ebru pessoa

“If you are looking for me
I am beyond nowhere [ … ]

Beyond nowhere there is a place desire opens
like an umbrella,
breeze like thirst sinks deep into the leaves.

Bells of rain carol fresh watery tunes
about how lonely humans are here
where the shadows of tree trunks stream into
endlessness.

If you are looking for me,
come soft and quietly, lest you crack the glass
heart
that cups my loneliness.”
― Sohrab Sepehri, The Oasis of Now: Selected Poems

“It's terrible sometimes, inside," he said, "that's what's the trouble. You walk these streets, black and funky and cold, and there's not really a living ass to talk to, and there's nothing shaking, and there's no way of getting it out- that storm inside. You can't talk it and you can't make love with it, and when you finally try to get with it and play it, you realize nobody's listening. So you've got to listen. You got to find a way to listen.”
― James Baldwin, Sonny's Blues

“İçmek de bir tür anlatmaktı ona göre. Yudumunu alır, daha o an gözleri dalar, içtiği nesne üzerine kimse bu kadar uzun düşünemez.
Ve gençliğimde, kadınıyla, erkeğiyle herkesin bana tutkun olduğu o yıllarda, dedi, gelip buraya girdim, saplandım. Beni kurtarmak istediklerini sananlar oldu, kurtulmamak üzere geldiler, kurtulmamak üzere gittiler. Ve dünyanın bu çekici deliğinde, sanki yıllar sonra yeniden tutacağım şu ellerini sürekli yakaladım. Bırakırsam batarım sanma, ellerini tuta tuta nasıl battığımı seyret. En eski din de, en eski oyun da budur''.”
― Hulki Aktunç, Ten ve Gölge

“This may be hard to believe, coming from a black man, but I’ve never stolen anything. Never cheated on my taxes or at cards. Never snuck into the movies or failed to give back the extra change to a drugstore cashier indifferent to the ways of mercantilism and minimum-wage expectations. I’ve never burgled a house. Held up a liquor store. Never boarded a crowded bus or subway car, sat in a seat reserved for the elderly, pulled out my gigantic penis and masturbated to satisfaction with a perverted, yet somehow crestfallen, look on my face. But here I am, in the cavernous chambers of the Supreme Court of the United States of America, my car illegally and somewhat ironically parked on Constitution Avenue, my hands cuffed and crossed behind my back, my right to remain silent long since waived and said goodbye to as I sit in a thickly padded chair that, much like this country, isn’t quite as comfortable as it looks.”
― Paul Beatty, The Sellout