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Nat Lipstadt Jan 2023
Sunday afternoon
her best bud,
our dearest friend,
coming over for
a television marathon:

appetizer, a glass onion,
a ****** mystery to whet,

NFL football main course,
accompanied by her pasta bolognese,

plus a tasty choice of English after-dinner treats,
with chocolate chip cookies, candied pecans,
a platter of  BBC sweet treats,
even one Viennese,
some creatures large and small,
a Victorian female most scarlet.

I proffer:

I will wear my
best pressed
bleu jeans,
my new Kit & Ace bleu sweater,
(that she bought me)
actively participating in all
activities, even keep my cussing
to a tolerable minimum,
and if asked, will gather in a taxi,
no matter it raining bitter cold.

She weighs my terms,
her acceptance:

Responding that my
dress code excessively formal,
sweatpants will be
infinitely more comfortable,
than jeans, given the intense
intensity of couched exertion.

A sole thought courses through my body:

what a magnificent creature
you have planted in my garden
2:09 PM
sun Jan 8

We are called God’s masterpiece –
We are His art in progress.
Each was an abstract of their kind
And only the Artist knows how to interpret it;
Only He knows what we are made of and made for.

When others see the beauty in us,
The credit is not ours but to our Artist.
He made us and He finds beauty in us.

Art is an expression
And God expressed Himself through us.
What kind of Artist is He?
Who made us out of His image.

How selfless is He?
And how loving is He?
No one can even take a glimpse
Of His mindful plans for us.

And so we are meant to create something new,
Something that our soul is passionate about,
Something that boosts our confidence in the Lord,
Something that brings us to the fulfillment of His purpose for us.

To express ourselves in various forms of art —
The art of love, forgiveness, redemption, salvation, and so on.
We indeed are God’s art
And as we continue to align ourselves with Him
That picture becomes clearer each day.
Hussein Dekmak Jan 2021
Let me be the spring of your life, and bring you a touch of:
Sweetness, and
Ever lasting happiness,
Like a beautiful flower.

Hussein Dekmak
Edited 2
Fay Grace Aug 2020

The generation of today is living an insecure life.
Life full of comparison
Possession of things without thinking of what may happen
A generation trying to prove others that they are the best

A generation where young and energetic men are trying to prove themselves by destroying others.
A generation where big and high class daddies destroy the young with material things
A confused generation showing their happiness and wealth through photography
A confused generation  hard to love people from a broken family
         Everything is invalid!

We suffer insecurities we didn't create
Many are becoming insecure
Completely unstable
Trying to compare themselves with our today's models and celebrities of our century
Probably hiding behind makeup
Cause probably without the makeup!
They,themselves are a hot mess!
They pay a ransom to look great!
If beauty is in the eyes of the beholder!
Then,why suffer so much trying to look spectacular?
Why spend to your last coin attracting a whole lot of people?
They say beauty comes from within
Our generation need to stand courageously
And fight against the enemy of self insecurity!
Hussein Dekmak Aug 2020
After sinking deep into darkness, a glimpse of hope has gently whisked me away to a magnificent world of beauty!

Hussein Dekmak
Edited 2
G A Lopez Jun 2019
Out of style, out of place
Who would like this unattractive face?
Unable and sometimes called cattle
I failed, they chuckled.

I cried a bucket and I just dodge.
Losing my self-esteem.
I need to recharge
It's difficult being different
But dear, you're magnificent.
Euphie Dec 2019
Ciao Rome, you were a splendid dream.
Au revoir Paris, you were like an autumn kiss.
Adios Barcelona, your crevices were filled
with the scent of cayenne pepper.
La revedere Bucharest, may your skies be filled with summer love.
Antio sas Athens, your temples are magnificent.
Hunter Green Nov 2019
Twisting of beauty should not deform the idea, the beauty itself.
Why oh why do clouds of black, rain down on the subject of shame and pain?
Why can’t the weapon be materialized?
Why can’t the lies be realized?

Beauty is the best source of pain.
Take a thing high in glory,
Pure and pleasing,
Disturb the foundation,
And watch it fall.
The height lets it into the darkest hole.

Why is this so?
Why must what is made most magnificent,
Suffer from a subtle switch of substratum,
To break and bend hearts so badly beaten,
Until it becomes easier to drown in poison then,
To take a breath of oxygen?
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