THE EYES' HIDE OVER ME

Through the noon and the nights get started the kingdom of fights,

where aches off the wall and grievances in my soul taste all the sights

From the port at which I deserted who I really am, my sanity is covered with a hide,

Next to my humanity exists what is a melody in disguise; there is a road I can ride,

but with any attempt, the crying face of the sun falls down on me, making me mild,

No guides are present here and there around us, absent is the real sense of side

I am here crawling beside, waiting for my secret love begged to be my would-be bride

And the row and sow has shifted me into such a man in pursuit of what Ok-Em means,

my sparkling secrecy of love chases me to the marvelous hide of heaven and teens

As a man without the knowledge of what is meant by "first..."; I have got to know,

Swimming into the road of your eyes, this heart is day by day enhancing to grow

All the tints of masterpieces could only be invaluable over your skin and brow

Let my final destiny lie on your way, on your lip, on your lap and in your mornings

Let all the stars become really bright with the essence of your hand and longings

Dedicated to My Secret Love

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

1
Wall

I feel that the wall of my vein is thinning as minutes call for a farewell,

which brings with, after my death, a gate to heaven or hell

there will be no call on my gravestone, there will be only a cold wall

Whoa! the lady with endless gazes of stars and melting ice

Before the toll of death rings for that aching man,

will you hear of the sound screaming on your very eyes

will you touch the feel-nothing-sensational tan

will you henceforth lament for my going so far away

or will you stay behind a wall watching my corpse just like clay?

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Dedicated to My Secret Love

2
Patience

I am going to get down on writing the life story of Okan Emanet,

who is too shabby and miserable to deserve the throne of love-set

The lines will be all filled with the excellence of your paradise-eyes

As days will follow all the nights, this heart will pursue your very presence

The rank of being a self beside your dreams is too much for this sense

There will be sentences of longings for you; there will be the song of tears

There will be hidden the words of scream for you; there will be cries of fears

The hours clicking the scent of your existence, there will be your dynasty

The pages of lamenting will touch upon the day when I see your beauty

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Dedicated to My Secret Love

3
Sonnet #5 : no more line, no being so fine

In the long run of this life vanished many traces of line,

The inner wall of my heart is hinged with roads of scars,

How on earth I am expected to find a way to become fine!

Since your disappearance, that being has been filled with tars

Since your previous existence, that pale structure had flowered

Actually, rhymes and melodies cannot dance with your sense

Furthermore, I have got to carry a mass of body so lowered

In that manner, imagination and supposition are kept in a fence

Where labyrinths have put me into the hysteria ever told

Inside my soul is ticking the number of the days till I die

There is a man afterwards henceforth getting old and old

While watching the curtains of clouds, I am about to fly

Something really curious is pulling me into a callous core

Haplessly, I have been grown out of the resolution-door

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Dedicated to My Secret Love

4
Sessizliği Dinle

20.02.2010

İçimin sert esen rüzgârı çığlıklar attığında,

Sen bence sessizliği dinle
Anlarsın sensizliğimde aslında yaşıyorum seninle
Yüreğimde kanayan gözyaşlarında sesin kazılı
Nefes alış verişlerimde kalp atışların yazılı
Kalabalıkların arasında bilinmeyen sesler yayıldığında,
Bence sen sessizliği dinle
Dinlersin o zaman kalbim atıyor nefesinle

Gecelerin sabaha vuslat vurduğu anlarda,

Sensizliğin sessiz çığlıklarının ortaya çıktığı zamanlarda
Bence sen yine de sessizliği dinle
Anlatır sana; gözlerim parlıyor hayalinle

Sensizlikteki sessizlik hayatın yegâne masalı

Bence bu gereksiz yüreği kurban niyetine asmalı

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Dedicated to My Secret Love

5
Turn my page

March 16th, 2010

The feel-blissful sensation has become a thing of the past,
whereby charges over my soul are going on; this brain gets to blast
The seasonal changes have lost their sense in my life so terribly fast,
wherethrough the veins of love come to be contaminated onto this chest
Lies; only lies all around me, unfortunately
There seems no way to realize how possibly the man living inside my all will last...

So, the secrecy of love, just read these lines

And go on installing all types of aching fines...

