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Ibrahim Ercan

of

Kahramanmaras, Turkey

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Cycling the Accustomed Sphere

by

Ibrahim Ercan

What has changed so far I ask
from the primitive to the coming rest
We love, hate, fear and envy
what the nature of man can see

Man is still in his surrounded wall,
cycling the accustomed sphere of war

Peace when we need to have a rest
in the course of the biting distress

Silence! Please, in the chambers of soul
Man still needs to learn more.


The Grace

by

Ibrahim Ercan

The moment you fall into my heart
I will be looking through your eyes
With a sweet smile on my face
I will let myself soar to your grace.

In the blue skies over there
Could you take my soul away
To your beautiful realm of gratitude
As the perfection of your magnitude.

Nothing more than a shadow
Of your light in this world of hollow
Will be something of sorrow
When I didnít perceive the real joy.

Coming out of nothingness
When I was something of ignorance
Then I became a thing in this field
Of planting my everlasting seed.

My birds, flying in the seven layers
Carry a message on their wings
For those who can feel the grace
Of flying up in the lofty place.

The Truth Hunter

by

Ibrahim Ercan

Your grace, shining in all seconds of passing time
With the penetrating feeling of heart so divine
Gives me undiluted sweetness of think
Of your awe-inspiring loftiness the moment I blink.

Everything, prostrating in all their strength
To glorify your countless blessings so great
Are harmoniously singing the hymn of eternity
By praising your names, full of sublime dignity.

Reflections of your names in this sovereignty
Are the images of sunshine, hidden in the purity
Of believing in your absolute Omnipresence
Without ascribing any idols that are meaningless.

Those, conceived by the increasing delusions
Of Satan, always at the back of decisions
To astray man from the path of righteousness
By degrading him from the rank of nobleness.

Your Beloved ensued in the wilderness of Arabia
To rescue mankind out of this deuced malaria
Of turning down the pearls of the Blessed Book
That was revealed with the Trustworthy Spirit.

His conduct you praised in your purified pages
Just as the reflections of your timeless messages
On the surface of the earth was an exemplary attitude
As dear Ayeshah praised him as the epitome of servitude.

As a rosy memorial in the garden of history
I feel obliged to proclaim his mystery
Which made people live in the serenity
Of thought and action in simplicity.

We were honored with descending of the Criterion
From the exalted throne to this field of exertion
Coming with the purified pages therein
To warn and herald the people and jinn.

Its message, full of pearls is tour de force
With the sweetness of listening to its voice
Every verses and chapters of that eternal message
Bears the wisdom of truth for man in this passage.

The Bitterly Missed One

by

Ibrahim Ercan

O! The one who came from the candid place
to guide us towards the core of infinite grace
of Allah Almighty who is in His exalted place
It's He, showed His beauty on all beings' face

Without you there would be no illumination of living
who would make us prosperous on the coast of being
with your God-made ship in this ephemeral, tiny thing
to take us to eternal adobe of the One, everlasting

Your bounteous mercy that embraces the all living
in this universe for all that possess the feeling
of being subservient to the One, the All-Hearing
will make them taste the sweetness of believing.

Anything that doesn't exhort your love of mercy
upon mankind like a sun with its cool intimacy
will certainly perish like ashes of fire slowly
by leading them to the world of loneliness wholly

On the Day of Judgment everyone will be questioned
from what they've done as they've been guided
with revelations, pouring from the skies, protected
from the accursed ones with firing stones, hurled.

Only your light will rescue us out of such grief
by guiding the people to the rose bed of belief
in every soul of man just as fidgeting, divine relief
as how one gets it through the mystery of belief.

The Light

by

Ibrahim Ercan

In the secret time of the Dawn,

We search the light of Divine.

We turn our eyes to eternity,

and hope to be in safety.

It's the light, comes from eternity,

It stands for the peace of humanity.

Those who reached it are all happy

and wish only the life of eternity.

O! Our Lord, bestow us the light holy,

Please! Do not leave our souls in agony.

Surely You are the One and Holy,

Only will give us the light holy.

Then comes the help of the Creator,

It's the solemn voice of all creatures.

The Next Journey

by

Ibrahim Ercan

No real escape from anything you digest

All you need is just an action to get best

Day and night you waste your time in vain

Any rescuing hand in practice is no villain.

To your understanding everything is naught,

just a thing to rejoice at the best thought

you hear no thunder in sight in your world

Alas! Where the hell all intimacies streaked

without escorting any worldly goods indeed!

You're alone now in this desert, having no water

stranded in the very core of thirst for a better

life when given the opportunity to turn back later

to spend it on the edge of good and bad whatsoever.

'Too late, man! ĎItís said to new, eternal dwellers

of the new adobe, ready to welcome misleaders

giving loads of love with scalding hot embraces.

There they will dwell on the things in repentance.

A shabby life

by

Ibrahim Ercan

life with its vague complexity

bites me in its poisonous sea

my body is trembling

like a sparrow in a tree

with fears and cold emotions

that I canít make out

the question about

what is life?

I can see nobody,

looking out the fogy

windows of my soul

but itís me

who will figure out

the gist of my broken story

children of a lost

country with no mum and dad

their dreams are mere dead

in the terrifying field of ghost

their plans are the most

god-damned!

who will remember!?

the injured and the disabled

or the raped brutally

on the pages of history

with dirty and bloody ink

no eraser will blot out

the sin that they committed

save the blazes of a furious fire

in the hollows of forgotten dire

no body will feel sorry

as no relation or tie

is with them now ready

the children of a doomed country.

A Wonder of Creation

by

Ibrahim Ercan

Your soul in a glass of vibrating water

reminds me of that perfect Maker

with an art of creation in the subtle manner

through the mystery on the path of the Shaper.

When I drink it up with an exhilarated feeling,

it slakes my thirst for that desire, so long lasting

by making me a drop of rain, falling to the ocean

lets my heart soar over the vastness of blue waves.

A particle in the horizon of light, having all the colors

of that eternal Light, coming far from the Unseen,

sets my heart on your marvelous, tremendous nature

thatís the eternal source for every living creature.

Every line, written in the chapters of the great Book

in every part of it is hidden a really wonderful look

for those who gaze upon in the reflective attitude

to the style of the Writer who has perfectly created.

Escapade without Time

by

Ibrahim Ercan

dreamy imaginations, hung in the short-sighted eyes

with a slap to darkness and a hand of merci to days

while waiting between two points

the zipped life trauma tics

with the clipped wings of time

the disabled trusty dove

which canít fly up in the heavens

while watching the dreams

when loneliness stole

the wisdom, built with light beams

the empty shells, scattered through the streets

who will remember all these calamities?

when the moon enshrined its wavy, smiling skirts

from the strange, worldly skins

and now the winds of darkness

licking the covers of street pavements

the last elegy of the ancient city

would the police of time remember

the thieves who stole the naked folk songs

or the hollowed ashes on the brittle shelves?

My missing ball

by

Ibrahim Ercan

all the missing pieces of my life glimpse at me

as how the moonshine is seen

through the leaves of my lonely body

a lost memory of the past,

in a dusty speck all at once

with a blink of eye I recall

what the broken pieces in my ball,

rolling down through streets of ambiguity

on the edges of past and now

where the paths fork into

deaf and blind alleys that I donít know.

with my worn up, old shoes

I find myself in the uncharted waters

to protect my winter flowers

in their hot frames

unconscious of the present,

flying on the wings of my birds

there in the sky!

here I try

to find a place

that will take me

to somewhere else

as clear as the unclothed sky

where my birds can fly

to the east when the sun is up

in the hills of my fluctuating heart

on their wings they carry me

on one side is my soul

on the other side is my body

I set sail to eternity.

A Log in the Sea

by

Ibrahim Ercan

When your tender heart is perplexed by the itchy tides

Of your fluctuating emotions, dropping in your coast sides

Unaware of the secret gleam of that flourishing might

Be ready to uncover the mystery of that eternal light

Thatís from your God. With the pressure of the moon

Youíll be feeling the grace that will come soon.

When your wooden-made ships sank

In the wilderness of the oceans below

Hoping to reach the comfy bank

Let your heart grasp the pearls above.

Like Jonah when he was swallowed

By a whale in the sea of blank thought

Only his cry to his Lord was responded

Rejecting the all helpers that were naught.

When night, whale, weather and angry waves were his enemies

There was only his Almighty Lord who could subdue all these

Giving His hand to him to catch the life buoy of eternal living

To set sail across the vast oceans of his Lord the ultimate being.

Who can help you in this awesome darkness

Of thought and feelings when you are helpless

With the irritating feeling of death, following

Like your dark shadow while you are walking.

You in this poisonous sea of emotion

Shiver with the cold feeling of voyage

To the imperishable land of perfection

With some difficulty to pass this passage.

And man forgot his Lordís loftiness

As he was taken from nothingness.

With his spurious whispers of evilness

Devil gives you some water of delusions

To drink it and get drunk in hallucinations

Of illusionary and so called happiness.

Being lead astray from the straight way

Ignoring the merci of your God, you day

By day draw close to the next journey.

The moment death angelís before you

To take your soul that is in expired due

You canít act now in this life channel

Your stream doesnít flow to the eternal runnel.

Unaware of the confidential postal

Of your relatives to the ground hotel

You canít bring any partner to mingle

With you as this hotel is for a single.

Who can challenge the entire negative?

You spent your life as a sinful fugitive

Without your Godís good consent

Leave a message that youíre absent

From the rapturous joy of the countenance

Of your Lord youíve never been in repentance.

And man forgot his Lordís clemency,

Leaving himself in the sheer deviancy.

O our bountiful and merciful God

Give us your imperishable hand

To pull us from the well of sin

To your calm and relaxing inn.

Any word, flying up in the heavens,

Canít glorify you in prefect meanings

Only your heart-illuminating light will be manifest

All over the world even though unbelievers detest.

A prescription for our malady

That we ignored as a sheer melody

Is your Blessed Book in harmony

Though we consider it as agony.

Weíll write our inmost feeling

On a pure log, floating in breaking

Waves, visiting our sinful shore

That our intimate emotions bore.

Pouring its overflow water

To the hearts of oceans

Open their gates later

To your splendid heavens..

The Passenger

by

Ibrahim Ercan

In the middle of weak and strong dreams,

the two tips of magnets in their beams.

Wherever he turns his eyes,

the game of the invisible and his mice.

The tricks of owl and the threads of dove

One must wrap up that momentís flying soul.

Human faces, hung in the city balconies

The cat of the house and the othersí symphonies_

The black holes and moles of scorpions

that we squeezed to one side of our pockets

and the eye of our ears when it sometimes sleeps.

The door creak that pierces the moment

and now the last passenger of this city is coming

with spiky feathers and light pebbles.

Outside of Time

by

Ibrahim Ercan

Human bundles walk on the one way road
With the rush of life, zipped to bus stop intervals
Children of time wait on the pavements
Of non-existing route.

While strolling in the suburbs of the city
Against all of the trafficís difficulty

And a group of women, outside of an excluded life
With containers and cardboard chunks.

The changed face of the same source;
One is money and the other is cardboard
One is in the pocket and the other is in the street halls.

Crooked Look

by

Ibrahim Ercan

Twisted smiles on the wavy face
shift the tides of emotions in their bays
Now and then what the mystery bear
the wisdom I washed in the weeping rain.

Talking shadows, hidden in the moonless night
with bare dreams shiver in the spiky heart.

The axis of time, running in its cradle
up and down, bouncing the momentís candle

There with the children of ages at last,
Play without the rush of life in the leaking past.