EDA (from primitive Pianos)

EDA (Istanbul)

Adana kebab is sizzling
behind me in Sultanahmet
a man in an all-white suit
gets his shoes shinned
I’m skinned
he speaks of Kurdish and Armenian
symbols animals & patterns
Silk. Wool. Silk & wool. Crosses.
the azan prayer booms
from mosque to mosque
in surround sound
I move among the crowds
of Taksim
I run my hands
over the Galata tower
move through tunnels
move through the songs of gypsies
EDA is a foreign land
a foreign tongue say
ghosts the ghost of
an idea EDA is not
a verdict EDA moves
through 20th century
Turkish poetry
a crossing, a bridge,
pronouns are fungible
pre-rational pre-Islamic
a profanity and a purity
there is no sticky tape


I slept on the banks of Bosphorus and woke to a cold breeze. This is a city of crooked teeth.

Canan is an idea. Canan is the beloved. Canan is pronounced Ja nan. Canan is the lion’s milk the lion’s inferno.

I learnt the formula for the perfect potato by the banks of the Bosphorus in Ortakoy. The Turkish innovative poet ILHAN BERK:

“I don’t like the potato. But all the world consumes it; it grows everywhere, / knows no boundaries, belongs to an international family.”


“The potato has no personality”

“From the soil it yells: / Hey! The Ground! Hear me?”

EDA (Istanbul)

framed by the Hagia Sophia
framed by mucus
framed by mounds
framed by lute players
framed by mangy cats
waiting for a ferry
to the island of Büyükada
the Golden Horn

a birthday cake was presented
for my middle passage

crossings & double

bridges &

* Thoughts and ideas of EDA taken from Murat Nemet-Nejat’s amazing anthology EDA: An Anthology of Contemporary Turkish Poetry