IRISH EYES: A DISCLOSURE

by Hasan Ali TOKUQIN
(Istanbul/TURKEY)

Dear Mary Sullivan,
It has been six years now
Since I left your home in West Roxbury.

I was angry with you
But when I look back
Things seems different now.

I realized that I missed you so much
I had left a broken heart behind me

Maybe I was such a prick
Miss Sullivan,
But you were not perfect either
You were a disgrace to Irish hospitality.

You always complained
About my manners
The way I pissed and peed
In the tiny restrooms.

We had arguments like a husband and wife
Time to time you made me a fool.

My eyes were looking for you all the time
My ears were attentive to hear your voice.

While laying in the coach
With your morning gown on you,
You were watching TV and chatting with me.

I was fixing my eyes on you
When you were in a nice dress at supper
I was telling you how pretty you looked in this dress.

I know
It was a short time
Just 4 weeks
It seems improbable to say such a thing
But I think
The tension between us was love.

I always hated the emotions caused by love
A mind fixated and obsessed with just one person
Being smitten to that person
Longing and the missing the beloved one all time
Silly things done by both sides
Inspiring resentment.

Instead of love
We were supposed to be making love.

Laying in the coach and watching TV together
Eating suppers silently, looking each other's eyes
Taking baths together
And making love again most of the time.

Living an uneventful and sedate life
In the suburban heaven of West Roxbury.

Like in the garden of Eden.
Just you and me.

Once you said
That you passed the years for babies
That you were too old for them.

But I was your baby
You were my dearest, my sweet heart
And you will always be.

You were never married like me
What a waste for a Irish rose like you
Pretty, strong and handy.

Oh baby, your love is so intense
So powerful
Sometimes it suffocates me.

I cried many times for you
When I was laying in bed
And looking to the ceiling in the dark
Warm tears were streaming from my eyes.

I had counterpoints
I sneezed when you sneezed
I coughed when you coughed
I laughed when you laughed
I mirrored every you move you made
From hundreds of miles away.

I hope my tears were not in vain
I hope you deserved them
I hope you loved me a little
I hope this poem unchained my heart from your love.

I've loved many women before
Maybe I will love many of them.

But you are my greatest love
Nothing will change that.

I want to leave your love behind
With this poem
And find new ones.

But if you give a whistle for me
I will fly to your arms again
I will bust and crash you with hugs and kisses
Maybe giving you babies this time.



P.S. Mary Sullivan was my host during my stay at Boston.


Hasan Ali TOKUQÝN
Istanbul/TURKEY.