Turn my page
And see how I have become too age
Turn my page
And read my mere adage
"The tears throughout my face never cease to exist"

Towards the encounter of day-passage, my mind only reads my insult,

wherein there has appeared heartaches and longing as my sole cult
I find it really difficult to hold this head for the shining morning
wherewith a heavy load of anguish falls upon me, leads to surrendering

Turn my page, my secret love, just turn my page

and witness how achingly there goes my life passage
and read into the lines of how this man failed to be sage
and finally burn your head with my mere adage
"if there is off the chance that love really lives,
this emotion of mine will carry it to you in beehives"

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Dedicated to My Secret Love

6
The flash of remedy

Among the aches

Upon what makes

My heart grow so tender,

All such rain drops surrender, when there rise your eyes-flash

In between what is raining heavily, my mind is getting a squash

I attempt to touch the picture arising out of the heavy fog

Suddenly, the unpalatable truth throws its pain-giving blog

Your absence stinks into my soul once the rain gets a stop

So calling for help from above, all the feelings just fly atop

The flag is swinging here and there, with the slight appearance of my lady

The rainbow is painted within your brilliant eyes, resembling the paradise

Your eyes, in face of my helpless being, turn into a flash of remedy

Counting the clicking hours, this weeping wreckage longs for making a size

So start to sing the wonderful song of the rain again through those lips

Witness how all these years have passed, how achingly love slips

Radiate the flash of remedy overall my breath

Call for that lamenting man only just before his death

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Dedicated to My Secret Love

7
Emotional Perfect Tense; modes of 8 and 3, dedicated to POETIWIFE

In the course of watching the movie over my face, something becomes really
plain,
There is a kind of fall-in-love sensation growing either inside or outside on a plane
When the drop falls upon my head soon after the burning sunny weather in the
rain,
Thoughts turn into a sort of chaos, whereby hearts are suffering due to the
blocked drain
There is neither a phrase nor a word left behind for anybody to be able to amply
explain
In your pointless absence, minds and souls are charged with nonsense, going too
insane
Whenever your miraculous appearance shines, I hold my breath within a heart-
lain;
Trying to catch your glance in a way, this poor being is loitering on the winding
lane,
Under which the veins throughout my body are smashed, hardly struggling to
maintain
Gain any type of gaze, my LOYOUVE; bring my very being into existence along
with the brain,
Since I have fallen into a deep hole of mindlessness and I have felled the device
of sense-crane
Invent a literature featuring all types of fiction and create a utopia that will
forever remain
I am in profound lack of your stars which might drop over my all, omitting the
touches to sustain
Left with a stone gathering no mass without you, this man is longing for you from
any train

8-3= 5; my love is five over five, my LOYOUVE...

Within the unconscious world you don't inhabit lives a man having coins of
feelings to spend,
The ground where you don't walk around is the stage on which this man has
grieves to expend,
Having filled the life with so many unknown words, the man has had the
respiration to suspend,
However, you are ocean apart from realizing the truth that the man has a
togetherness to intend;
There is a calendar drawn here and there, the dates of which never witness the
moment you attend,
My mind has built a fortress all around himself, thus being alert all the time in
order to defend,
"I am the heaven where you; my LOYOUVE, live at ease", which is the statement
that I contend,
The sand pieces of my soul have knelt upon your arrival, whereby they
dramatically extend

8+3= 11; The first '1' is my LOYOUVE, while the second '1' is me, which refers to
our marriage...

Too abrupt as it may seem, the volcanoes will erupt as I scream and ashes will
dance in the breeze;

8
You get to monitor the living beings run up and down and hear the deafening
sound they release,
In the aftermath of the action in turmoil, they will come to wonder who possesses
that tease
And a heavenly voice emerges from the hole of the earth, expounding the love-
spell at ease
In the wake of what has happened, your body will sense how terribly the weather
will freeze
My love is like the earthquake of the moon and My love is an eternal melody,
being at disease

8 * 3 = 24; I am attached to you; my LOYOUVE, even 7 over 24...

There has always existed a question in my mind since time tempted to seduce;
"At which love-stop will that heart have a rest?" a real conflict to reproduce,
My eyes are ardently after every clicking hour that your beauty has got to use
And create a lesson whose deadline is in paradise and which will always
introduce
There is a man nearby and he is crawling arduously; shed a light on me and I can
induce
8 / 3 = 2,666667 : Without you, I am deficient, I am insufficient and I am helpless

Just complete my sanity; my LOYOUVE so that I loyou've flown with happiness...

Written by
the master of loneliness,
loneliterature
Okan EMANET
Head Over Heels, dedicated to POETIWIFE July
13th, 2010

While flowing down with the mysterious essence,

The rivers and streams release what can be called your sense
All around the steps of the valleys shines the sun of your beauty,
Pointing the inner and outer parts of what is missing in me
Here and there, there is only one word rising; my Poetiwife
I've added myself sufficiently with the real meaning of life

Your eyes are the palace of freedom in my soul,

Your face is the expression of future in my heart,
Your voice is the sense of bliss for my all
As you see, my rhymerstar
I am head over heels in love with you...

