Beyazit Celik > Likes and Comments

Hello everyone,

My name is Beyazıt Çelik. I am a Turkish poet writing about love, darkness, the soul, and history.

I have published my first professional poetry book, and I am currently working on two stories focused on fantastic and love.

For me, writing is a journey of the spirit — a way of exploring both light and shadow within the human heart.

I’m happy to be here and look forward to sharing my work and reading yours.

The Sweetest Defeat

The finest war I ever lost —
I surrendered to your grace.
Even deserts would bloom for me
If I could see your face.

Your name alone becomes my dawn;
My wounds fall still when you are near.
Let the world collapse around us —
With you, even defeat is dear.

You never know how love will arrive.
Sometimes it hides in a single glance, sometimes between words, sometimes in footsteps or in a smile.

Love is an enigma. You can never truly understand it.
Reason and logic withdraw. The mind ceases to function. A hidden force takes hold of you.
You do what you swore you wouldn’t do,
you go where you said you would never go,
you say what you promised you would never say—
and you are not even aware of it.

Love has a mysterious, romantic, fantastical, mist-covered side.
It seizes your reason and your logic, makes you do everything—
yet it is you who does it.
While it entertains your soul in a realm of dreams,
it plays with your body like a toy.

Love draws a veil over your eyes.
The veil moves in waves.
There are images upon it that cannot be distinguished from reality.
As it ripples, the images begin to move.
It enchants you.
You fall in love with the image on the veil,
never knowing who truly stands before you.
Are they beautiful? Spoiled? Gentle?
You cannot know—
because you are gazing at the veil love has drawn over your eyes.

It fastens a spiritual chain around your neck—
heated in fire, washed in rosewater, scented with musk and amber.
A chain impossible to escape, impossible to break.

It places a scalpel in your hand
so that you may cut your own heart open, again and again, each day—
and still, you do not realize it.

There are enchanted shoes upon your feet.
They walk for you.
They choose your direction.

Love confiscates your will
and plays you like a puppet.
Now you stand face to face with a lifetime
at the mercy of another—and of love itself.

The road to salvation is nearly impossible.
Everything has an end.
You will wait for love’s ending as well—
its death,
or yours.

Hey, this is beautiful!!

✦ autumn ✦ (to write is to breathe) ✧ wrote: "Hey, this is beautiful!!"

Thank you. I will pay attention to that.
Actually, the poem I wrote was more like an interpretation — it was a spontaneous response written in that moment.
A beautiful reply to beautiful verses, expressed through beautiful lines.

I thought so, and I liked your way of responding, just thought i’d clarify.

Very beautiful lines ✨

Thank you. These lines are a brief excerpt from a true story I am in the process of writing.”
I would be happy to hear your thoughts, whether positive or negative. Your feedback will help me achieve a better result.

Your Presence Is Enough

I ask for no promises anymore,
one glance from you is enough.
If life is a hurried road,
when you pause, the world stands still.

My heart learned silence beside you—
love, it seems, is not noise.
Even if everything else is missing,
your presence is enough.

-From my poetry book The Sweetest Defeat, a collection of love, silence, and the beauty of surrender.-

-This excerpt is taken from the story book I am currently writing.-





My heart has grown a shell.
Even the brightness of the day brings me no comfort.
My thoughts are filled with loneliness…
To live alone, to grow old alone, and perhaps one day to die alone.

Did I never love in my life?
Of course I did.
But always alone… silently… platonically.
And when those loves wounded me, I healed my wounds alone as well.

I wandered through many lands.
I met many beautiful women.
Yet I never held a woman's hand, nor reached out my own.

To love someone and never say “I love you”…
To never gather the courage to risk everything and go to her…

Perhaps this was not love, but pride.
Perhaps what I called platonic love was nothing but my own stubborn pride.

There was only one love I ever dared to face.

The one whose path I waited for every day…
whose footsteps I counted…
the one with whom I imagined my entire life.

