Thursday 26 March 2015

First Impressions of Istanbul, Turkey


Cityscapes of Istanbul | 2014
by Joe Pollitt




İlk izlenimler | ISTANBUL 2014

Ben geldiğimde SOMA olaydan önce bir hafta var.
21. yüzyılın en büyük Madencilik felaket.
Medya ilgisini gizli nerede oluştu dehşet.
İnsanların ölmesi ve hangi onlar öldü yol tutar.
Seçimlerden önce sorunlar susturulması.
Tüm bayraklar yarım maske uçuyordu ve yas başladı.
Hüzün omnipresent. Kabir azabı tarafından etkilenen tüm.
Güneşin ne olursa olsun, üzüntü içinde Turizm Merkezi sahne aldı.
Bu trajedinin ve topluluklar içinde 800 artı madenci öldü
Türkiye'nin batısında etkilendi ve gelecek nesiller için olacak.
Ölümlerin her bir dokundu; Aile, arkadaşlar, komşular ve daha fazlası...

Ve Başkan'ın yardım bölgeye askeri adamları ile geldi,
Bu Soma nezaret ve bu bölge için bakan ama.
Galatasaray forvet sanki çılgınca masum tekme fotoğraflandı.
Bagajda bir protestocu koyarak, iki asker savunma tarafından basılı.
Bir yardım olmadan şefkat, her milletin ruhsuz ve kalpsiz ayakbağı.
Bu vahşeti, mutlak alay hissettim tanık bir vizyon görüntüsünü yapıldı.
elite hangi belli oldu. Kalpleri ve zihinleri nefreti
Bu etkilenen şiddetli idi. Öfke, kelime, daha fazla öfke değildi.
Çıkışları, işe yaramaz ne'erdowells ve kendini maddeleri kullanılmıştır lideriyiz.
Başkan'ın oğlu, haksız kazanç doldurulmuş bavul sürükleyerek bulundu.
Ve rüşvet para ağırlığını taşıyacak tüm ama imkansız.

Ve sonra kesişen mecazi köprü arasında dünyalar bölme.

Istanbul ve onun çoğunluk kuralı liderleri bir dalış tabureye yerleştirilen
çocukları olarak İlköğretim Okulu dışarı gel ve kendilerini daldırma
Yüzme havuzunda. Istanbul'da aptal kim?

Dünya karışık din barındırıyor. Camiler, trans, tekne ve vizyon.
Bu antik şehir İstanbul; Genel, gerçekçi ve olumlu vokal.
Kültürler çarpışır, Doğu tarafında ve geçmiş nerede tamamen iyi niyetli.

Ve Müttefik savaş gelinler haklı, istismar ve Kaptan'ın masaya eğlendirdi.
Nerede insanlar fakir ama sık sık oynak. Mükemmel asi için bir üreme alanı.
İğrenç arabaları ve kaçaklar. Şapkalar, palto ve throwaways; Istanbul şehri burası.

Müzik geceleri barlarda duydum. Görüntüleri ve ses sokaklarda gördüğümüz; arabalar flash ve
Modern Sinema, Şişman kediler ve çocuklar, yüksek sesle kendi ucuz gitar tıngırdatma iken Küba purosu.
Erkekler puffin nargile ile yüz yaralar, wannbe Asla Superstars bu sevinçlerini Türk barlar vardır.

Ezan ve kamet biz taze bahar sabahları hafif hava karşılaştırmak gibi bizim yüzler yıkama için düşüyor.
Cesur iletiler, yasadışı içecekler; bizim yabancı İncil tarama gibi keskin kenarları ile kitap okudum.
Biz dört kabile olarak görülen ya o ya da sadece kemik idolü. Muhteşem şehir Istanbul gitme zamanı

Reddeder ve yazarlar, kaybedenler ve dışlanmış, şairler ve dansçılar, tüm Konstantinopolis'te bekliyoruz.
Güvercin kanadı ve boğaz dalgalar - bilge adam kravat takan kara gözlü veda.
Kalıntılar içinde yatan bir üzüntü. Beni hiçbir şey düşünmek ve beni asla unutma.
 



First Impressions | ISTANBUL 2014

One week before the SOMA incident, is when I arrived.
The greatest mining disaster of the 21st Century.
Hidden from Media attention where the horrors that occurred.
The amount of people killed and the way in which they died.
Just before the elections the troubles were silenced.
All the flags were flying at half mask and the mourning started.
The sadness was omnipresent. All were affected by the torment.
Regardless of the sun, sadness took centre stage over Tourism. 
800 plus miners died in this tragedy and all the communities within
Western Turkey were affected and will be for generations to come. 
The deaths touched every one; family, friends, neighbours and more...