Even though one day my body will leave that earth,

The rocks and mountains will go on screaming my eternal oath
The drops splashing the seaside will start to weep on your ways
From time to time, in between the kerbs of your walking and also for days
You will realize that the rate of my love will bleed in every aspect
The heaven or hell is going to salute my comings with their respect

Your manner is the way I behave,

Your style is what I've got to crave,
Your view is my magic

9
As you see,
I'm head over heels in love with you...

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Calendar, dedicated to POETIWIFE

Just like the location of the moon in the sky,

The papers of the calendar in my life get to fly
When the word “moon” loses its first two syllables,
“on” becomes into a body, coming before all day-babbles
As all the beings cling to each day, my life sticks to you
On Monday, On Yousday, On our Wednesday, or On Thursday
I am drawing a shadow beside mine, which has turned into clay
On the wall of tomorrow stands the picture of your pretty eyes
Such a glance have you left over my soul, a great gate to paradise

“Sleep” is now a kind of dance I’ve already forgotten

Something as ocean-blue as your very being has deleted the breath
The womanity in my calendar has gained the real meaning in fact
The humanity in my heart is rising and sunny days are falling to death
The love in my all has become a literature only to feature your act
I’ve created a heart so fragile and depleted all the motten

Now, put a new trace on the dates of the calendar

And utter something spelling you and me;
Otherwise, I will lose everything and surrender
Let the calendar be on our side
Come onto my ways and be my bride
With the brilliant dress, into my own sight
Just as your name refers to being all alone
Let this soul be lonely, solely with your lovely-tone

Written by

10
 the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Beyond the clouds, dedicated to POETIWIFE July 15th, 2010

I am a man with countless wounds in the heartache kingdom

As a crying baby suffers from tortures in the camp of serfdom
All around by bleed and feed soul exists only one word "boredom"
Among the cold bushes of the crowds, I demand to be your freedom

Having released what is kept as a secret to your heart,

That man is huddling round the fire, yelling to be your other part
Uniting all the dispersed traces of love will be my main art,
Whereas the trains of my soul are equipped but told apart

Such an excellence has God drawn upon your face,

Behind the curtains of mystery and beyond the love-maze
Waiting for your presence with sheer patience and to surface
Ready to annihilate the borders circling around the bliss-lace

Before too late,

Let us go for this fate,
Against every rate,
Come under the tent of state,
Save me up to your smile and laughter
'cause I feel so cold and slender
'cause I am about to surrender

11
 Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Bathing in tears... dedicated to POETIWIFE

With the same song on and on for a long time,

With a heart utterly away from each life's rhyme,
With the loads of tears dropping in a bleeding way,
With the awesome knife in my hand drawing my say,
With the heartache never to be seen on any x-ray,

I am bathing in the pool of tear-drop of my own

Handkerchiefs have had my eyes' blood flown
There is a kind of charge over my soul
I have deleted the mindfulness as a whole

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

12
The Failure of etymology, dedicated to POETIWIFE

There is no talented characterization for the grace on your eyes,

Nor is there equivalence in the kingdom of miraculous paradise
Every field of etymology becomes disabled in front of your glance;
What you have left as a trace over me is written in my own sense
The wind over my head is performing a hilarious and blissful dance
Nights are in pursuit of your shining star,
Whereas your absence is growing as a big scar
Heal my soul with your ever-sparkling presence;
Otherwise, my veins are drowned into the sea-lance
Even though the bard of all the poets struggle to create a phrase,
There only arise several anonymities and the thunderous maze
The origin of every word carries something from your very existence;
Besides, the lurking bodies' movement speaks of your nameless stance
Lo! The founder of the universe
Draw me a picture smelling of a wonderful verse
Your scent has turned into a palace of heaven screaming of hers

Written by

the master of loneliness,

13
 loneliterature

Okan EMANET

BETULIP, dedicated to POETIWIFE

Over the valleys of my heart extends a new flower,

Throughout the empire of lonesome plants grows an unusual clover
The prophecy to be uttered is a sure star for any evil eye,
Whereby an excellent waterfall arouses a lie and tie
You are my beauty, the name of whom is Betulip
Let me sigh over, shining every morning so as to have a love-clip
Let me water my leaves that are about to wither and slip
Intensify the inner and outer part of the world, let it be tulip
There is a world lying here; let it die out through your lip

You've glanced at me before,

But I certainly need much more;
Otherwise, I am standing at your door

Written by

the master of loneliness,

14
 loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Person's Effect: My Perfect, dedicated to POETIWIFE

Just as God controls all His sons in the rhyme of universe,

We are called "Per-son" in the realm of any verse
And the resulting effect is the divine mood and ease
The individuals get a sacred shelter in case of tease
The combination of person with the effect is our being perfect,
Which altogether explains why my soul feeds on your fact
If required to reach a healthy characterization on your eyes,
That spirit is obliged to be embodied into Shakespearean size;
Besides, that existence is bound to play the role of Poe's cries
Nothing can compare with the way you smile,
Nor is there any sonnet equipped with intonation-mile
In between the lines of all the stanzas emerges your stance,
Forcing that pen to note down the manner your perform a glance
Per-heart cannot stay apart 'cause your breath is my part
Not a morning can wear daylight unless a sentence smells your start
My mere magic in that world;
Soulize me, realize me, recognize me, have a paradise in me, Betulize me, re-size me, thouprize
me as a whole
Let that heart be perfect in your very being...

