The call of the wild
The logic-faith dilemma
I wanted secret thrusts,
savagely wolfing my strength,
pulling sea-like droplets
with promises of soft notes;
perfect identicals despite aperture.
Yet, my lips wouldn’t play,
birth the con I knew
incubated in my mind.
in rhythm and phantom realities;
the con’s preferred dance.
My body was crazy fertile,
savannah perfect,
with marked burns;
beautifully awaiting tourists,
tourists that never came.
The neon light is no friend,
foe indeed, worst yet;
brandishing pieces of desires
steeped in sweetest lotions and spice,
forcing dreams that haunt.
Now, curves and bashes hunt,
my days in golden kisses
and night in detail-perfect visions;
fragments of my truth,
or what it should be.
My reality is a broken whole,
not in grace or splendour.
Not with this;
like a trained beast, trapped
self, society, confession.
Never can I spill my heart,
not as a trapped mind;
the logic-faith dilemma,
fearing the first stride
though yonder desperately calls.
So I scribble on, truths, mine;
the dark of night
buried beneath illusions.
I’m ready to leave, yet not
for alone is naked, vulnerable.
Ngang God'swill N. 2020
