Zoid Hæm

Notes from a Black sun:

Some of us were there
We saw it, we felt it, we experienced it.
And knowing it grew from mud and blood
We unwilling witnesses of a miracle
Still question the origins of that magical moment— if it truly is, or if one’s mind dreamt it?

It is the artist who make us fail to see the difference. It is the artist who knows, there is no difference.

So If I may cast a frame
And quilt the void with a pixel of light
Upon that unfolding plane
I breathe our story to life.
Reality, that most popular dream,
The photons medium of choice,
For the artist, what is real becomes a quest
Into images yet born of voice.

Thus upon this road I lay long
Hoping I find my song
Among the hum’s
of Harlem’s strong.

A.D. (Artist’s Diary) 5.6.2026

#photography #poetry #zoidham