And when the President’s aid came to the region with his military men,
overseeing those in Soma and caring for those in the region but he was
photographed wildly kicking the innocent as if he were a Galatasaray striker.
Putting the boot in to a protester, held down by two military men in defence.
An Aid without compassion, a soulless and heartless nuisance to any nation.
This was an image of brutality, a vision witnessed of utter derision felt from
the elite which, became so obvious. The hatred in the hearts and minds
of those affected were raging. Anger was not the word, more fury.
The Leaders are sell-outs, useless ne’erdowells and self preservers.
The President’s son was found dragging stuffed suitcases of ill-gotten gains.
 And the weight of the bribery money was all but impossible to carry.

And then the crossing of the metaphorical bridge between dividing worlds.

Istanbul and its majority rule, leaders placed on a ducking stool
as the kids come out of elementary school and dip themselves
in the swimming pool. Who are the fools in Istanbul?

Harbouring worlds of mixed religion. Mosques, trans, boats and vision.
This ancient city of Constantinople; Global, truthful and positively vocal.
Where cultures collide, down the east side and history is utterly bona fide.

And allied war brides are justified, abused and amused on the Captian’s table. 
Where people are poor but often playful. A breeding ground for the perfect rebel.
Filthy carts and stowaways. Hats, coats and throwaways; this is the City of Istanbul.

Music by night is heard in the bars. Sights and sound on the streets we see; flash cars and
Modern Cinemas, fat cats and Cuban cigars whilst kids strum loudly on their cheap guitars.
Men puffin shisha with facial scars, wannbe-never Superstars those are the joys of Turkish bars.

Rising to the call for prayer, washing our faces as we compare the lighter air on fresh Spring mornings.
Bold messages, illegal beverages; books read with hard edges as we scan through our foreign Bible.
All around we’re seen as Tribal either that or just bone idol. Time to leave the glorious City of Istanbul

Rejects and writers, losers and outcasts, poets and dancers, all are welcome in Constantinople.
Pigeon wings and Bosporus waves - goodbye to the wise guy with the black-eye wearing a necktie.
The sadness that lies inside remains. Think nothing of me and remember me never.


THE MAGNIFICENT CITY OF ISTANBUL

Istanbul II, 2014

Istanbul III, 2014

Istanbul IV, 2014




Istanbul V, 2014 
Istanbul VI, 2014

Istanbul VII, 2014








Wednesday 4 March 2015

FREEDOM

ORAL VERSION | FREEDOM

Freedom is a gift we can all afford to grant ourselves. It means nothing to most and everything to a few. Those who dare to stretch themselves away from the mainstream and are bold enough to bank solely on their ability to communicate and have ambition to see it through right until the end. Those are the works worth waiting for www. Those are the memorable voices that will, over-time, be heard by all..... 


Bubbling like brown rice in giant metal pots.
Listen to the sounds of the Underground. 
The murmur of distant voices rising, 
tiny sounds at first until the fullness is 
truly realised and the volume reaches our 
ears in order to be heard. Suddenly, 
the agony is understood firsthand 
and then those high pitch screams. 
Those unbearable shrieks that pierce 
the body like poisoned thorns, 
sending shockwaves into curdled blood, 
rapidly flowing around weak deflated arteries 
and thin human veins like freshly 
generated, clean and sharp electricity. 

Downplay the ignorance. 
Support the ground offensive. 
Play War Games on foreign soil. 
Drill bullets through the skulls of the damned. 
To ignore these cries would be a shameful travesty. 
To not download their significance would be an
utter disgrace. Grand plan, final attack, Drones 
released, terrorism hunted down, 
removed for good. The cries are coming from 
all those offended. All those affected. 
All those that are now gone. 
Dead and buried. 


Feet firmly rooted to the spot we, the afflicted 
have no chance but to digest this torment found. 
Head-splitting memory of reliving misery. 
The constant throbbing on a broken-heart, 
mended only by a night out and a finders-fee, 
bright lights, Bingo and cups of tea. 
What started as a friendly sparkler, 
quickly turned to fireworks, 
to mass murder 
with missiles never missing 
every site on target hitting. 
Blowing up the innocent 
from Baghdad to Kabul. 
Avoiding all the criticism 
from Edinburgh to Liverpool. 
Sending out our brave young lads 
from Islington to Hartlepool. 
From Gravesend to Nuneaton 
from slightly bruised to badly beaten. 

Catchphrases, soundbites and Celebrity. 
She’s pedigree and soon-to-be my destiny. 
Mix friends, stir well with a bedroom key. 
I'm-in agony on-ecstasy, medically I’m fine you-see. 
Watching you so jealously, finding my own chemistry. 
Fearful of nonentity, hoping for longevity. 
Regrettably I cannot be, the man you want so eagerly. 
I am pure complexity, a man without identity 
but plenty of integrity and I will love you endlessly. 


Here is to the freedom of saying what you like when you like. 


JP 05/03/15