Noir Sur Blanc Poem by Jolomi Amuka

Tusk at dusk,
Ash created by dust,
Undertaker, undertake this deed,
This grave digging enterprise entices me.
I want to know,
Is illogicality truly a realm for gods?
Heed me this fantasy of dark, sandy kings.

Nursery rhymes arousing faded memory.
Remember me?
Your best, first best friend;
A tremendous nightmare,
You see, what I see,
Hence all you see is me?

I am he,
The angelic demon within,
A paradox or an enigma,
I lay my eggs when you fast asleep,
And sometimes visit when we get bored.

By and by our paths were sketched by aged seas,
Picturesque windy streets.
O,
Forgive me,
These thoughts exceed me.
Your vivid bark, my constant wake,
A blind man's hymn, am I?
A serf desire? I am.
That is all I ever was, and forever will be,
Do yourself a favor, and leave me be.