Trance

I was born to a small family and was loved very much as a child, youth and young adult. When on my own path, I imitated what I had learned from my mother and my father: I took responsibility for parenting. Of my inner child. But, unlike my parents, I neither acknowledged nor accepted it. Nor did I provide it with any loving - unlike what my parents had done with me. For decades, I lived aloof to the vital needs of that inner child to survive. I lived in a state of trance. Given my initial identity - my name, I thought such existence was intended for me. "Hülya," after all, translates in to such half-conscious state: dream; daydream.

I don't know how and when awareness settled. Numerous experiences within the third space where I have been breathing - somewhere between the Turko-Germanic-American existence, prompted transformations in me. Some were soul-shaking, others had a passing impact. My poems reflect the nuances for you and for me, such as "before her end" and "goodbye, mom" as opposed to "Loneliness"and "the backyard circus." As you will conclude, two states of being connect them all: love and melancholy. The same two human conditions always defined my persona. In Trance, I entrust my poetic narrations the immense responsibility of tending to my inner child's elations and miseres. The urge to listen to them now has a simple reason behind it: I chose to experience a trance-like state in the direction of life through them. As for the encouragement to voice them, it came from a most treasured friend - with the following words by the American poet, Mary Oliver (b. 1935): "Instructions for living a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it."

My poems tell you about a life passed by me, at the same time - with their mere appearance in this book, they announce to you and me a life I decided to live. Whether their construct is in English, German or Turkish, I deeply hope you will recognize your own stories in them. However, I wish you will mostly relate to the poems of rejoice and not need to seek solace in those where I mirror deep sadnesses.

As for me, I have long ago made a lifetime commitment to love. Better yet, one was made for my inner child before birth. And, I am not done with melancholy as of yet, either. For it, too, was predetermined. I must be confusing you right now. Allow me to explain: