August 26. 2018
– February 22, 2019
Ancient Byzantine city of twenty million,
framed by the Black sea, the end Europe and beginning of Asia is connected by the Bosporus strait,
laughing and sailing on the ferry to Asia,
the seagulls and skies have no borders, the blue mosque Hagia Sofia greets us in the distance,
three long strings of violet, magenta, yellow, and orange ballons strung upon three long, two teenage girls give the man liras to shoot at this impromptu shooting range,
and men sell grilled fish along a parkside boulevard, sea wall walkway, quiet calm of white apartment blocks like Florida, cobblestone streets like Regensburg, Germany and European Istanbul a distant memory, sounds are muffled and the pace is slower, and
back
to Europe, on wide decks watching the sunset becomes a brilliant orange fireball over the wide ferry decks that sinks in the Sea of Marmara, and humble blue ripples disappear,
luggage and bagpack upphill on narrow cobblestone streets like alley lanes of Tahir square, traffic and buses and bikes, and people, and stray cats, hotels, souvenir shops, street peddlers sheer size and intensity like Saigon,
eggplant dish in a Turkish stolovaya, visit to spice bazaar misir isoos, let me live longer in the moment without thinking about the future, street peddlers, the little boy that sells flower leis at Karakoy pier is like the old man with a black beret shines shoes on the ground in Tahir Square
so let’s slow down
green grass solace by the mosque, only in Istanbul where the blue mosque was once a cathedral
stop for black Turkish tea in a tulip glass, delicate sugar cubes on the tip of my tongue
refined gardenside pavillion, a rare section of nature bliss where families stroll by, chaos on the streets are a distant memory.
Searching for souvenirs at two in the morning,
(be careful, groped last night by a passerby),
the best baklava is at Gulluoglu cafe,
pass the shoe shine man, who’s still working
pass a street brawl outside a shawarma place,
two in the morning, young men rushing in red square hats, white apron uniforms, back and forth carrying trays, arab tourists buying boxes upon boxes of these candied treats, two in the morning, this land is old and young at the same time, rows and rows of baklava, “hi I’d like baklava“, “great, what kind?!” “the one with pistachio“
True Turkish hospitality, the kind taxi driver gives two free rides
– leisure, quiet murmur outdoor patio, the umbrella gives shade like the land gives space to think and breathe, two policemen sit and relax too, how vendors don’t shout or approach you like in the European side match the quiet leisure
time slows down here,
red summer patio umbrellas offer shade, this whole space gives time to think and breathe.
Young people sit on the grass, overlooking the rocks and sea and skies
– did you know?
Time is just a concept,
but summer and life and love are real,
and here with us,
in this moment.
Let me stay a little longer,
and enjoy every hour of the brilliant sun.
And now, approaching twilight,
meeting the woman you met at the luxury resort in Mexico, her french-accented English, the wife of an African soccer player who plays for the soccer club in Istanbul, BMW SUV gains respect from the locals, off we go to a white table clothed Italian restaurant inside a mall, dim candles with fresh fish, where refined waiters speak English, meet her family friend, another French-speaking African, young boy a little younger than me, 24 hour friendships, the kind taxi driver takes me back.
Twilight fades, and darkness brings peace,
leave this ancient Greek colony framed by the Aegean sea,
Athens awaits