Mumbo Jabaliyya

A day to rejoice Cause This used to be the day You 'celebrated' your birth Actually You always fled abroad And took me with you Cairo, Skyros, Morocco, Italy, Istanbul Unimportant now Memories Well I hate memories But today I have to look back Cause This used to be your birthday And I am alone In your house Which is as dead As you are No escape Just the wind Letting me know Everyone is relative Even you Cause On your birthday I think about your death A situation which will apply to you Longer than life Your being alive-status was just an interruption of your death And in that ultimate time span You where once born That was the first day of you breathing being A monumental happening Cause It is your ever birthday Which is the pre-conditioning Of my death-interval What can I say, think? Thanks And Happy ever birthday

An outsider might think: Why are you here? Rich lady from Pakistan Tanzanian lawyer Kangaroo shooting Lebanese-Aussie Bacon making police family from Serbia Depressed feeling Turkish-Dutch sisters Omanite navy officer Me At an appartment With oversized white couches And golden framed paintings Sultans Atäturk And Certificates Yes, we are in Istanbul, Turkey City of attacks and a failed coupe d'etat Mosques The Bosphorus Palaces Ottoman past wealth, hüzün But these happenings, sites, historical events and emotions Are unimportant For In town works a famous man That hardly anybody knows Except for those with glitchy eyes Retinitis Pigmentosa, Stargardt Macula degeneration And more If you know these diseases You might know Or you should know The clinic that is housed in the white appartment Glitches that aren't, considered, curable anywhere in the world Are fought here With needles, acupuncture And electricity This being conduc

Damn you! You are too vague Bits and pieces… Where to get assistance To aid my limitations? Frustration And quick continuation With the so called Normal life And waiting for a next situation When just a patch of memory Pops up And becomes more distant Each time One is not enough A lonely memory Is hollow Like it doesn’t exist What will happen When only tiny bits Remain? Will I get stuck on those? Get jammed? Or speed on? Like most do? I can hardly believe the latter So…