Holy water
   cannot help you now

A thousand armies
   couldn't keep me out

I don't want you money
I don't want your crown

See, I've come to burn
Your kingdom down.

I'm the kind of girl who burns through guy friends like rubber on tiers, like sulfur on matches, like gasoline and kerosine and flameward moths.
But I don't want to burn through you.
We just go together so well—like puzzle pieces.
You and I are like day and night, sun and moon.
If you only knew how it eats me up inside, keeping my cool.
I feel this tiny spark dancing in my heart and it threatens to rake my body in flames, ready to pounce on me, licking and biting at the first sign that I'm falling for you.  
I'm really trying to hold my fuse right now, but one second we're joking and laughing and in the next you say something that tugs at me and I feel my hold on it slipping.
If I don't burn you first, this fire in my bones will certainly consume me.

Let your face shine with a smile behind your COVID 19 mask.
Swathe your lips with kind words.
Focus on others with the eye of your heart.
Dress yourself with a garment of contentment.
Infuse your community with the fragrance of compassion.
Saturate your heart with tenderness.
Ignite  your soul with love.
Wear a crown of humanity.
Stand tall, as a role model for rendering services to others.

Hussein Dekmak

the moon chased me through cities
growing more as days go by

I could not escape its gaze
through foggy curtained windows

I always thought I was made for
the night but as it turned out

the moon burns in me more
than the sun ever could

All my cuts and scrapes
Have been exposed









Ouch,
So much this burns

Raw and uninhibited
Passion is unlimited
Lethargy’s been,
redistributed
If you’re a rebel without a cause
Than I’m a dreamer with some to spare
Our entropic revelry we’ll share
To make the world fair
Burn it down
Without a care
Put them on the ground
Smug when caught,
No longer when shot
A ringing, melodious sound;
Wall Street,
on its back feet,
Tumbling down
Avarice assailed,
No other options when
Democracy’s failed
And either side, is on their own side
And neither dissent abide,
They can’t break free
Of their lust for currency
So when mere anarchy is loosed upon the world
We’ll just love to watch it all unfurl

Was it you, who burned a city
At my fingertips?
I’ll blame it
On the rampaging fire wildflowers
Suffocating California.
Either way, I cannot breathe.

What haunts me?
It’s you, isn’t it.
The 12-33, code 12-56,
No help is coming,
“Refusal to comply” morphs to “missing persons,” reporting
The silence.
The screech, the blip
Of a scanner, seeing red,
Like I could hear the pain
Of a few thousand shaken children
Who lost
Their mothers
To a cloud of noxious smoke.

That’s what haunts me.
Isn’t it.
Children, charred and homeless,
Roaming crumbling streets.

That’s what haunts me.