One day I gathered my courage.
I stood before her and gave her a letter.
Without saying a single word…
I turned around and ran away.

That wound, which eventually formed a shell over my heart…
that name carved deep into my soul…
that image which still appears before my eyes from time to time…

Her slender body…
her soft, cotton-like walk…
her noble smile that never fully revealed her teeth…

She still lives somewhere inside me.

I had written a poem for her.
Even the envelope of the letter—I had made it myself.

There was effort in it.
There was sweat in it.
There was love in it.
There was longing in it.
There were dreams in it.

But there was also my pride.

A pride that captured me.
A pride that fought against my love.
A pride so strong it could even sacrifice myself.

After that…
love became only a dream for me.

There were desires.
There were admirations.
But love remained nothing more than a distant dream.

If you ask me what love is,
I would say it is loving with a pure heart.

To cherish someone so much that you would not even dare to touch them.
To wait with longing and patience.
To build the purest dreams—
dreams in which even desire never appears.

And sometimes I wonder…

Could there ever be a dream one day
that will finally heal this wound
that has already grown its shell?

Very poignant verse ✨🤩

thank you

i just read all your poetry, it's very beautiful <3
idk if it was intentional but the symbolism is strong

The story I am writing and the poems I have published are fragments of my real life. They are not merely fiction, but reflections of memories that were truly lived.

imo those are the best kinds. i have enjoyed your poetry

TWO CENTIMETERS OF SPACE

Memories wound me in the darkened corners,
I long to be drunk; mercy hides in empty bottles.

I stumble off a sidewalk, swaying,
My foot slips—yet I fall laughing.

My soul has turned into the moon in the sky,
But clouds keep covering its face.
In pitch-black darkness,
My weary body staggers like a corpse.

Do not challenge me—
I have nothing left to lose.
My heart has been torn from its place,
And I have nowhere left to go.

Curled upon the pavement,
Cold stones beneath me.
A pain in my foot,
And soil begins to fall slowly over me.

The moon is gone, the stars are gone,
My love is gone, my soul has departed.
Throw the earth over me—
All that remained for me was two centimeters of space.

Perhaps here I will find peace,
Thinking it is my beloved’s embrace,
In the silent warmth of the soil
That understands me best.

I had finished my work and was smoking a cigarette in the resting area. A beautiful Asian girl on Telegram was breaking the silence of my loneliness.

There had been others before who wrote to me like this, trying to take something from me. But they always left empty-handed. They were looking for people they could nibble at. First they would try to prove they were real, make you fall in love, and somewhere along the way empty your pockets.

It was always the same game. It usually lasted fifteen or twenty days.

Whenever they appeared, I tried to play along until the end. Why not? I’m not someone who likes crowds anyway. In one way or another, it was just a way to pass the time.

And now, a new game was about to begin.

She had sent me her number so we could continue chatting on WhatsApp.

Without wasting any time, I added the number to my phone contacts.

Across from me was a slender Asian girl with shining eyes and an innocent expression. Her floral spaghetti-strap dress, the way she held her hands together at her fingertips in front of her, and her long black hair flowing down from her shoulders gave her an aura of purity.

Her profile photo had been taken in a place where green, blue, and yellow blended together.

On one side of the sea there were trees and houses among them, and on the other side there was sand. At first glance, it looked like a fantastical place — a beautiful girl, an environment radiating energy.

But at that moment, a voice inside me whispered: *This girl will break your heart.*

An indescribable uneasiness filled me.

Yet another part of me said, *What could happen?*

At worst, two weeks later, I would be alone again.

(An excerpt from a story I am currently writing.)

Beyazit wrote: "TWO CENTIMETERS OF SPACE

Memories wound me in the darkened corners,
I long to be drunk; mercy hides in empty bottles.

I stumble off a sidewalk, swaying,
My foot slips—yet I fall laughing.

My sou..."

I love this. It's so, so bittersweet, I love the last few lines.

Beyazit wrote: "I had finished my work and was smoking a cigarette in the resting area. A beautiful Asian girl on Telegram was breaking the silence of my loneliness.

There had been others before who wrote to me l..."

Hmm this seems interesting! I like the imagery you used, I can see the scene play out very clearly in my mind.

✦ autumn ✦ (to write is to breathe) ✧ wrote: "Beyazit wrote: "I had finished my work and was smoking a cigarette in the resting area. A beautiful Asian girl on Telegram was breaking the silence of my loneliness.

There had been others before w..."

“Thank you. I’m about halfway through the story now. When I finish it, I’m planning to adapt it into English and publish it on Amazon. The plot is based on something that really happened to me, so the storyline is already clear—I just need to add a little more emotion and color to it. It’s a story about two people.”

I DEDICATED MY LIFE

I no longer look back,
My path passes through you.
I erased my own name long ago,
My heart beats only for you.

This love does not diminish with time,
It does not wear away with the years.
I did not love you for a moment,
I loved you for a lifetime… from the very beginning.

THE FIRST AND THE LAST TIME

As I say goodbye to you in sorrow,
once more I tell you that I love you.
Looking into your face like the very first day,
I want to ask how you could say “no” to me.

While loving you, I was left this lonely.
Farewell, my wild rose, in this world without you.
Why are you leaving me without love?
For the first and the last time I say it: I love you.

Where can I go without you?
You had become the source of my inspiration.
Saying farewell is so hard, what can I do?
Leaving my soul behind, I am going to you.

I am left alone in this crowded world.
It cannot be, my wild flower, a separation so sudden.
I cannot find peace when you are not beside me.
Hope has faded in my lonely soul.

Sadly, I know
there is only you.

Beyazit wrote: "THE FIRST AND THE LAST TIME

As I say goodbye to you in sorrow,
once more I tell you that I love you.
Looking into your face like the very first day,
I want to ask how you could say “no” to me.

Wh..."

"Sadly, I know/there is only you." your last two lines are incredibly strong

Sai.‧ ⊹°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡⊹ wrote: "Beyazit wrote: "THE FIRST AND THE LAST TIME

As I say goodbye to you in sorrow,
once more I tell you that I love you.
Looking into your face like the very first day,
I want to ask how you could say..."


Thank you.
I haven’t been able to come online much lately due to work. At the same time, I’m trying to finish my storybook.
Your appreciation and feedback mean a lot to me.

Then, even though I knew it was ridiculous, I opened the camera.

I photographed whatever happened to be in front of me at that moment.

Now I’m looking at the photo I just sent.

There are mussels piled on top of each other in a metal tray. Their black shells resemble dull sea stones under the light.

My hand is in the middle of the frame. Between my fingers is an opened mussel shell…

Inside it, stuffed with rice, the mussel dolma sits like a small treasure among yellowish spices.

For a moment, I laughed at myself.

Even if I tried to design something, I couldn’t come up with something this silly.

Just a moment ago, the most beautiful woman in the world had sent me a photo.

And I…

sent her a picture of a mussel.

“Really?” I thought to myself.

“Is this what you send to the woman who stole your heart?”

Yet while looking at the photo, a strange thought crossed my mind.

That was what love was like.

Something that ignores reason and logic.

On one side, a woman sits in an elegant restaurant, smiling softly with her shoulders glowing in the light.

On the other side, a man stands behind a kitchen counter, holding a mussel in his hand, not knowing what to say.
And still…

there is a touch of love inside that photo.

It isn’t glamorous.

It isn’t romantic.

But it is real.

And it smells deeply of love.

Looking at the mussel, I whispered to myself:

“Look, Lin Zihan…

You sent me a photo like a star.

And I sent you a stone from the bottom of the sea.

How much more can your love make a fool of me?”

Then I looked back at the phone screen again.

“I hope you laugh when you see this silly photo.”

Because sometimes the most honest way to touch someone’s heart is not to appear perfect…

but to appear a little funny, a little confused, and a little in love.

And here I am…

the foolish lover who sent that foolish photo.