We should think of each new day as a brand new page of life
**It should be something that every person desires and cannot deny. Ultimately, most of us are chasing our hopes for the future under various conditions, even if we don't want to.**
**Swiss Theologian Carl Bard said: “Nobody can go back and make a new beginning, but anyone can start now and make a brand new ending.” says. It also points out that it is necessary to think of each new day as a brand new page of life. Yesterday won't come back, and it's sooner for tomorrow. So what we have left should be "the moment we live", right?**
**To live better in front of people,**
**realizing you're really alive**
**In the face of fundamental problems,**
**The question remains, what prevents them?**
**What causes us to make a fresh start and to wake up to each new dawn more quickly? How involved are we in life or how meaningfully can we live our lives? As the subject in your life, are we at peace with ourselves?**
**There are few people who have been able to discover their own limits, reach the right answers by questioning the meaning of their existence, and be conscious of their mistakes and truths. Some do not know what narcissism is, but live as a fundamental narcissist, while others cannot find the ground to reflect their ingenious knowledge and skills. Using the "life" award or chance, which will not be given a second time, in any way, is beyond choice in this sense, of course. What's the point of waiting for days on a road where the bus will never come?**
**If we were to ask people whether they were happy about the moment they lived, the majority of them would say that they postpone this pleasure to the next steps in life: "When the next week, if I retire next year or when school is over I hope, ... etc., in essence, words that are always postponed to later.**
**I think. But is there any guarantee that we will actually finish school, stay healthy by next week, or retire?**
**I think what we can deduce from this is that there is an undeferred side of life. We can neither rewind nor forward it like a filmstrip.**
**We can get it. Whereas the moment is what we live, what we feel, how much we can see ourselves in it.**
**If we were to travel from one end of the country to the other by an old-generation train, this situation would probably have different repercussions for different individuals and would probably have consequences according to them.**
**For some of us who have not had such an experience and have always been able to maintain their joy of life, this journey can be a priceless opportunity to enrich their life visually, auditorily and culturally.**
**This is the case for other individuals who constantly postpone life in the routines of the day and race against time, almost stubbornly; its length can be perceived as a torture that will cost at least two and maybe three days.**
**In this journey where the joy of life is in place, every moment is lived insatiably and memories are accumulated, while the other is the shortest time on this journey.**
**wanting it to end; He can enjoy neither the beauty of the sunrise, nor the dance of the raindrops, nor the insatiable view of the cheerful herds of animals coming from the village to the pastures early in the morning.**
**In short, some of us miss out by pretending to live life, while others release the emotions and thoughts required by the moment and live the moment. Which one would you like to be?**
The sound of my heart rises in waves and I am filled with hope
**The battery of my loneliness is about to run out, my soul must be charged immediately and I must write a poem immediately.**
**I have to write a village girl, whereas a city girl living in the middle of the city made up a village, I built a village inside me, while a deep well fell into it every night, while the stone thrown by a madman, collecting letters and hitting forty smart people.**
**Will it work, dude?**
**You eat, drink, study and work, after a lifetime, come and become addicted to poetry.**
**Overdose, my blood was poisoned with excess ink, so my blood pressure peaked in the middle of the night.**
**I will eradicate the oppressor, but I will not give up the oppressed crew.**
**Curtain rises, the voice of my heart and I pass the day with subtitles.**
**My figure is mourning.**
**My edict is moist.**
**The roads are slippery and the city will probably wake up to snow, of course, I will put on my flannel pajamas, and if I get cold, I will put the flannels on myself before I get cold, and then I will write stories in the consistency of sponge cake and put them in the oven.**
**This is what happens every night.**
**If I'm a little late for my muse's appointment, the city rings in my ears, after all, the city and poetry and I are inseparable trio.**
**I will free a trapped word and draw a picture of poetry, or rather, I will dust the geographies that I could not migrate and make the new day smoke.**
**Of course the devil and evil and darkness I'm fighting against.**
**Who knows how many times I won't be defeated in the war that I opened to the windmills on the road and I won't let my eyes open to the darkness?**
**There's a senseless poem in my stomach**
**Poems that are endlessly divided inside me,**
**Poems that we will perish together,**
**Poems that we will forget together,**
**poems with no debt**
**And so the poems that hurt so much.**
**The pain suddenly subsides as the rain stops,**
**Sometimes it's just because God wanted it that way.**
**Maybe I'll just draw a picture in a cave,**
**In a country where dreams begin with a capital letter,**
**I have a dead body lifted from me.**
**Dude is that what you want?**
**I will fly like a fairy godmother, like a fairy godmother, in my dream of being able to take advantage of even the crumbs of the ukden that remains in me and avenge the past, and mine is a migration alphabet, necessarily catching the ugly and the grudge.**
**I have to find a few words that are frantic right away.**
**Did I get rid of the shaking images too?**
**And did I put a huge exclamation mark at the end of the sentence…**
**Of course, I am aware that I am deceiving myself, but I will run away from the demon that I killed and brutally murdered my ego and soul, and I will open my wings to a happy life by falling in love with a rich man like an innocent and deplorable poor girl.**
**Although they do not play the old and black and white classics on television channels.**
**After all, what is left from the past other than our date of birth?**
**With the opposing winter wind and I sitting in my comfortable chair, am I bad at dreaming of the expected snow in Istanbul or the poor poor?**
**After all, I'm not responsible for gas bills, even though I don't have one hand on oil and the other on honey.**
**Of course, it's too late to dream about the times I worked, after all, did I put the last point and sift my flour when I was young and hang the sieve on the wall?**
**Oh, sir, what is it?**
**I couldn't find my dream job because I couldn't find the paradise I was looking for in the business environment...**
**Something like that.**
**Surely the market has passed.**
**It's not like I'm imitated or anything, I'm used to living comfortably, after all, it's debatable whether it's comfortable or not.**
**I come to myself with the sound of the cursor.**
**My inner voice, which I have reported, is very ungrateful and how it raises a flag by looking at the words that are on top of it.**
Towards hope It's also time to write a poem for a drink
