[Deleted]
Meantime While you're gone, I stay here like something you lose on your way. While you're gone, I write you like who write for himself dreams or wishes. While you're gone, I remember you and our moments, our silences in the bed. While you're gone, I sing our songs, I read the letters and I try to relate with you. While you're gone, I'm waiting for you. While you're gone, Do you still remember me? Please, send me a signal that I may know. I'm still here, without you but with you.
Oct 22, 2014 2:35 PM
Corrections · 4

Meantime

While you're gone, I stay here like something you lost/left along your way.
While you're gone, I write you like I am writing [to myself]/[out my] dreams or wishes. (better would be "writing dreams or wishes to myself", but I don't want to change the structure. Since this is poetry "writing myself dreams or wishes" works quite well too.)
While you're gone, I remember you and our moments, our silences in bed. (since this poetry, "the" can go in there if you like but it's more "correct" without the definite article here)
While you're gone, I sing our songs, I read the letters and I try to relate to you. (relate with you implies interaction; relate to you implies an attempt at understanding)
While you're gone, I'm waiting for you.
While you're gone, Do you still remember me?
Please, send me a signal so that I may know.
I'm still here, without you but with you.

 

It makes me sad.  Very nice.

October 24, 2014
Ismet Ozel
October 24, 2014
West Indies, Red Apple, Ithaca, South China! I am sentenced to take a long journey. I have no share in the territories of whites. I’ve committed a crime against the land of locals. A mischievous among the despots, an outsiders among the tribes, Being a savage cut me off from the languid fruits For myself in this world I chose a bitter taste of a root. There is no shade nearby to have some rest I am sentenced to take a long journey. What is far? For a man like me who lives far from his own self How far could the destination point be? My head is uncovered, my hair is split into two at the middle. Whichever country I pass through the tattoos on my temples will betray me. They will call me brave and honorable, in fact I am silent and sad. The cascading yell I learnt from the pirates is no more doing any good to me. I am disgusted by the confident and settled dialects of the peasants. On my neck, the jewelries made of the shames of those who declared me guilty. On my back, the deaf scale of the clandestine words. I added salt into the water in my canteen, I have no food with me. I am sentenced to take a long journey. I am leaving a life, a life that has been tailored for me. Those who saw me used to say “It looks good on you.”. The pocket mirror that I bought while doing my military duty, some nights that I go out, the frivolous smile on my face in Muş will be left behind here. The order is given by the judges. I have signed the document that allows me to carry no smell, no echo, no color with me. My job has finished here, I no more have a home I am sentenced to take a long journey.
October 24, 2014
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