Peeping in the rose
the sun is gone
with the twilight.

The moon is at home
down the sea floor
shows up a mirror!

It's a much sweeter today
than yesterday indeed.
Radiant meadows are on fire
beneath the trees
indulging blue fairies'
summer bowl of sun shines
abundantly overflowing
lavishly enough to render in
every rose of humming bees.

Pop up to flowers and bouquets
maybe the song on the birds' lips:
Time is today to jump in
on a London summer clement scene!

Up or deep down
which way is that
bedewed primrose path
the way forward?

Even the last breakthrough day
on the way heaven lingers
on sundried rosy evening clouds
let alone the roses that
never leave the ground.

Rose in a dew
I thought I caught
a glimpse of you.

Zooming in
I thought I can
get closer.
Only to eye on
upon a river
amid myriad
over looking stars.

A drop spans out
to be a sea
neither did it tarry.
I thought I would
give up that big
is not for me.

But yet a scene
never washed away
is intact unblurred
beneath the million
waves of the sea.
I thought the moon
will give up!
It can never touch
but always returns
over the sea
can't forget a scene.
So is me
once that
I chanced to see.

I belong
To the roses blooming with elegance,
The birds song yearning for love,
The spring singing the song of life,
The dawn declaring a new beginning,
The moon shining on lovers’ footsteps.

I Belong
To the cry of the suffering souls,
The dish that feeds the hungry stomaches,
The sacred justice that was crucified,
The whispers of my mother’s prayer.

I Belong,
To the kind words that sooth other’s pains,
The random acts of kindness,
The hearts that are full of compassion,
The idea that plant seeds for positive change,

I Belong,
To the hope of all of humanity,
The inventor of all of the infinite beauty,
The beautiful song of all of creation,
The God of the whole universe.

Hussein Dekmak

‘twas the Hour of The Raven,
Scolding at the Seven Seas,
Humidity can’t be seen
As the sun whirled
Its final twirl.

A flock of pigeons stand by Midnight’s Trolley Trail.

I am my own eye,
Staring at taught veils
'tween cotton gaits.

The clouds are no more,
Spirits remained encaged in rose sepultures,

A transformation so chaotic, they cackle at their false fear.

MY BLURRINESS SEEMS TO BURN
STEADY. ready,
For what to behold.

I have left Universe to relay ,
As the subtle sun one did in its day.

I am left
To react.

React to what?
React to wee?            React,
to relationships,        React,
to their degree of nobility,
So fruitful, so radical in concept indeed.


Of all these perspectives
I am one.
One paper, one tree cut for endless possibilities.

The treasure remains underneath,
Where I weep
In the deep,
In the deep.

There is nothing to find,
And that made all the difference.

'twas the Hour of The Raven,
Scolding at the Seven Seas.

𝖆𝖓𝖉
   𝕾𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖎𝖉 "𝕴 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖉𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖘."