I’m going to shatter like glass into a thousand, thousand pieces;
and then I’m going to put myself back together again.
Just like I always do. Just like the phoenix and the flame

My favorite music is the tune that I hear playing off at the hospital, when a COVID 19 patient is off the ventilator!

This music is:
A song of a new dawn,
A journey to the future,
A melody of new life,
A symphony of hope, and
The rebirth of the universe!

Hussein Dekmak

Dearest October,
please be kind -
already the leaves are flame-bright,
and made fragile -
I am the same:
ready to fall to the earth
decay
and find rebirth among the twining roots

Dearest October,
please be kind -
my leaves are changing hue
and grown fragile
in the season of change,
ready to feed the hungry ground -
fodder for the spring rot

Dearest October,
please be kind -
my leaves are tearing away,
plucked and pulled by each ardent breeze,
My roots grow deep,
bracing for the winter
and the dark night of rest

Suffering is but love put so beautiful
From the vibrant shades of the astral plane
I open up to my window
To see my shadow so dark and gloomy
As I sing my celestial song
I reflect upon a point
Where I can't quite grasp the melody
Out of touch and not in harmony with Yours Truly
If a tear could mirror my struggles
Put out before my vision
And I can conceptualize
A better time to come in this very moment
Then I must not deny myself
The reality of One
Which habitualizes itself in this continuum
A string of everlastness which forms a net
And all that interconnects
From a source that's omnipotent in Its glory
O Mother,
As my Father works in mysterious ways
And the Law 'IS' which shall not move place
I extend from Your Womb
And excite in Your Grace
As You delight,
In the Eye of my play

They started when I was
Four years of age
And that was when I realized my soul
The very essence of my mind
Had a passport
As well
My spirit age 4000
My mortal age
31

When your light shines pure. You will not be born, you will not die.

Ascension

The sun will rise
And in the darkest parts of my mind
They have no control at all
I’ve risen from the ashes, reborn
This misery has no say
Hatred has died from all of this hunger
I’ve made peace with these demons
Rising with the sun
I am claiming my throne
I am a new being
This is my ascension

A summer dress, perhaps
deserves a summerish redress.

In the witching hour, solitude's domain,
there is naught but
I, and the white-hot eclipse for my eye.

I have one hand beneath your neck,
and another behind your knees.
In these gloves, I will drown and resurrect
my fair dress, one-and-only Sunday Best,
sodium hypochlorite cocktail mess.
My alternative hydrotherapy
is a remedy from my enemy.

You traffic through this well of hell in ease.
A fire drunken on the Lethe.
Deliquesce in clinical scents.

Your skin thrives on the purge,
but mine cannot survive.

I've grown to love
the sound of my name

swaddled in the contour
of my cupid's bow;

rolling off the tides
of my tongue;

humming
like earthquakes
in my vocal cords

my name--

Jade,
after the precious gemstone.

~

A girl named Jade
beckons the moon
so that it sits
between her palms
brings it closer to earth
through her camera lens,

photographing celestial portraits,
each crater immaculately reproduced.

She grows bouquets
of bluebells in her lungs,
poetic eidos
ringing
from her mouth,

fingers pulsing
against the typewriter
like the oscillation
of a butterfly's wings.

The soft hiss of verse
dissolves on the reader's taste buds,

each stanza an exhalation of
profundity--

unforgettable.

Maybe you were the one
to walk away
but
there will always be
a part of you
that mourns.

Her name etched
onto the surface of your ribs
like they are tombstones

(and they are tombstones).

You lie in wait to be
haunted

(because that's the only way
you'll ever see her again.)


A girl named Jade--

ferociously loyal

but she also declares
her own worth,
recognizing those who will only
abbreviate it.

She is a melodic composition
of sunflower petals and stardust--

but that does not make her fragile;

for her bones
are cast with iron;

mind the crown of
Athenian wisdom;

heart a pounding sea

where water lilies float
and leaches drown;

And of her soul?

A girl named Jade
wears her soul
in an aurora borealis
of purple light

(just as she was always meant to).