saw his face only from the side, 

a little bit unlikable.

He went into a very expensive cafe bar,

I looked inside for a while from afar.

Outside, in the air that perfume still, 

something that breaks the will,

I almost got in.

For a moment he turned this way and

looked at me.

God! What are those eyes? 

A human or from the jinn?

I was startled, sheltered more 

under my blue umbrella.

The people inside stood up, 

for a while, merrily: o la la!

Didn't anyone realise of these piercing eyes that 

I  noticed afterward.

Because of the perfume... 

Maybe just this perfume 

had a pulling power, 

everybody gathered around him 

welcomed him in a regard...

Inside there's luxury chandeliers at the ceilings,

on the seats satin pillows.

He sat on a seat and requested a good wine mark.

The freak turned back and looked at me, 

as if he knew I was here, 

I was in a strange light fear...

Why did he look at me God knows.

Maybe just because of this curse

the sky would get dark of course

I  walked away.

In the back street, 

suddenly a red cloaked woman appeared, 

she approached and murmured something.

But I didn't understand...

i timidly looked at her, in a strange sentiment.

I could only choose the word, 'street' among words.

I guessed she was looking for the main street

from her face statement.

I showed her the street side with my hand,

the Blue umbrella in my other hand.

Or was it showing me the objects 

such a strange thing, when I hide underneath?

Everything seemed strangely different 

in my eye range.

A few seconds I looked back.

The woman in the red cloak was coming back.

As if again she was going to ask something.

Under the red cloak her legs seemed 

longish and thin.

She was walking fast 

like a senseless machine.

Yes, like I guess, she approached and 

was going to ask something again 

with incomprehensible words.

My eyes on her legs again, longish and thin.

O God, is she one of the jinn?

Yet she was looking for the main street, 

little beyond up, down, she walked around.

Then she gazed at me and tried to say something,

but not a word came out of her mouth, 

she was silent...

The situation turned to persecution.

Then, the rain became more violent.

Finally I entered into an empty courtyard,

under the ramping downpour.

There's no the fragrant man, when I look back,

neither a woman in red cloak,

nor rushed shadows passing randomly,

no body remained around.

Were they real people?

No one left with the rain drops, they disappeared.

blue umbrella © leila cankaya 

for a comment,

cankayaleila@gmail.com

leila Cankaya quote

no one can give you freedom, it's already belong to you 

Cruel night, Leila Cankaya

Leila Cankaya Pictures

Machine

Can a human love a machine? I did it. 

Gears, they have rytmhic moves, 

dark brown, it prints the paper

ever the same movements, carefree.

A man would stand next to it,

controlling it with his hand.

Machine is working honestly non-stop.

It was a press machine,

I watched it in admiration,

the spectre enchanted me.

In the dark evening, near the shop

Machine is working like a careless snob.

I was watching but at the same time

My eyes were looking around anxiously,

those who see me, might think I was crasy.

Finally, I walked away...

The rytmhic sounds liky endlessly 

Can it turn a human

Would it be a miracle?

If I love it enough.

I was going there almost every day.

More and more I was obsessed with it

With a passion,

my soul slowly turned to the machine.

One day in the dark

one guy in the park...

He was watching me with evil looks.

I fled, a pang inside me.

Can it turn a person 

if I give it my spirit?

I didn't go there for a while 

I couldn't do it.

But the machine is still in my mind 

in the end, I decided to see it again.

Around of atelier there was large and empty

A construction site.

Trashes, stuff that doesn't work anymore 

My God machine! There...

A baton beside it.

No way, no!

Such a silent, static.

Someone had broken it or

naturally it was broken

I don't know, 

Then I understand that , 

I was a miserable romantic.

But the truth is, it never says a lie.

As if for a moment I saw a movement.

Over it a few drops, does it cry?

My God, can I bring it back 

with my prayer?

A few minutes later, rain got faster

Hopelessly I left it.

When I smile to a Cruel

When I smile to a cruel, 

one bird dies somewhere far away,

lies in front of my eyes,

the sacrifice 

of my weakness....

About Leila Cankaya...There is too much thing to say, but shortly I will try to tell about myself. I was born in Germany Ludwigsburg, 21.july.1966 as daughter of a Fabrik workers family....I have academy diploma from Istanbul Cibali Girls high school.. Afterward, for 8 years I worked in ISKI Water management , in Istanbul Aksaray... About 17 years I'm writing, short stories, poetry.. Actually I was writing earlier, but I decided to publish them little late...I'm divorced and I have a son... Recently poems are available in Google search... Also I have ebook free, narrative poetry, "Day Dreamer" consisted of 3 stories.... on Scribd company... some my favorite poems, here...if you know me more, read my stories and poems.