**The curtains are swaying on the cornices attached to my dreams, after how many curtains will the mime artist say goodbye to the audience, sparks jumping out of my veiled life, where I have never been more marked by the mime artist, and soon I will collect a bowl and a comb and escape from myself.**
**Think about it like a dream:**
**How many more curtains will be drawn over the dead climate?**
**Since that first day when I was obsessed with writing, the curtains have been rising, my inner voice has just thundered and while I was waiting for rain, flaky snow started to fall, and as if this was not enough, my head was spinning, obviously I focused on the rotation of the world, maybe the world is keeping up with me.**
**Even though it was a street weekend in a dead silence that tickled me with a shout.**
**There is no doubt how these secluded places, which serve during the day under the title of bars and cafes, will be closing soon, and how they stain our quality neighborhood. How could anyone possibly read this sentence, how would they fire it, after all, while a place where freedom is experienced is the name of a district, the neighborhood I live in does not look stylish at all.**
**Curtains are flying.**
**A witty dervish hidden in the heart and the sky dome where I hang, look how softly snowflakes are falling.**
**It's also the right time to write a poem for a drink, although I look back at my past that I wrote when it was a poem or two accompanying the day...**
**You know, when I was not acquainted with poetry, my life, except for the last ten years, I did not even think of reading or writing poetry.**
**While the mime artist in me was poking my mind and I was waving my rebel flag and attacking...**
**Well, my dear girl: do you not realize that the past life without poetry is the center of poetry? Example…**
**I'm at my desk at the bank and I'm staring at the garden of the school adjacent to the bank, having done all the work in one go and asking my manager to give me more work:**
**The breeze of your heart, while my mind was in teaching, even in the boring atmosphere of the bank, while you caught a romantic trend...**
**If a softly playing music is now Mozart's symphony, and because I ate my mind with cheese and bread, there are places I'll stop by after work, of course, I'm looking for a job again.**
**When I can't know where I belong, the lights are on, it's dark early?**
**Before, of course, I am a high school volunteer, after all, I am at the forefront whenever we come to a decision with the class, which we demand from our teacher with all my cuteness...**
**And years later, it should be me on the teacher's chair this time, the teacher who will postpone the exam...**
**Then someone pokes my shoulder:**
**"Where did you go my rose again?"**
**Yes, my dear inner director obviously noticed my stagnation:**
**“You have done everything you need to do today. You leave early tonight, your house is far away. Or wait, get on the bus.”**
**What ambiance is this?**
**Which profession am I?**
**Student.**
**No, teacher.**
**No, the banker.**
**No, nothing.**
**Every inch of the sky.**
**Love's alphabet and your embezzled heart to poetry and poet...**
**It is love that exalts you beyond the familiar.**
We always thought that one day in the future would come true, we had our wishes
**We are the children of tomorrow.**
**Maybe that's why we always kept our wishes and dreams for tomorrow.**
**We said tomorrow, we couldn't live the day.**
**We always think our wishes will come true one day in the future.**
**We kept our hopes in Aftalin ballot boxes.**
**Its back was tomorrow, it was always the unknown that never ends, it was the unknown that we longed for. We were accustomed to waiting, being consoled, being consoled.**
**It was the sounds from the dormitory that washed and purified our ears.**
**Pure pure folk songs were folk tales that cheer up Friday mornings with their sweet voices.**
**It was the school radio that taught us how to help each other, respect and love. It was children's hour, reminding us that we are children. It was the music box that instilled good music listening. He was saying that your eyes will be on the road and your ears will be on me. He said if I was so drunk that I would forget my troubles.**
**We are apple age children. Scratches of thorns on our hands and sweet melodies of hopeful songs in our hearts. He said that the richest person in this world is the one who knows how to give. We used to say that life was a holiday all together. Our holiday dresses are left in the branches of the cherry trees we climbed. Giant ladles crushed the rollers and passed over our red patent leather shoes.**
**All our hopes were scattered like cotton candy. In the pocket photos we read breathlessly, love turned yellow and in windy weather I still hear my mother's compassionate voice saying, be careful, don't go under the roof, the tiles may fall. The hawthorn necklaces we wore around our necks were more precious than all the jewels of the world. The tales of one thousand and one nights that warm our hearts on long winter nights were read in homes without television, without washing machine, without electricity...**
**Everything was highly valued, socks were patched, old socks were made of cloth mats, ladies were doing handicrafts, lace cloths were covered on coffee tables. How sincere the neighbors were, as if they were born from the same mother, we played on the streets, vineyards, gardens, running around in empty spaces, sweating, and eating bread sprinkled with yoghurt and powdered sugar.**
**As if saying that everything will pass, one should be like a human being, know how to value in life, should not walk away if someone says I still love you after years, show respect, not hurt for the sake of good memories, the old ones shouldn't stay in the past, a dried branch should bloom again, respect my love, look, if the star fox is what it is, your wish was to leave Why did you burn me in your fire, beautiful person, I will love you as long as I live, don't forget me, don't forget my word. There are few people who embody both beauties. Those who are seemingly beautiful will have roughness in their inner world, and those who are good inside will have problems outside.**
**Our lives were like radio theatre. It was the name we heard every day. They were mesmerized by their beautiful voice. She had a beautiful voice like her name, and so was the good older sister of the school radio. Doors would creak open in our homes, too, in the days when we pressed our ears to the squeaky radio.**
**We used to swallow that the back was tomorrow. We would patiently wait. Sometimes we knew how to give up on our wishes.**
@Adin