We choose white to paint peace
Like black, to spur strength
A joyous daily dying sleep
And a waking resurrection
On a living bed of cushioned bier
Speed of light is ever known.
In fast approaching darkness,
In the wake of departing light.
Shadow reaches toward light
To belie his speed twice
Luminescence in many names
According to succeeding times.
Dusk or dawn is little light
Within a simple dearth of light.
One hate explains wistfully
A different distant dying love
As present presence presents
A present absence afar.
Devil at Night
Saints are no ghosts… Angels among men
Wearing his day’s mask… This pesky priest
Adorns a corner post… In the day all around
He outshines the sun… In holistic errands
Till that flurry holiness… Sets along with the sun
Bungle! Like an eclipse… The saint becomes ghost
Existent, yet invisible… Suiting himself in freedom
Wearing ordinary black… He dinners with the Devil
At hell-daring brink… One hand holding drink
A good toast to clink… In the spirit of liquor
He passes his nightlife… He misses his Heaven
I never ask, yet like to know.
Where stray bullets lodge
in the flesh of innocent sky
from unruly gunpoint?
I never ask, yet want to know.
Why seeds of lies grow trees
that don’t bear fruits
but seeds of future lies?
I never ask, yet long to know.
Why raptorial hawk
preys on innocent dove
even when they’re both birds?
I never ask, yet die to know.
Why fear sweat
differs from blush
yet both embarrass?
Mazhun Idris is a Nigerian bilingual author, multimedia content writer and freelance translator. He presently has one short story book to his name and a number of poetry lines published across print and online media. His most recent work appeared in Sentinel Literary Quarterly.
A pan-African writers' collective and publisher