Melody of Being Anime: Poetry

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA. PALESTINE WILL BE FREE. | 30.03.2024

I whisper to my soul, this world remains indifferent
to the paths we tread, yet God beholds them all.
I remind myself we ought to live with intent,
for God, the singular witness, notes our rise and fall.

I battle myself, confront sins that Heaven’s gates will refuse.
My heart alone speaks, yearning for that divine embrace.
No fear of those who innocence abuse,
smearing children’s blood, blind to its holy trace.

Indifferent they remain, to their cleansing,
dividing a world anew — ask the earth-shakers of their apartheid.
They’ll not speak of you, the wronged, the prophetic,
for their deeds are veiled, their consciences unclean.

We march, we cry, our cities echo your plight,
mourning for lives lost, of the terror from the skies.
Apologies we offer, through your sleepless nights,
for tainted waters, pacified hunger, broken families, silenced cries.

For brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters we weep,
with every day they choose to turn away.
We warn them, God observes His flock, His sheep,
if His fear they lack, our resolve they’ll surly prove.

To Gaza’s mothers, fathers, children, hear our vow,
our fight for you persists, unwavering, every minute, this we vow
To those who silence keep, your time approaches now,
a new era dawns, and with it, a choice of now.

When the call is raised, who will you stand beside?
From the river to the sea, hear the cry that freedom makes:
Palestine will be free, from the river to the sea.

Fire in the Rain. By Fatma Hussein 2021

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Tamu. | 9.12.20

Take me up, talk nice to me, I want to know what it’s like to touch melt the skies that have held high my dreams — clutch, and the clouds that came home rested my tears entwined I care say they let it go forgave now, restored with our storms the scent that lingers in the air right after a heavy storm, we have become from it all, — she see’s her self so lucky she will bring her own alive back from each and every death needed sentenced demanded patience, baby go get your sun, the glories waiting it’s turns, they come according to plan, how divine, we do not yield at challenge, — challenge learns to yield before us; Before soul, right after feeding on communication with Venus, — swim to me my darling we can weather any lifetime together, — you’re never lost here only found, here we do not rain without lesson, — we will never perish, eternal are those knowing of matched power that lives from a gratitude so intentioned as a love solidarity to it’s unconditional destiny. — You chose happiness, you watch as happiness chooses you, — you watch as you create your own life, magic has never looked so grad and familiar at the same time, — has it love. You asked me once before, now tell me what do you remember about this spell. — Talking in tongue strengthens; Shhh.

FUTURISTIC PROJECT: WYNDHAM ART GALLERY 2020

I had the amazing opportunity to be part of this FUTURISTIC project I feel so humbled honored and blessed for this opportunity and more to come. Please see what Melbourne artists alongside myself have created ✨🤗✨🤭✨  @experiencewyndham #WyndhamArtGallery #DeepWest #2020 #2020Vision #Futuristic ✨🤭🤗✨ #yourfavdreamer ✨🤗✨✨

E-INTIVE: https://www.exhibitionsatwyndhamartgallery.com/

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Do you have soul. | 8.9.20

I have had it with all the silence around my memories jagged and mismatched remembering nights that left cold hearts unwavering, there has been a life lost here, when you shed yourself you’re pathing a purging of panicked bodies and heated souls, the emblem you carry here will show you vivid events about yourself that have bled to bless the surface world, it is never faint to calm your own demons when they are learning to breath here too, when we are learning to harmonize each other the collateral pieces of our identity past, present and future flying around us it is not easy to watch yourself break tirelessly the impact it leaves on the purest of hearts can be forced to damage the most careful of minds, still, — we are seeds humbled by softness, finding your soul in a soulless world occupied by bodies that do not know how to stand strong in their bright power is enough to make an eager soul claim a pain that can be felt from the souls of the feet to the crown of heads, as if humility and humor were to dabble meanings, loosing to love is about as funny as looking at a dead garden striped of it’s blossom and surviving just to breathe-, when did loving less becoming something to laugh bravely about, when you are lucky enough to meet a being bruised by love your voice emanating generosity will find its way full to one’s heart able to ease and use compassion with one’s mind, we do not take the goodness of this honeyed planet and turn it to sticks and stones, — we can all laugh about it when there is no humility present to hold us determined to our own outcast of ourselves, when blame has shifted it does not stop it’s next karma, how dear do you hold love, how much do you swear to protect love in laughing pessimists of the humility held into world’s present and apart, when does one stop to smell the flowers it has watched to witness a rebirth of the true power of love by gleaming it’s treasured hue having perspective in faith, a hopeful love is a lover in a moments memory of it’s past, present and future of love-. One does not know no bounds to mishandled bodies taught to taunt love even when it is sure love has taught more than it cares to admit, when we are humbled, perspective favors optimism in bodies rightfully thought to be held back by lessons that needed their attention to vine with faith restored into their playful hearts and beautiful minds. It was never about carelessness, it was about the company it invited to over stay it’s welcome.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Wet. | 20/4/20

When I hold my heart this stoic into love we form sentences that seem to cling to our highest self the most, we confide into our boundaries how we speak at love and not into it, for so long we have spoken out for love never took time to know about loves identity how each letter feels in the mouth and curls out the tongue, the twins in you know this feeling all too well, they are your most innocent love light, the intensity of this feeling is almost longing, the chaser and the runner effect is no stranger to attraction that feels as though you were or could be a lesson or the last love you must have as it leaves lovers mouth, as human beings we are at loves mercy when we do not know the ways in which it resides into our whole before we start to select its truest feeling, loved and being in love once before I knew about what power I held into love alone, will always be one of the rosed gardens inside my home their thorns are not new to our heat, only known for its scarlet crimson velvet gaze this too will be a home I also always choose to grow gardens of serenity, tranquil gratitude in loves mirror, the tense is important to recognize when speaking notes of passion, song in boundaries, animated intensity and love in each their own lesson love and loved, I have been at loves mercy too, I knew one day it would be my turn, I did not expect love at my front door this way, knew touch while in a dreamy state, a peaceful stream flowing with ease, guarded air of simplicity’s like how love says your name is enough to turn you into the ocean itself, we did not know of glassed eyes this way we are still learning to know love too, how long is eternity into a feeling that has left the world speechless about it truest meaning, do you know the answer, do you know love at all, if you saw love what would your light towards it be, what words would your soul speak?

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Air work. | 20/4/20

Imagine meeting love again, imagine they speak the way they smile and you could almost take it all back. -remember, remember how their charm invited you to being here, to stay, how love said we belong together, that this was more than the way he looks at you-, remind you they have bruised this body so much turned it into soft enough, your home turned into something consumed by heart break, shy of love, dagger into them, sometimes also the mirror, I’ve told the universe to leave me out of their eyes this way too, I have prayed times that know I have turned my body into soft flesh, easily bruised my home when did it become this naive, who said love me, locked their eyes with mine, softly took my hands into my heart, spoke like they knew what they were doing, I thought love was their twins too, they become familiar with words like they don’t know the body is home, love resides first into me, a carefree careless air about their hands, their eyes lost into mine, this air who comes into a life and says words like hi, how are you, you look happy, as though to mean the opposite as though to mean are you happy without me, as though the eyes spoke for the second time that shift, as though I thought it mean anything but, I am left out of this conversation, I hold my hand to not be back here again, I have called onto my home told them to lock all the doors, said stay safe, they tell me the key is not under the front door it is in your right hand.- and I realize how often I have handed them the key when they filled my space instead of adding to its legacy.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Soul (black cat) Conversations | 30.01.20

I’ve been trying to understand the way trust finds its space centered into us, how it would feel to make the choices we do over our empathy and how that can make room for another way into us too, a new skill we didn’t know enough about is now something that has been done into us, we tore our layers back enough into careful heartbeats, pacing, how often is it you make these vision choices without its receiver, tell me, how did it feel, and if so what did you learn about yourself here, when you crossed paths with a type of higher self how did she taste, how often are we aware enough to sense that even we need to give ourselves the chance enough to make air for the way we move around us too, we are always closer to our soul then we may think it, this is also where we start to care for her wounds, its why we learn to nurture her teachings here too, when we look into us often we are able to give ourselves away to another’s inner child only to hear our voices out loud, only to feel lost before understanding why that is, empathy is our greatest catalyst of gratitude, learning to feed her is still a new kind of self love for me here, very quickly we know those who care enough are to never run away from within, most of the time when we are asking to be loved we are needing to be found, we do not ever mean from outside of our home first, these illusions in our 3D play on our fears and our ego fights back the only way it knows how only to learn you about what is still begging to be healed, when we surrender to face our mirror time and time again we are learning to purge we telling her our soul permission to ascend in our power, how long are you to run away from yourself until you understand that this type of love will never leave you, she is both lesson and fever, her heartache is not like another, be weary of her presence, give her too the time and space to give you the acceptance you have been starving from long before you knew its name, her love is a constant reflection of how you choose to love her first, she is a reaper extenuation of what is waiting for you ahead. -Do not look back any longer there is nothing left for her here anymore.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Cup and Swords.

trigger one is a faced mirror we have been seen in us more then we think, how often we like to look in our own eyes so we can pass through these illusions, we like to take turns blocking each others space we are left to purge its feeling and release its expectation, so often flames test her will just to see if she is still here, to know about her cup, to keep her live and well between these two realities.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

14.8.19 | Dove.

How do I love now, I write you into the places I have found you into my soul, a part of our whole, a beating heart that feels a lot like a home, its a lot like the way it feels watching the rain, its something like finding a whole that speaks my love language and we match intensities, that part might just be the water Venus in me, its nothing like these flowers, I need a worthy flame to match, its being able to surrender to the air around me and liking it, the way it feels with you is the same as when I get to spend the day with my soul surrounding myself with my favorite words, its the feeling of the days where I am silly happy for no tangible reason, moments where I understand the feeling of touch, and stop making love out to be so matter of fact, truth is love isn’t always as logical as we may love it to be, when emotions are involved no matter how much we fight its feeling it will still rise the only way it knows how best, honestly, my love is how it feels to kiss you without any fear, how it feels when you take my hands into yours, its looking into each others souls, loving is knowing my worth is matched in energy and high vibration, they say the way law of attraction works is easy, yet I’m not sure its so easy to know what you want and know what you’re willing to love about souls no matter how much you realize you fill each other, maybe this is also part of being enough into love, I guess I understand that a love connection is something like creating a whole with each others honest selves, like a whole new world, like hearing words like we belong together spoken out loud and remembering that love could be centered at courage.