ideas are wordless, in the wild,

in the willful tongue untamed
they twist and bend and prevaricate,

wait, that voice,
put that in words, and give up the glory,

all you did was listen,
or read. Thank you.

Least said, soonest mended.

Born of mind and heart and folded by the soul,
thus a poets words are forged.
Cast upon the fickle breeze or dispersed by howling gale,
perhaps to find new minds and hearts in which to grow.

Imagination is
the ocean at sunset
thought is a boat
emotion is the wind in a morning
life is the home of the sea
inspiration is the direction of wind
ink is the treasure of the hall
love is the gold in the chest
destiny is the shore
imagination is lighthouse
in the dark
thought is a candle
emotion is the symbol
of a tower
life is the guardian of lamp
youth is the power
of a tower
inspiration is the source
of light
ink is the soulmate of life
destiny is the creator of a fountain
inspiration is the marching
footsteps
carrying inspired ideas
the love
of the century
in the universe
of life.

The fluidity of words
Consecrating more than
A simple idea
Has slipped away

And what’s left are
Empty hands and
Silent mouths
Void of sophistication

How can I, a source of such exuberant energy, look so startled?
Black, sunken eyes with a wide, gaping mouth that can **** you, but also bring things to life.
Hunched against the wall, I pale in comparison to the pretty polka-dot paint,
just a hard, blank shell covered in dirt, grime, and dust.
Come to me only when time is on the line, with forceful, shaking hands.
to fill my deep, dark void with a surge of passion,
only to abandon me for hours at a time, while I exert all my energy just to bring you joy.
I hum and buzz until you rip away my nutrients until I’m ****** and drained,
with my surprised expression returning to one of electrifying horror.
But still, I’m the lucky one to give you a glowing light, always full, to destroy the darkness.
I’m not one that gets lost in dusty shadows that might never be found,
who sits in silence, with that shocked face, waiting to find out his powerful purpose.

Let me be:
The sweet smile on your face,
The rainbow colors in your eyes,
And the tsunami of your desires.

Let me be:
The anthem of happiness on your lips,
The eternal imprints of your world,
And the flame to your candle of peace and joy.

Let me be:
The inspiring idea in your mind,
The carved letters of your soul,
And the river of love in your veins.

Hussein Dekmak

They were a common or garden,
run-of-the-mill variety
of right weird bleeders.
Individually, nothing I'd not seen before.
But oh boy, together -
it was like the circus had passed through and their apprentice scheme had got left behind.
Mind you,
you could see what they were attempting,
and give them a few years
I'm sure they would figure out a style
and colour scheme
that worked.
For now,
well like I say
- right weird bleeders.