Ermin Basic British-Bosnian Author

Pull Me Out, London

Everything touches me when I open up and show my feelings – poems, poetry, smiles of girls I’ve just met, the touch of their words, enigmatic fates, different countries, continents, races… and I love them all, even if only for an hour, a day, a month.

They pull me out of my inner battles and sadness, save me from unrequited love and lead me to the twilight wind on the river of the soul that flows – sometimes with a whirlwind of warm dreams of happy love, sincere touches, kisses from restless breasts – and then, in the end, I sink into the blue, deep lake of the eyes of the woman I love, who is far away, yet lingers on my dreamy brows of present pain. I am certain of meeting her in the heaven of forgiveness, in my destiny and Allah’s eternal trial, with hope that I will be closer to Muhammad if I earn a place in Jannah.

Alhamdulillah for the sun, the earth, the water, the air – and for love and faith.

12.05.25

On the way from The Ivy to Richmond Hill, London

RICHMOND HILL PARK

Don’t Worry, Be Happy

Roots deep inside me,

stumps of a torn soul.

Young shoots,

like ever-new love

smouldering within me.

The sun dances

with the needles of pines and firs,

hollows in the dewy earth

and vegetation with tears

flutter on the canvas of early autumn

in the pupils of the eyes.

Fallen leaves

caress the peace all around me.

Herbaria of past years

etched in motionless clouds,

in the blue sky

on the mirror of your love’s breath

that blazes inside me.

I cannot,

nor do I wish,

to escape from myself —

into you.

“Don’t worry, be happy”…

Bob Marley would say.

30.09.25

Richmond Hill

RICHMOND PARK

Sunset with Does and Stags

Twilight tears my heart hidden in the belly of a stag with golden antlers that curl along the bark of centuries-old oaks, carving sharp light into the codes of my past from the depths of the trunk.

A silvery winding river ends its journey on the belly of a yellow, elongated, skinny dog who opens its jaws and drinks in the thoughtful overflows of colour from the fire that flames inside me.

A black raven plays with brownish clumps of green grass, then flies to the top of a leafless solitary tree and offers a view of a cluster of buildings that tell it how to reach the peak of the burning red sun, chasing through blue clouds without burning in the heat of the solar wind that is everywhere around me and boils on my skin.

Golden-silver-brown and yellow-green-red-blue vanish with the black darkness of night, and I shiver from the cold and the fear of darkness that looms over my feelings, as usual…

01.03.25

Richmond Park

HOLLAND PARK

Rain

Weightless state of mind,

thunder of sobs melts into raindrops,

glimmer of dutiful touches with tears in the darkness of a blue-green evening,

fleeing somewhere far away to lonely thatched huts,

like the centre of a pale prayer unanswered by mankind,

yet sincere as an infant’s innocent gaze.

Soaked rust-red treetops exhale from the weary, gloomy eyes of beasts

hidden in the womb of a bird of prey.

I claw the surface of a transparent lake with the talons of a lynx killed in the search for unreal strength,

but in truth out of fear of the blue depths of the sea of passion.

The canyon of truth reveals itself in the coming morning,

full of boundless rainbow colours in their original form,

stretching as far as the sorrowful gaze can reach,

to an unfathomable happy ending.

18.09.23

Holland Park

Three Squirrels

A jackdaw croaks, a robin chirps, a gull slices through the air,

and three mischievous squirrels jump, run and climb high trees,

while a little baby on a shoulder imitates the sounds, smiling face and rosy cheeks.

A colourful robin and a silvery squirrel come close to me,

looking at me innocently and cautiously,

as the blue sun breaks through the green canopies.

Tame dogs of different colours and shapes pass by me without a trace of malice in them.

I listen to the jumble of chirping from diverse birds,

with restless insects all around me.

I close my eyes and, bathed in sunlight,

I wish to remain there forever,

sitting on a raw, cut tree stump…

05.03.25

Holland Park

Flight of Black Birds

Some fly in harmony, keeping a strangely equal distance between them, absorbing rays beneath blue clouds, foretelling the ends of fateful paths so they can steal light from the emptiness of the soul.

Others randomly leave traces on the red sky, then die from the heat of my gaze, lost in the depths of spiritual growing up somewhere on the shores of a lost open sea covered with ground white bones of discarded dreamers who nevertheless exist somewhere inside me as a reflection of faith in one God.

A third group fly towards one another, aware of closeness and distance as if on a computer-designed trajectory, finally landing on a tower with an old green bell and a clock that determines the time between past and present, and likewise between birth and death.

Yet all of them remain forever petrified by my touch and become unbreakable, untouchable and inaccessible to the eyes of ordinary mortals who do not know how to love, yet still visible to the feelings of adventurers who wander on the borders of the cosmos accessible to free thoughts liberated from the chains of materialism and cynicism.

20.01.25

Holland Park, London

MEGRAVINE CEMETERY

Raven

Edge between graves and crosses,

A parrot with a green tail in three dimensions on a bare tree disappears in my gaze.

Two white doves with spread wings, side by side, let themselves glide down the wind and join the red sun peeking through the clouds with a small corner of dazzling sky above the Gothic cemetery, where dead souls dance with a flock of illusory birds of paradise that live inside me and are now real up there in the sky.

Right, left, up and down – we all harmoniously merge with the touches of the breeze.

The proud and haughty solitary black raven,

steadfast as a nobleman on the cliffs of the Adriatic coast and islands, without turning to the silence of the moment, dances his final dance on the border between reason and beauty.

11.03.25

Megravine Cemetery

BISHOP’S PARK

The Peace of a Spring Afternoon in the Park

Tiny midges whirl around my head, sunlight pierces through green canopies, the sweet scent of the Thames is in the air, roses have bloomed red, yellow and pink.

Birds chirp and cut through the warm rays, I breathe the spring breeze, fallen leaves caress my skin, restlessness in my chest and around my heart, blood hums, nectar flows through my veins, my cheeks burn from the already tired sun, butterflies in my head give rhymes with their wings, words flutter in the breeze.

Peace is everywhere around me, and in the soul a silence before the storm of restlessness that always follows, while bells harmoniously call to prayer.

13.05.25

Bishop’s Park, London

REGENT’S PARK

Oak

For centuries oaks keep watch,

pillars of time rooted in the bark of eternity.

They observe tender symbiosis:

clouds descend like caresses,

rain kisses the earth,

seeds awaken in the quiet weeping of spring,

young shoots rise,

every fallen leaf becomes breath for the lungs of the soil,

food for beetles carrying sun-filled guts

and for worms that dance through the rings,

breaking channels through the cuts of time

that now sleep a deep sleep beneath the bark.

And my own rings –

perhaps shorter now,

but infinitely longer later,

when I move to where the soul must be forever.

Because perhaps oaks have souls too,

and beetles, and worms that twist in the darkness.

Perhaps they also pass on,

move into new bodies full of feeling and reason,

to some other planet of silk and light,

where the souls of all creatures rest

that were not human

– yet still loved.

21.11.25

Regent’s Park Mosque, London