This ground was thirsty
by god thirsty
been cracking and cursing for months
with only the vaguest hunch of a possible deluge

so these rains were drunk in abandonment
and the angry soil has yielded
soft underfoot, a sole cwtch
to be savoured, felt

the stream, so feeble last week
has remembered its fatness,
wetness, strength
recalling a bearing
thoughts are borne once again
with vigour to the constant sea

As I gazed at the starry night sky,
The stars whispered:
We are your horoscope, and your fortune tellers!
We bring your loved ones together, so you share and bask in our beauty.  
We shine so bright to illuminate and guide you through even your darkest of nights!

The moon whispered:
I am your loyal companion, and your secret keeper.
I provide you with light; I am the symbol of transition and progression!
I am the master of infinite beauty that inspires you with creativity and poetry!

The sun whispered:
Every day when I rise, I heal your old wounds.
With my shining face, I shower you with joy and smiles.  
I provide you a life full of hope, growth, and empowerment.
I am your eternal song of rebirth, inspiration, and a new promise for a better day!  

The earth whispered:
I have made myself a home for you and decorated it with trees, flowers, and rivers.
Do you remember when you had taken your first baby steps?
You stumbled and fell; I lifted you up with my gentle heart,
And provided you with everything that I have, to watch you grow and blossom.
When you are ready to depart, I promise to hold you like a baby in my gentle arms,
And bury your fragile body, along with your precious secrets, deep inside my heart.
I will embrace your soul with infinite love since I am your mother nature!

Hussein Dekmak

"DRUNK IN LOVE."

Gradually I'm getting possessed, obsessed by thy love--craft, emotionally flew his heart reaching out to her's. He's intoxicated drunk in love.
Lost in the
lovesome thought of her's. His
heart is detained  underneath
the water of
her soul.
So we're
sensitively
soul mates.
We met as 2 rivers confluences.
Indescribe-able
what these mean.
#C9_fm

The field was all he'd known
admiring the flowers
the butterflies
the snakes
they poisoned the field
the snakes.

The river is all he knows
Listening to the hum
of the river's flow
the trash
it polluted the river
the trash.

The field is all he needs
longing for the rich harvest
Of knowledge
the snakes
do not scare him
the snakes.

The river is the one in pain
the fish mourn
their home is dying
the river
it must be cleansed
my river.

Skimming and scanning
the grammar of the riverbank’s
brown leaf, new shoot syntax
a bold type wren,
like the old bouncing ball of singalongs,
led my eye to read the waterline
and yet I still couldn’t discern
if smiles or tears were written
while the branch tips still scribed

The river has pressed
Sleek backed
Beyond the bank
Forcing walkers back
Giving ducks new horizons
Opposite me here
Wet-footed on the bench
A bare tree is troubled
By some submerged thing
Making a frail and trembling hand
Of its upheld branches

Water moving through this place
Like a dark serpent
Water that fell on hills
Yielded from ice
A hundred miles from here
Passes me now
Passes the willow
Hanging in the last
Orange light of day
Trailing its fingers
In coils and eddies

It is all framed here
Indifferent and alive
Alive and forever passing

Poems flow in a stream
That winds through me
As I guide them,
Through meandering, uneven
Places in my life,
Or once in a while,
The smooth runs
Where fishing seems easy.
And I collect the pretty stones
That come to rest,
Water-washed, shining,
Along the river’s bank.
And often, there is a pool,
Green-blue, with clear water
And trout shadows, swift
And still, making a brief home,
Suspended above the sand.
Those are the ones I choose,
The surface touched only
By tree-filtered sunbeams
And beckoning on summer days.
It seems sometimes to me
That poets travel backward
Up to the source of beauty,
Where the water is still pure,
After struggling up through
Rapids and waterfalls,
Or wading through swamps
Down where the stream ends
And a wide river opens up.
Giant rivers can be majestic
But they often bury the gems
Brought down from the
From mountain caves and highlands
Swallowing them to swirl,
Mixed-up with the jewels
Of other poets’ streams.
And from remembrance
We gather our dreams.
Does sorrow fill the traveler
Who reaches the dark places
Where springs emerge
From some place we cannot see?

Near a river blue and clear
Birds chirping is all I hear
Sitting on a grassy hill
Chicken cooking on the grill
My family is there
We all sit in a square
We share the food equally
And have the food peacefully
Then we have a treat
Which is really sweet
At the end of the day
We all drove away
~29/3/21

I cloud my perception
From the judgement of
The sun

Confluence of love
Is the of sound of two rivers
Thundering on

Meandering across mesas
Veins of the upper crust
Flow through our entangled palms