Remain humble and kind
always let your light shine.
Like a beacon of hope
to those wary, lost souls
on the hunt for a lamp
to light their barren path.
setting each step aglow
out of desolation.

On a cold and lonely day with a hint of a breeze
The red metal box alone and lonely  started to freeze
Would someone need  him today he thought
A lovers tiff, an angry couple who'd just fought

A well placed word on parchment or better still
A poem from the heart to elicit a thrill
Night and day, day and night
the postbox remained resolute hoping to see the light

Don’t let the medium dry
Moisten This Creation                                   
by ANY MEANS necessary

It’s vulnerable

For This Creation to become pedestal WE MUST :

feed it
off of a capillary bag

mist it
under a dense healthy breath

lead it
to suckle an engorged breast

For
IF WE DO NOT
we risk it becoming husk ;
good only for digs and dust shops.

For This Creation, WE MUST queue

with our blood tapped
and ready

our breeding fluids
our various flows carefully labelled
and in sterile pouches

our donor cards filled out
steady for sacrifice

Keep This Creation wet
and it shall be a beacon
a call to awareness
a beckon of craft for us all
and not some common art-hole
In time THE CREATION SHALL SERVE US

I love lighthouses;
Lonely, desolate, cold
Grown out of rocky outcrops
Designed by monolithic architects,
Where only ascetic souls can call home
Their light, a beacon in the darkness
To protect sailors from the smouldering sea,
And all her whiles and trickery
One lonely light, that shines out
Like faith, like hope, like love
So mariners will not plot a course
Into the shallow depths of death,
Book a room in Davy Jones’ Locker.

The heart-beats to give life, not death, and it is made to run this inner race, I confess.

To give forth its treasure to those who have a need and see the value of the harvested seed.

The heart-beats to shed light on any who would not give up the fight.

To walk in a world of too much talk, and to live as a beacon versus too many lies.

The heart-beats to keep it from turning to stone when left with unnecessary and suffocating ties.

For within, the heart, a story is told of an adventure not to be ignored that must unfold.

I write poems as graffiti
Not by way of keeping score
No, my words are given freely
They will cost you nothing more

But now and then a thought will root
To grow there in perfect soil
And blossom as a perfect Truth
To become your inner voice

As one or two so came to me
They'll become yours as you write
From page to page our poetry
Is a gathering of Light

Dream away,
You’ll be happier,
Live healthier,
Feel empowered,
Yearn for a better tomorrow!

Choose your dream,
Ignite your inner light,
Embrace your purpose,
Be a beacon of inspiration!

Live out your dream,
Set your goals,
Make those great accomplishments,
Reach a sense of fulfillment!

Water your dream with your thoughts,
Nurture it with your smart planning!
Guard its growth with your sweat and tears,
Give it a humane touch with your caring heart!

Hussein Dekmak

Copyright

If you are lost in the darkness
look for a beacon
let her light guide you home
when you arrive at your destination
you'll realize
you were never really lost at all.

I haunt the shadows of your thoughts

My nails rip from their beds
clawing sanity
just trying to climb out of
my feelings

my fight leaves breadcrumbs
but light causes shadows
even in the brightest smile

and while I prefer the shade
...or used to

I churn to life in that place where
my ebb meets your flow

**

You haunt the shadows of my thoughts

You run non-stop
floating on surface tension
knowing the pit is hollow
...it just seemed easier that way

My kindness
as comforting as it is cruel
in the shadows behind a smile
that blinds me
...beautifully

It feels like magic
where your ebb meets my flow

Float on that surface tension
I'll wait in the hollow

It's hard to move when we
neither run nor chase