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Jolomi Amuka

Last Time

Yesterday you saw the last of me,
Today you awake a beast.
For in these times,
Beauty, wealth, love and fear,
Are moby to human intentions.
Hence, I commence on a feral-like junket.

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Africa

5years and a couple thousand miles a away,
Africa the continent for which my heartbeats.
Like lover's separated by misunderstanding,
I'l see you soon,
But not too soon.
When we mature, when we forgive,
When we forget, what we both did,
When we transcend unholy deeds,
I'll see you then and only then.

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Toast.

Shall I make a toast?
To my towering achievements, accolades and prestige,
Shan't I be allowed a boast?
For I must have a reason to carouse this grand soiree,
A milestone worth more than lag-est expeditions.
November tenth.
The day I hope to love, but yesterday I cursed.
The day I've grown to hate,
But today, the day, for a change
I awake in faith…
That today will be a good day.
To one good day.
Cheers.
Salute.

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Ruse

Miffed dog, puking at his owner's feet,
Forced to wax tiles with fresh spit,
Mocked by cats, he swears to never react;
Till the time's right,
Till the night casts laughing shadows on eidolic studs,
Till malkin parts get stuffed in a box,
Waiting to get lit up;
Until then, he lingers, he lulls.
Barks and Meows are beginning to sound the same to me,
The cat feed,
The dog eats what's left,
With,
Tail dancing,
I run around in circles finding my lost, best, friend.

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Note To Self

I found your earring on my bedroom floor,
The only thing that proves you were once here before;
It's funny how absterging it has become my favorite chore.
I don't just think of you anymore,
It's more like reenacted vagary scenes from our lives.
12 shots of Jameson should take me there,
Beyond fear.
More drunk than Keith moon,
I'll see you soon, very soon, you said.
It's been 3 years,6 months and 7 days instead.
If you and I ended with you and I,
Then I guess we are dead.

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Undertaker

Like wild tigers stuck on desert land,
With corroded claws we blueprint a clan.
Our salty tears rain on holy sands, Igniting
A corybantic pac of aroused cats
That feed on wolves, yet feed hungry mice.
A Chatur score encoded by vivid barbarian minds, with eagel eyes.
Fear not? Together we fear none.
And in this Elysian feild of faith,
We blitzkrieg the city like a diabolic plague.
Ravaging one man at a time,
Till all that's left are bite marks,
And hemorrhaging scars that will liberate mankind.


11/15/12. Hollywood California.

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Nothing To Say

Too much weed, No alcohol,
Too many skunks in my back yard,
They smoke dreams, buy fancy cars,
Pilfering self-esteem to lose who you are.
Hollywood dark, no stars in sight,
Shots of rain, on my brick wall,
No weak spots, just a big fall.
On empty streets we find who we are,
We rise to fall, to rise and fall,
With shadows so sharp like troubled saul,
Buying the harp for david's song.
Roaring applauds on a broadway stage,
Obstreperous calls to change a page,
Your lungs pierced with silver thorns, but on your breathe I smell roses.

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Hydrate or Die?

Hydrate or Die,
Stay strong or cry,
What is this I see before me,
18 christmas trees with one decorated and systematical placed in my lobby.
What use is bravery, if all my soliders die in an instance,
My day dreams are grey,
They are slightly faded,
Focused on nothing but getting wasted.
The highway is lonely, and in her fast, sad arms,
I submit my worries, while she kisses me softly.
My nights are endless and my streets are cold,
Being young just feels like getting old,
A flagrant crime covered by wants and needs,
Till your want grows deep, but your needs harvest weeds.

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Break

Wake me up, angelic skulls,
Tase my zestless disposition.
Bruise me.
Clutch my bleeding heart in your eager
Hands and keep it forever.
Close my eyes with your wings,
Make me feel at ease.
Whispering trees on shimmering eves,
Wasted dreams on barren beds,
Bruise me please.
Collect my universe of tears,
Sparking diamonds in your abyss of darkness
Cover my eyes and help me escape.
Chain me within your eyes,
Take me now, or awake me,
For as doth, you doth, you don't,
My griming face will turn wroth.
Nothing more mediocre than an actor's tears on a globe stage.
Bruise me please, until I bleed.

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Cockcrow

Like today, not tomorrow,
In the farmer's grove on tuesday last.
When choices kill naive mice,
And whiskey drops soothe troubled minds.
When snippers loose their narrow aim,
And bullets heal wounded hearts,
Then will I say yes.

When stars loose beams,
When oceans stop their gliding waves,
When earrings etiolate in color,
And angel voices squeak in thundering resound,
Then will I say yes, Yes.

But no. Not if you keep dealing sore hands,
No, I say,
Not even if you kill big ben.

For in these times the world seeks a snigger,
A human element as chief as zephyr.

[...] Read more

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