Turkey, by Eric Shelman

 Turkey


While in Turkey

Consumed mouthwatering

beef and pork gyros

from street vendors and restaurants.


Drank local fruity flavored spiced hot teas

American domestic beers, and local wines.


Smoked flavored tobacco in a hookah.


Religious, and historical art, architecture, Mosques mesmerized me into a trance.


As I walked aimlessly

in a state of confusion

my English language became a barrier

the confusion of my wandering body.


Couldn't sit with my shoe's soul exposed

to everyone

which meant that I am better than anyone else.


Wearing religious symbols, other than a crescent moon with a star underneath it

were frowned upon.


Shaking everyone's right hands with my right hand, otherwise it was offensive.


Had to stop and listen during Muslim prayers, occurring five to eight times a day.


Kept my mouth shout about my personal thoughts of Islam, to myself

especially being a disbeliever.


Felt uncomfortable being an atheist 

in a Theocratic government

forced to adhere to their rules

having few, if any freedoms.


As daybreak began

heaving to the lines that bound us to the Earth

we sailed off to a new adventure.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Can You Dig Her?

 Can You Dig Her? Can you dig her original orchestrated rhythms and rhymes? Can you dig her harmoniously, harvested melodies? Can you dig her stupendously performed spoken words? Can you dig her thought-provoking and mind-blowing meanings? Can you dig her passion and devotion towards Archeology and Paleontology? Can you dig her love and giddiness she feels while excavating artifacts, bones, and fossils? Can you dig her willingness to help other poets and writers out by having had an online open mic night for the past fourteen years? Can you dig her demeanor of kindness, caring, and giving completely unbiased interpretations of those readers on her broadcast? Can you dig her supporting others like herself out of the kindness of her own heart? Can you dig  all of her creations not just her writings and spoken words like her wonderful custom-made costumes? Can you dig her listening to and thoroughly enjoying her favorite songs? Can you dig her not ever thinking that being a creator is a r
Read more

Helping A Friend Move On By Eric Shelman

 Helping A Friend Move On By Eric Shelman First time I ever done this for anyone Took a massive pay cut in order to help him transit was paid a short amount of money for doing so Never about the money It was about my love for him wanting to help him cross over  as peacefully and comfortablely as he could. I wanted him to know that I took care of him the last 42 days of his life. I would one day hope that someone Might do that for me whenever I get in his position near my departure of this world. From 4 pm to 10 am I was there caring for him in between his Visiting Angels and Hospice visits. We watched lots of horror movies All sorts of television shows Listened to his favorite music. Crying, screaming and wailing whenever he  watched the news he was too much of an empath wanting to solve all our world problems I told him if the news effected him That badly to just turn it off  he said no because he needed to know what was happening in the world. He told me that he was scared to die did
Read more

Virginia by Eric Shelman

Virginia Stationed at the U.S. Navy in Norfolk Naval Station, for four years, I was. Mall rat my first two years, I was wandering around, buying whatever I wanted without a budget while listening to my favorite music blaring in my ears from a CD player. Went to local, and famous concerts every night except for my days on twenty-four hour duty days in port Not knowing who most of the bands were Moshed in pits Attending Warped Tour twice there. Saw several art museums Exihiting art from local, famous, and antiutity artists, was entranced by some of it. Went to open Mic nights in person at a whole in the wall coffee shop read and recited my poetry there met a beautiful singer/songwriter who tied on a singer/songwriter competition. Went to a secluded park with her where she sang a song about me that she wrote and she asked me to write two poems one on defining order, other one on chaos I wrote her a poem to and about herself called Gayla Robinson. Drank American and foriegn alochol every n
Read more