poems, poetry, listen baby my insides are red, kerem durdag


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Raise the kingdom

Raise the kingdom
from under the waves
of regret and bleak
whispers. Swallow your
mumbling, lift those legs
from the quicksand of
doubt, cut the fog
that belongs to our
fears - raise the kingdom,
raise yourself
and break the glass
in front of your eyes,
drink the poison
from the fountain where
angels are encased in
stone, sip in the smell
of the dirt that weigh
down our lungs, feel the
roughness of my face,
my compatriot, my friend
raise the kingdom,
move with rhythm where
the revolutions deafen
the ears, crunch
on the watermelon seeds
of my desires, you want me,
I want the world,
save me from death,
I will not surrender
but whatever you do
raise the kingdom
over the love of kisses on my clothes,
under the sight of pain & hurt on
your chest, we will walk
on without shoes on a bed
of seductions to rescue
each other, this is trust
for this and more
raise the kingdom,
tired and more will tire
these lives will longer
be a part of your lies
spit out the choice of your voice
bellow out the anthem you believe in
take the glass and reach out for the ocean
spill over the edge
rip brightness into the abyss
we are all dangerous
we are all lecherous
but we will
raise the kingdom
raise the kingdom
of ourselves.

By Kerem Durdag

There is dye on our lips

Don't love me
your face melts into my hate
like pink dye in a glass of water
don't put your lips against mine
your breath rips my senses
under the breeze of darkness
don't touch my arms
your fingers are thorns
drawing mysterious dancing figures on my skin
don't look at me
your head is twisting in a whirl
and I am imploding into an anarchy of faith

but I still want you to remember me
I still want you to want me
if there is a future beyond the door take it
climb over the wall I have built
forgive me and enter my minds
cure me and break my binds
show me the way
teach me to pray
don't hide, I am running to the outside

I know I can't love
so tell me if I will survive yours

By Kerem Durdag


I want to collapse into two arms,
into the arms of that woman
who would not ask
for my love, for any love.
Instead, she will allow
me to say, "You are beautiful,
and I don't know why."

She would be sitting on a
shore where the sand is only
brown and ours. There is blue
in front of us, behind us no
one can see. Like an old
color lithograph, her skin
blends into everything; the
shape of her dress just about
slipping off that soft shoulder.
Then I would kiss her.

There would be no afterwards.
We will be stuck in a frame,
the salty air blowing at our
corners. These two will not
mind. They never kiss
but sit there, the man in
his trousers on such a
beautiful day, the woman
asking for nothing, half
bare. I wish I was there.

By Kerem Durdag