Written by

15
 the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Soul as a whole, dedicated to POETIWIFE

Owning a heart without any expectations is my literature,

When it comes to the sound of the lovely nature,
The veins on the leaves of soul draw your picture
On its reflection appears my unique teacher

Love resembles an empty paper you hang on the moon;

That's why your pen cries with inks and tears alone
Patience might make you a patient suffering from any tune
Think about a remedy that will emerge so soon

Love me as a whole,
Though there isn't even a reason;
Love me as a whole,
'cause love is putting piles of bricks on me

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

16
 Okan EMANET

My Chimera, dedicated to POETIWIFE

Sitting at the doorstep of the destiny,

The rhyming soul sheds the tears of blood
There is no sound coming from the tune of humanity
And shine the very existence of a lady on my plot
The hands, faces and feet are washed away with a language
The lines throughout my being are only home to an adage
"Create a fate including the nature of my POETIWIFE"
The inks of my pen are going to and fro in my life
Your one statement whispers the entrance to paradise
As I am littering the ashes of cigarette packed with eyes,
Among them sun-rise the layers of my dream-like star
Alongside the kerbs of my heart walks merely splendid scar,
Which doesn't give any pain but reveals how we are
Let all the drops of rain fall on my head,
I am in pursuit of you whether alive or dead
If there is a day under the name of tomorrow,
Let it smell of your breath on the very morrow;
Otherwise, I will get submersed in the pool of sorrow
I have a palace in my heart
The resident of which is my Chimera-lady
The walls of which are heaven-tint
You are my sole seven-heaven

17
I feed on so-all-ul
I Bet you will be Ok with my Pen forever!

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

Kneeling for your ways, dedicated to POETIWIFE

When told to hold a pen in order to write a poem,

The sacred feeling over the mountains asks who I am
In response, that being is water flowing with soul,
Carrying the pieces of rocks that will never stay cool

Initiate me with glance,

Fabricate me with one stance,
Litigate me to the divinity-sense,
Subjugate me along the ships of Pence

Whether a mountain or a bay in the horizon,

Love is a sword enabling one to have fights
No matter which day brings another season,
The world has already swum with your lights

Hold a pen, My Poetiwife

Have a seat by my life
Stick the bleeder-knife
The heart will only spell
And therefore will tell
"Life without is uniquely hell"

18
 Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

The Brutal Time, dedicated to POETIWIFE

For anyone to challenge love, it is necessary to be sad

You carry the ashes along your heart you have to add
Time becomes a callous instructor, leading to go mad
Who has come before will go by who is passing by their hat
Among the traces I have collected throughout the years
This poor being has harboured at yousport with the tears
While cleansing what has bled my soul, I hold the fears
Into the reflection on my heart, there is a melody
Opening any surrounding with the same key and beauty
The lack of your face here and there places the fury
A term rises in my spirit; namely, the "abetsence"
The chaos left behind can be illuminated with chance
That the game of destiny displays your brilliant glance
Thoughts are the meal I once ate on your eyes,
Which turns out to be the way I become consider-ate
Politeness is the natural effect of my love-paradise
Memorizing every phrase is the master of my mere fate
The boisterous rivers are full of your smiling way
I am in the world in which not to stay
Find my road that runs towards your kingdom
Your absence will only make me live in serfdom

19
 Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

The Silence of a Funeral, dedicated to POETIWIFE

A body filled with the stars of your appearance

Has fallen on the soil, bleeding at people's glance
Something is getting brown on his face; the crowds of ants
One day, this corpse is going to feed the lovely plants
The leaves of the flowers hold the tears of my funeral
Whereas the beloved gather around me during the burial
Nobody can touch me, even the hands of my Poetiwife
Nobody can see me, even the eyes of my life
Nobody can...

"I have had enough of you",

"My absence will be your penalty",
"Only because of you do I not exist beside you"
The above-mentioned statements will be on my gravestone
The story of a man who spent his life all alone
Will never again touch the buttons on the phone
Nobody will listen to me, the ever-weeping tone
Even the ears of my Chimera will not reach my sun,
Everybody will merely talk about me on their own run

Beget a son, Lo! The mothers

A son who will do much more than this poor

20
A son that will realize what is lying under this core
A son that manages to find out the right sentence
A son that will be away from my own sense

Beget a daughter Lo! The mothers

A daughter that carries the eyes of my unborn child
A daughter who dances with grace and becomes mild
A daughter that teaches how to stop being wild
A daughter that will resemble my Poetiwife

Written by

the master of loneliness,

loneliterature

Okan EMANET

21