Let me do to you what has been done:

Love to heart
Day to night
Light to darkness
Rain to earth

Bees to flower
Water to fish
Books to mind
Oxygen to lung

Beauty to eyes
Kindness to people
Fire to surroundings
Moon to night sky

Medicine to pain
Poetry to soul
Flute to ears
Spring to the tree


Hussein Dekmak

dog days
a murdered child's
        spoiled remains
   muddy the reservoir
soiled
the tap water  must be filtered
    for years to come
                in memoriam

I used to believe I wanted to be like water.
Water that melds into any shape.
Water that is relaxing and peaceful.
Water that, when given enough time, can cut through anything.
But now I realize I want to be like fire.
Fire that gives warmth and comfort.
Fire that burns fast, creating its own path.
Fire that gives light in total darkness,
Giving you an opportunity to find your way out.
Water is used.
Fire is untamable.

my heart fell from my ribs
and the heavy, dense-packed air,
and into you,
my holy water;
you held me up.
when i couldn’t even lift myself.
please, my love, please
baptise me in your everything.
bind me to a world of sacred religion
where prayer is peace
and you are the god.
…i’ll worship you like water.

the grey against the blue sky,
      metal bars,
            power coursing,

it pokes high above the horizon,
      tall,
           mighty,
                     human,

nova scotia's hills don't rise up nearly as far,
     flat in all directions,
                  textureless, and
                                  so, so wide,

large trucks drive beside the tower,
      small,
            pathetic,

A bigger truck comes by, washed in red,
      loud,
            bright,
                    blaring,­
    
the smell of smoke upon the suits of the
     brave,
           the daring,

the big, blue, cloud-filled, wonderful sky,
       blue no longer,
                    their hope,
                             lost in minutes,

no death, yet so much smoke,
      smoke,
            like the swirl of sand in water,

the water sitting near the strong metal bars,
       the telephone tower,
                         still tall and mighty,

the water with the highest tides in the world,
       rippling hard,
                  against the rocks on shore,

orange buoys float roughly in the harbour,
     a line to never,
                     ever cross,

kids will boat out there with their paddles,
     the breeze knocking them,
             side,
                  to side,

and the world breathes in, for it holds all,
       good or bad,
                  and it is full,

full despite everything.

Atlantis

A body blessed
With perfection and purity.
A pond running
Down a village stream
With grace and beauty.
Sunlight drips like honey
Through the trees,
Into the warming body—
Nature’s purest creation.

The sun breathes
Warmth into the water.
Kids swimming
In the most loving
Bedtime story,
Putting their minds
To sleep—
Just for a second,
Entranced
By happiness—
So much so,
It almost feels
Like home.

An Atlantis
That never fell—
The only purity
Left in the world.

Birds awaken,
Turning silence into song.
Splashing sounds echo.
Lotus flowers bloom
On the surface,
Shedding sweet, scented petals
Into the water—
Feeling like,
There a relic
From the lost city of
Atlantis—
Reminding everyone
Of nature’s innocence.
The sweet scent
Reminds the children
Of a mother’s hug.

This is our Atlantis—
Our purest creation.

I cut it because,
I know that I I don’t.
A cold swollen body,
Won’t always float.
Saltwater’s more harsh,
It stings in my throat.
Traversing the seas
In a decommissioned boat

They say when the lungs,
Swallow it in,
You're taken over by calm,
Three scars on your shin.