Karakoncolos by Özge Lena
The joy of being someone else
behind an animal mask with golden bells.
The joy of making noise
with screams, songs, and accordions.
The joy of walking all together
like a shiny giant beast with many limbs
to scare Karakoncolos
who hides in the cold corners during Zemheri.
It lures humans with the sweet voice
of their loved ones,
Along with the sirens in the pink blood
of sundown. And the first tank.
Bitter announcements of the siege
from the loudspeakers.
Animal faces fluttering around
screaming without opening their mouths.
Soldiers lurking in the corners
like unscarable spirits.
Bio
Özge Lena is an internationally published poet whose work appears in The London Magazine, Mslexia, The Oxford Blue, Hunger Mountain Review, The International Times, and elsewhere. She is the author of the monthly 'Extinction Column' for the Oxford Climate Society blog. She recently presented her poetic approach, 'Catapoetics: Poetry of the Catastrophe', at the International Conference on Poetry Studies, Birkbeck, University of London. Her poetry has received the Pushcart Prize, Editor’s Choice Award, The Best Spiritual Literature Award, and Best of the Net nominations, and was shortlisted for the Oxford Brookes International Poetry Competition, The Plough Poetry Prize, Black Cat Poetry Press Nature Prize, and other awards. Find her @lenaozge across all platforms.
Author's note
In Anatolian winter folklore, Karakoncolos is a creature of Zemheri (the deepest cold) lurking in the dark corners, mimicking loved ones' voices to lure people out into the night. For me, it has always been a reflection of my deepest fear: being sieged by the joyful masks of the outside world, losing my true voice, and being unable to write. This is my Karakoncolos, the most terrifying war story of all.
