Turkish Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

Happy Birthday to a Turkish Friend

Tesekkürler

Have you ever pondered your value?
Asking sincerely about your worth
Placing importance on a thank you
Playfully with words referring to your birth
You may ask simply what is the meaning?
Based on what is being written here
It's a poetic celebration of well-meaning
Referring to you because you're dear
The earth was blessed on that given day
Having been gifted someone truly special
Daily joy even on days that may seem gray
Always with your presence totally on the level
You make things truly better and whenever
Even on the days that you don't think so
Life becomes a smile with just a "whatever"
I just wanted you to understand and know
Forever thankful for you, even if your eyes begin to roll

Premium Member Degrees of Soul

(Turkish DOBAG rug)

Degrees of Soul

Awhile ago I got a Turkish rug that opened my eyes
To what real joy looks like
Transferred to one’s work.

In this rug I could see the soul of a weaver 
Proud to be part of a tradition
She added to with each delicate knot.

And with my eyes so opened 
I could clearly see by extension
The degree of soul of each work of art in my home.

And the range was startling 
From nonexistent to brilliant glimpses
Into the creative Mind of the universe.

After a few days my vision grew foggy again
And the soul of all these pieces
Became once more hidden beneath the surface.

The window onto the essence of the Mind
Had closed taking with it the lucid vision
And sense of connection.

I was left apart but never separate 
From the knowledge that soul truly exists
It’s mark on everything we do.

The degrees of soul are everywhere like this
Subtle and informing
Flavoring what it is we call quality of Life.

And so we live and breathe 
Taking and giving an essence beyond words
Even when unconscious clearly manifest.

(11/14/24)

turkish thoughts

It is important to vary the landscapes,
For the spirit to be happy,

But what soothes a lover?
The beauty of a mountain range,
The purity of a river, the silence of a lake,

It takes an inner garden to the soul,
To grow roses, orchids,
Daffodils and all kinds of sweets,

Only the sun has authority over the heart of man.



Il est important de varier les paysages,
Pour que l’esprit soit heureux,

Mais qu’est ce qui apaise un amoureux ?
La beauté d’une chaine de montagnes,
La pureté d’une rivière, le silence d’un lac,

Il faut un jardin intérieur à l’âme,
Pour y faire grandir des roses, des orchidées,
Des jonquilles et toutes sortes de douceurs,

Seul le soleil a autorité sur le cœur de l’homme.


Premium Member turkish coffee

turkish coffee is so grand

settled grounds of desert sand

fills a warm space

taste full of grace

time flavored layers expand.

Premium Member Turkish Sunrise

a gold orb of light
rises behind the mountains ~
a new day begins







Written 22 September 2020.

A Turkish Mother To the Kaiser -Ww1

How many sons 
  have we lost

How many demons
  have we found

How many graves
  must we dig

To make the ‘Fatherland’
  proud

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)


Eftelya

Mavi kubbe, sana savurdu beni.
Bedenimi çektin derinlerine.
Dünya büküldü o an.
Diplerindeyken ben,
siyah sularin doldurdu cigerlerimi.
Dalgalarin esir aldi ruhumu,
ben fark etmeden.
Billurlasti her sey,
sana aitken benligim.
Hiç oldum ilik rüzgarlarinla.
Zamanin disindaydim sanki bedenindeyken.
Yandim,
alev aldi maviliklerin.
Kayboldum,
can verdim çakillarina.
Söndüm,
eftelyalar dogdu denizinde.
Sonlardan en sonra
kizgin kumlarina vurdum senin.
Dünya dogdu o an.

Premium Member Choreography's Turkish Delight

Choreography’s Turkish Delight

On sediment at the bottom of the cup of societies 
   drags of dis-enfranchised masses are waiting for a
trickle from the leaks of luxury founded on coffee 
   planted on wealthy soil and pittances from labour

Reading the ground rules from a chalice turned
   upside down and upright once more the fortune
told and retold providence destined is unchanged
   its café royal remains a future chained to the past

The coffee knows what lies ahead no clairvoyance no
   Tarot palm lines crystal balls psychic power needed
on the menu of the human condition's commandments
   suspended the puppet master is still written in the stars

Strings attached Jo and Joan will always feed on scraps
   and they are strung to grinding bones and soul to the
core while exuding aroma of sweat blood and tears so
   that porcelain sheltered charm infuses delight for the few

In hypocritical slurps I write to the tune of my coffee and
   choreography remains until the revolution comes in vain

Premium Member Turkish Delight Jumble

Turkish Delight Jumble

‘Glorious’ gallimaufry 
crumbles confusion in vain
entrenched in Gallipoli
still no sense derived from pain

27th March 2017

Premium Member In a Turkish Prison

It was more than for just a little while.
Billy Hayes learned about prison Turkish style.
Smuggling hashish was a foolhardy thing.
His arrest at the airport was like a scorpion’s sting.
Back home, his friends and family tried every way
to get him released from the prison where he would stay.
Guards and fellow prisoners made life a living hell.
Miserable conditions prevailed where he did dwell.
Miraculously, Billy Hayes would survive,
even though years later, he was barely alive.

Based on the 1978 film “Midnight Express”

Premium Member Turkish Chant

we gathered our canteens
while coughing up
tar from the hidden gravel
across high terrain

through the mist of Ankara
teal fabric blew in the.breeze
over burnt orange fragments
torn from my temporal

mangled mind of madness
shifting the gates 
of emotional tiredness 
we'd waited above ground 

as the evening roared
past us again in solitude 
miles from Augsburg
I catered to the infamous thunder

beside the housing quarters
beneath the wretchid callings
shattered beyond such graveness 
that beckoned our soul's to port here 

a silence abode within me
amid the character lessons
followed abroad the cold shoulders
hitler had morbidly left behind

Delightfully Turkish

Tiny bus bumps along Ephesian roads 
bright orange sun hangs overhead scorching 
uneven ground lined with creases 
library; crumbled and marked 
with seal--Medusa’s hair 
coiling around, eyes 
burning my soul 
she sends chills 
down my 
spine.

Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace