Galata Bridge
By Dora Šustić
Drowsy men catch their dinner on a bridge that witnesses the clash of new and old world
– the clash between hip Karaköy, the fashionable area that used to be called a “dark village”, town of the blind, and old Istanbul,
the walled city of Constantine
Galata bridge has no sense of timing, everything happens at the same instance
The smiles of people passing are synchronized with the shouting of fishermen
Namaz from Yeni Cami is the same frequency as the rhythm of my heart
Waves go up way high to the blue sky and the waves go down and hit Medusa’s head
Deep under the ruins of modern day Istanbul, sleeps the real essence of the place
History wrapped in myths' stories of women in love with the wrong prince
Suffering from a terrible disease
Prescribed only for the brave ones
Nothing can go wrong when everything feels right
Although it is just a matter of feeling, feeling is all we have anyway
Senses sharpened like the peaks of minarets
Melting down like colors of pedestrians’ blouses
On the bridge of loneliness
I have spring under my skin though I'm wearing a winter jacket
I have sun boiling in the epicenter of my brain though I resonate coldness
Thick skin carved by the seaside encounters a problem of a present warmth
After being stuck in an illusion for quite some time
Thick skin needs scars of reality checks in order to release love molecules
And shine the light
Swim through the waters like a fish
Fish caught by the fishermen on Galata bridge
It doesn’t matter, we'll all end up in someone’s net, better if it’s in the net of the hungry ones
Than in the net of laziness
Biting one's own tail
In a loop of craziness
Swim fast, it will evoke more pleasure within the ones catching you
Slowness is slow is dull try to move fast
So you become like the sea
So you become the sea
Fairness collides with speed
Too much digging into a spot of motionlessness causes fractions in the mind
Wallowing in shitty thoughts is a road that leads straight to hell
Fish head, fish dinner
And softness of the liquor poured over empty brain
Swim in the streams of own water
And you will find out there is only one stream anyway
Cyclic redemption
Over and over and over again, I find the meaning in simple blue water
Speaks to me like the eyes of the loved one
(Although they are black)
Galata that links two sides of one story – always the same story
– lovers on the bridge
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Born in Rijeka, Croatia, Dora Šustić (1991) obtained her BA in political studies at the Faculty of Social Sciences in Ljubljana, Slovenia. In 2012, she moved to Prague, where she currently studies screenwriting for a MA degree at the Film and TV School of the Academy of Performing Arts (FAMU). Her poems, fiction and non-fiction have been published in several international journals (GUTS Magazine, Hourglass Literary Magazine, Modna, Magazine for Art and Feminism etc.). She wrote and directed several short films and is currently writing her first feature screenplay, Virgins of Pomegranates.