Was he demented?
Yes.
Was he troubled?
Most definitely.

He was everything they are calling him.
A gambling addict.
A retired accountant.
A mass murderer.

But he was something else
In addition to all these things.

He was a terrorist.

I know that word doesn't sit well with you
Unless the person it accuses doesn't look like you
Doesn't talk like you
Doesn't live
like
you.

But this man lived a life exactly like yours.
Up until that day
He was exactly
like
you.

Normal in every sense
Of your perception of "normal."

Up until that day
He was all of these words
Except a terrorist.

Now he has committed an act of terror
Yet no one in power has called him out
As a terrorist.

I find it odd that we avoid
Words that so perfectly describe one's actions
Simply because he doesn't fit the profile
You created in your head.

Dear God that created heaven and earth
And set the colours on the feathers of birds
Dear God who knows tomorrow
And points the water waves in the direction it should go

Dear God of my forefathers...
You whose voice aflames the heavens with a clap of shattering thunders
Or cry when you may seasonally in startled sizzling showers
You are my God, i have no other.

Dear God who formed my being from dust
And made me rich whilst i was but poor, undone
In grace and in the gift of your gracious love
I am most humble to wash in your preciuos blood!

You who speak and the sea is stilled
Or decree a thing and it cometh to be.

When tomorrow comes,
My dream would be
To awaken one person's thoughts,
Through inspiration, smiles, and  prayer,
And to whisper into that individual's heart,
Kindness and humility.

Hussein Dekmak

The swell of your feverish hands over mine.
Sweat soaking into my skin.
I’m clutching every part of you I can grasp,
Every part of you I can fit into my palm.

We’re sitting beneath the hollow tree,
Beneath the ocean of a sky,
Beneath the screaming black-billed cuckoos.

We don't say a word because we don't need to;
Just silent prayers burned between us,
Scarred into pale, malnourished bones.

I look at you as your sloe-eyed gaze
bores into the mountains of clouds swimming above us.

I want to kiss you,
But all I can do is lay my head on your shoulder,
Wishing I could build a home out of your collarbones.

I don't ever feel safe anymore.

Except when I’m forgetting everything, with you.

At dusk,
I tried to unlearn the way the gold in your skin,
Possessed your face in scintillant rays of spots.

I could count each one if I had the time,
But you’re already turning your spine stuffing back away from me,
And skipping back home

Without the bother or concern to look back.

So many dreams, I venture to live.
So many breaths, I take to live them.

So many gifts, I see before eyes.
So many miracles, I have in moment.

So many footsteps, I take to dance.
So many rhythms, I hear in heart.

So many prayers, I send with gratitude
So many treasures, I have in life.


StarBG © 2017