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Magic Myth & Memory

from Nhojj Poetry Vol. 2 by Nhojj



As a child, I started asking questions my father's sermons didn’t or couldn’t answer. So as an adult, I began exploring alternate spiritual thought and practices. It wasn’t easy. The sermons may not have resonated with me, but they sure enough stayed with me.

So many religions believe they possess a monopoly on God... that all other paths lead to eternal ruin. This poem examines that fear gripping moment in the mystical/metaphysical section of an independent bookstore.

The simple act of taking a book off a shelf required all the focus and determination I could muster. I was conscious of that moment... that deliberate decision to explore and not be afraid of new words and ideas.


I am standing
In a bookstore
Somewhere on broadway
A few blocks from NYU. I’ve been
Racking my brain but I can’t remember
This store’s name, but then, I can’t remember
Most names. Even ones I’ve just seen or heard.

On the other hand
Ideas stick to me like static cling

It is sometime in 2004 and
I am here to explore…

The Da Vinci Code has taken the world by storm. I am apart of the world, but I seldom get caught up in the winds of pop culture. I see storms approaching and I burrow underground where it’s quiet and peaceful and calm and quiet.

But this storm of alternate histories and gnosis has caught me by surprise. This morning a cyclone lifted me out of my bed with such speed, I felt unrest in the pit of my stomach. Gale winds whirled me around faster and faster causing my senses to blur. I was sucked into a hurricane that catapulted me over roof tops, apartment complexes and cathedrals. Lightening flashes jolted my eyes out of their sockets, while thunder exploded in my ears. I could feel my heartbeat racing as I pelted over high schools, colleges and universities, precipitation forming like cold sweat all around me, as I hurled towards glass doors, fear rising in my mouth…

All is quiet. All is calm. The nerdy looking cashier standing behind his post looks up at me… a silent greeting. It’s almost like I’d walked in here… either that or I am in the eye of the storm…

I’ve been here before. I’ve walked through these glass doors many times to enter this little enclave. I visit here because it is quiet and peaceful and calm and I usually stay on the first floor flipping through books.

I like books… all kinds of books. Books with pictures. Books with words. Books with pictures and words. Hardcover books. Softcover books. Out of print books. Just released books. Rare books. Popular books. Large books. Small books. Thin books. Thick books. Display books. Books standing up. Books lying down. Books staked side by side. Books staked one on top of the other. Books, books and more books. This is a tiny world full of books and quiet.

But today I’m not here to casually flip through books. Today I’m here to explore the mysterious, the strange and the fantastic. There is a basement in this bookstore, a basement chocked full of books in which these very ideas coexist.

Now I descend the narrow staircase
Rows of books gaze at me…
Esoteric books
Magic books
Occult books
New age books
New Thought books

I stare back. Fingers itching. Ready to explore. But. Mind still caged. Remembering sermons. Preached from pulpits. Not by me. By my father. A congregation praying for lost souls.

These. Are the books. My young eyes. Were forbidden to see…

The devil is supposed to reside in these pages. In this confluence of words… in these ideas.

I stand at the crossroads of memory, myth and magic
Which road to take?

A mountain of myths…
A history of child’s play
Who knows what fairytales lay scattered on this floor
Broken and mixed up
Waiting to be sorted out
Waiting to be glued together
What piece goes here?

I choose magic
Fingers touch pages
Mouth silently utters
Letters form words
Spell and conjure
Revelations and explanations
Explaining the unexplainable
Peaking behind Her veil to reveal
She who can never be fully revealed
Or understood by human minds
Even as
She dances all
Around us every night from
Twilight to
Even gazing at us now
From flowers and breeze and mirrors…

God is


from Nhojj Poetry Vol. 2, track released January 13, 2018
Written & performed by Nhojj
Contains sample of "Tread Softly" by Nhojj


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Nhojj Orlando, Florida

Singer/songwriter and poet wading through the rivers of R&B, soul, jazz, and reggae.

My intention is to create sonic spaces where you can experience yourself through the lens of love and acceptance.

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