When I was younger, after the night prayers were said, I would sneak outside my room to visit the moon, I would stand barefooted at the back of my house, heads high, staring at the moon with an optical maser focus, the stars never distracted me. There, staring at the moon, I would mutter words, I can never recall or remember; for each time I reached out for a pen and a paper, the words slipped away from my head, pouring into the earth. the words were never meant to be written. So I learned to listen and to see. After many years, I started to hear a call, I understood what it was saying, but I couldn't explain it, I did all I could to escape but I couldn't, It needed an answer."Poemed" is the answer to that call I dreaded, a call I never wanted to heed. My replies come in twelves, and are divided into twelve books; birthing a total of one hundred and forty-four poems soaked with messages about life, death, food, racism, love, hatred, and all in-between. This book, Primum Tempus is the first part.