When you squint your eyes
you help the light properly reach the fovea
as those who are to come to
appear amongst the foggy mist in the vicinity of your mind
descendants, bleary figures
almost close enough to touch
   their outlines refracting
from the surface of this wet and wild time
–a mirage in this heat–
you wonder
whether the way you live in this world
is an illusion 
or if their silhouettes are the phantasmagorias

the weight of their lives, our overconsumption
(is this why we are dying?)

...they do not have a countenance
or a name by which to call them into this teeming orb  
your womb, our earth –can it not hold them?

From the womb of Coronavirus,
Comes the birth of a new human with a noble cause, a new purpose, a Renewed vision, and a new mentality, one that:

Listens to cries of the people, and lift their spirits.
Sheds tears over the innocent lives claimed.

Values close family ties, friendship, and recites a wishful prayer to
Alleviate the suffering of distressed souls.

Protects the elderly, takes care of their neighbor, shares meals with the Hungry, and renders services to others, expecting nothing in return.

The birth of a new human,
Who thinks, breathes, speaks and acts with kindness ,
Who’s molded from humility,
With a mind full of reflection, and a
Soft heart encompassed with love!

Hussein Dekmak

I first heard the
lullaby in the
womb.
It has a pulse
and rhythm.
It was embedded in
my tissue and cells.
And when I was shot out,
****** and naked,
the cord was cut.
The journey began.

At five years old,
I remember closing
my eyes, and lying
down to go to sleep,
it felt like I was
being rocked.
I wonder if the
subconscious mind was
remembering the
rhythm of the womb.
My Mom--pregnant with me
walking upstairs--downstairs,
elevators
escalators
movement
pulse,
the eternal lullaby of
the womb.
When I closed my
eyes, it felt like I
was being rocked.
It felt like I was
in a swing;
back and forth.
Easy, like a fragrant
spring night.

I feel and hear the
pulse--the rhythm,
the heart in everything.
In footsteps--in the wind,
in the ancient river, and
in the mermaid's song.
I feel it in
the beating of the
hummingbird's wings.
I see it in
Van Gogh's jagged sky,
in the flight pattern
of the wasp.

There is a rhythm in
death and birth.
Oh my God, the rapture of
the rhythm of love and
joy--so sublime.
The primal beat of a
heartbreak--pain,
like painting with
blood.
So real
too lucid.
Icarus, let's fly into
the sun, drunk on
***** or cheap wine.
We'll escape--liquid smooth,
until our wings melt,
and we fall back down,
crash
to the pulse
the rhythm
***  ***
***  ***
***  ***.

Sometimes,
I wish I were
a rock.

We huddle together
like memories in a womb,
to be delivered as twins.

I'll never **** with her,
           she's more lethal..
   than a James bond villain…

Her legs have more power
  than a Fukushima releasing
             her poison between
     my hips.

I'm a rod and she's
the water containing my
          explosion...

but she evaporated,
             never watching...

Realising,

that what I release is like a virus.


           Contaminating the womb
of creative contagion...


You'll float in the abortion of my
         chock hold of words...


You'll never be born, still born words,
                     I'll burn you in a shallow grave.
And you'll realise that I'm never  to be ****** with.


My words were like a machete of gunfire cutting
            you up before you even knew pain.

I'm a nationwide hunt, and you'll be buried
                                                       in my words,
shallow rhymes, given a urinated burial...
  
                           I'm relieved your here and not in my view.

when i was younger
i never understood the saying
'ignorance is bliss.'
how can one not want to know more about the world?
now that i've matured,
now that i've experienced the horrors of this world,
the fear has entrapped me.
disgusted, i fled.
i fled to my safe place
but when i reached,
i found it to be tainted.
no longer did it bring me comfort.
my mind has become paranoid.
every single movement
every single moment
has brought me to my edge.
i now understand.
i just wish to be naïve again
to forget the terrors,
to live in my cocoon,
i sometimes wish i'd stayed inside
my mother's womb,
never to come out.