I am learning to fly every day, every night
I am learning to fly on my own
spreading my wings wanting to catch the sun  
With the break of dawn

With its rays being so hot and bright
to be loved…can it blind?
I feel the weight of my feathers cling to the skin
and me clinging to hope like it is a sin

I hope to be always caressed by the sun
Lullabied by the gentle breeze
And during the raging storms  
being able to hide in the crown of the trees

My wings are still growing, I am not flying high
While my thoughts are already somewhere in space
In my dreams, I am already far in the sky
Flying high at a fast steady pace

“A delusion?”, you’d ask me; I would say, “life”.
After all, I’m a bird learning to be free
I will think of the failures and downs in the afterlife

But for now, I’m not afraid to fly above the rolling sea.

Deep in my heart,
There's a crow who sings
Songs of love
For his darling wife.
Their love lives on
In my fragile heart.
Though he's mute
To others around,
he is headstrong
And keeps me moving.
He's quiet still,
Recalling the
Memories of the past
When his wife
Still walked the earth-
Before you
Killed her with your words.

I am slender and my figure is the topic of discussion
unsolicited advice about how much I should eat
as if my weight is their goal to reap
I am skin and bones just like you
I feel confident and insecure just like you
Looking into my mirror and reflecting on your comments
Analyzing every curve or lack thereof like it is a contest
who can be the King and Queen of Fools
suffering self-esteem underneath the entrenched rules
I hope you never feel the way you make others feel
A broken bird

He looked me in the eye
And demanded to know
Why the car wasn't running
He needed to go
And I stared back
Without expression on my face
Thinking he's trapped
And running for the cage
He saw it then
The truth in my gaze
His panic grew and then rage
Then everything vanished
But his silent plea
And I stared back
And I stared back

Today is wasted
Not like the others, it
Seems to have a revolution of it's own
Yet, the scent remains the same.

These muscles exude the sangria colored
Muck, these layers of filth jet out like lined walls of a prison cell.
Oh why do they retain this scent.

This cube of cubes I reside in
Where art thou mine Calypso,
How darest thou give teachings
As if your tragedy can give thoughts to we golems of rust.

Stick to staying stuck
Until these brittle cages carry no more
This gluttonous weight
Will we be songbirds once
More.

sweet birdsong consumes
the bitterness of cities
a summer morning

When a leaf stops dancing to the music of life, and the melody of the birds has ceased, it changes to yellow and gently falls off the tree of life.

Hussein Dekmak