Treasure Island

Metin Sahin

(28.03.1943 / balı kesir turkey)

EVERY MORNING


every morning...he takes his off...his eyes...from their places...clumsily...lazı ly.....as he...as he leaves out..and gets out of his dreams...then he...puts on his feet...counts his arms..and if his fingers are in teir right places and complete...he places his head to its usual place...he then takes out his stomach....pours some tea in it....and silently...goes out...leaves to work...there he takes out his feet again...his fills his head with many troubles....in evening he returns home..his lonely home...then counts his broken hopes...he leaves one of his feet in the kitchen..the other on the streets....then scatters his fingers in the house...then goes....to sleep...to dreams...

Submitted: Sunday, March 15, 2009

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  • Prince Obed de la Cruz (8/9/2009 3:47:00 AM)

    The poem is great but it would be better if you'll divide it into stanzas. For me, sometimes it's hard to read a poem if it's not divided into stanzas because I have a feeling that it is too long but it's not long (Report) Reply

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