Graduated from the Political Science Faculty of the Ankara University. Earned his Master’s Degree in Public Administration and Public Relations. Served as District Governor, Vice-Governor and Mayor in various regions of Turkey. Worked as an editor at the Directorate General for Press and Information, and produced and presented programs for TRT and some private TV channels. Served as Prime Ministry’s PR Division Head and Prime Ministry Advisor responsible for international Institutions and Organizations. His five poetry collections were published, and many of his poetry and literary translations appeared in many national and foreign literary publications and anthologies. A freelance translator and instructor on public relations, communications, public speaking and voluntarism. Attended in a number of national and international poetry and literary festivals in the country and abroad, and acting as an organizer for some of them. An Honour Prize laureate of Naji Naaman’s Literary Prizes 2011. Mr. Senol is a member of many national and international professional organizations. He sits on the Executive Board of the Three Seas (Baltic Sea, Black Sea and the Mediterranean Sea) Writers and Translators Council headquartered in Rhodes to serve for three years. He teaches at the Communications Faculty of Bahçeşehir University in Istanbul.


Where is the boat, asked the beauty
And what was your word as a reply
No boarding was what she heard
Nobody was attending to her
But the boat was not in yet
What was there
The eminence and the essence
Of a coming love
Waiting in waiting
Clouds were covering not only the air
Sorrow was embracing everything
Except being alive
Now you are aboard
Though on a life boat
To survive
In the sea of loneliness
Swimming is not the case
Though you would be a novice
In time your pain will go away
You never know what was left behind
You will find something different
Upon the arrival of your new identity.
So appealing in appearance
Its petals hide a heaven
Layers of those divine skies
Ready to invite you to a feast
To fly you on a magical carpet
In an instant the dew mixes
With the snowy sweat
The robbing touches feel the heat
The primrose flexes its muscles
To open up the gate of happiness
Caught and imprisoned in an excitement
Equal to the climax of a pleasing sentiment
Then you could not hold it in a long time
Where you cannot be yourself anymore
You would have no choice but to appreciate
That the special moment has arrived
An extreme fondness for the primrose becomes an issue
A candidate to become a constantly burning desire.



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