A poet
doesn't make poetry
to feed the imagination
It makes it
to speak like air

Seen in the distance,
        beauty glistened
though ocean waves..

"Help me please,

                              She smiled,
  as she dragged him under...

Death is beauty,
               as the rose atop of death
feeds on the nourishment of
                                   an empty shell.


Even though its petals decay,
                              its reaches higher

than the tomb
                      to bring life crimson to the surface.

From the womb of Coronavirus,
Comes the birth of a new human with a noble cause, a new purpose, a Renewed vision, and a new mentality, one that:

Listens to cries of the people, and lift their spirits.
Sheds tears over the innocent lives claimed.

Values close family ties, friendship, and recites a wishful prayer to
Alleviate the suffering of distressed souls.

Protects the elderly, takes care of their neighbor, shares meals with the Hungry, and renders services to others, expecting nothing in return.

The birth of a new human,
Who thinks, breathes, speaks and acts with kindness ,
Who’s molded from humility,
With a mind full of reflection, and a
Soft heart encompassed with love!

Hussein Dekmak

we're stopping to breathe
vampires and zombies
have come to eat...








you don't know joe
you don't know sue
what's going to be:

let me tell you:
some human stew
ain't nothing new
to dem creatures

you're just a feature
a gimmick
some meat
has to be in it

If we ate the rich
We could build playhouses from their bones
Paint fairytales onto marrow
Watch our children dig pixie dust from the grooves
Charleston to their windchime laughter

If we ate the rich
We could pave roads with their teeth
Crushed into twinkling mosaics
Speed in glee down the polished calcium roads
Walk on blooms of gold and lilac at sunset

If we ate the rich
Their skin could line our altars
Or catch the heat slipping through our walls
To warm our hearts or frozen feet
Whichever love was needed most

If we ate the rich
And cleaned our teeth for ligaments
And spat out the fatty gristle
And when all that remained of the last billionaire
Were just an eyesocket and some coins

We could sit back,
Minds and bellies full to the brim,
Fragmented bourgeoisie burps ringing, melodious,
And laugh at those who claimed, in the old days,

"You can't eat money".

He walks the end of the pier, alone
No home to go to,
A ghost in ragged clothes
Passing among the crowds,
Unseen and unheard
But he always feeds the gulls,
Their noisy raucous squabbling
Over a few scraps of bread,
Reminds him of how unhappy
All these tourists really are,
Pretending to enjoy their holiday
Kidding themselves they are free.

The human appetite
To **** the pain
to not experience any
dis-
comfort

The human appetite
to run a-way
far,                      away
are
seeds planted from our
footsteps

The more we run
the bigger the
plant,     thump!  says despair
the hungrier
we get
the greater the ruin
in our run

Don't avoid
the burdens of
engaging lost plans, find again
your A,B,C's, a friendly classmate, your sister
or others.
Other Wise,
the human
starves its self
in a marathon
by sealing off mouths.

Alimentary,
Leaving one, you, her, they,
them,
in the
hunger cycle
to feed
then.  crushed
left over a lean-to void,
And endless hunger

Elementary words
     Don't avoid
pain.
          I L.o.v.e and Y.o.u
It requires a handshake
a' la carte,
Indulge in
nutrient rich
Appetites
The elementary
   remedy is not in
the crash diet.
Come home now.
Ring a bell
Your table is set
I am here
It's time for dinner.