Three dots can say it all… — … Three dots. Ellipsis. A full stop that doesn’t want to be alone. An ending that continues. A declaration of an omission; an omission which reverses itself, if decoded by the reader. A manifestation of cowardice on its one “edge”, but the absolute courage on its other. …

Weekend’s prompt: inner situation=>outer projection — Lion, lion, Where are you? Will you come out of the blue? If I kill you, would this mean I’m a monster, too within? Was your figure in written formed just for secrets to be unexposed? I am ready to confront all the symbols you enclose. You exist for me to…

or in the singer’s mind — I say the first words of the song so, I am the most important, said the couplet full of anger, trying to satisfy its ego’s hunger. Who remembers the beginning? Everyone waits for my climax, answered the refrain with arrogance, thinking as “I”, not as “us”. Calm down, my fellow…

Back to where they belong — The black dot faced ostracism from its community; the members of the white sea screamed: “NO to impurity”. It felt confused, alone, and disoriented. Rolling purposelessly was all it did. Somehow it climbed a mountain — by rolling upwards, yes— ; exhausted from the heat, but it could never guess… …

Putin, NATO, the others, and …us — We’re stuck in the middle, between two teams that play a kind of political dodgeball, forming humanity’s decay. Putin is pissed at NATO and NATO is pissed at him. The EU is the underdog; a flashy-but-broken team. Oil and gas, money and power; the map is on the table. Civilians and soldiers…

A poem inspired by the new war — A lion saw a human in the jungle and ate him due to hunger. The reason was just that; survival, not ego and anger. It didn’t think for days and nights about revenge or domination. It doesn’t plan attacks out of desire for conquering another animal “nation”. It may be…

I wonder — How? How did you breathe in that suffocating camp of anti-life? Which wing-full force was keeping you alive? What? What kind of mental liquid comforted your soul’s thirst? What inner processes did you invent as your “nest”? Where? Where could you feel safe for a minute or second in that kingdom of…

A call for investigation — Just an opportunity for research; that’s what sadness and pain are. I follow them like an investigator every time they come. The skies open when my pain reaches a level high. Answers hang by a thin thread over my mysterious mind. All I have to do is dig and dig to find the sky at the end of my…