UDEME RALPH

By the grave of Dan, Duke and Don We stand and stare and mourn And recall the tale of the loss Of our dear illustrious sons Who died in the hands Of three hideous devils,   With faces like that of angels. The first wicked beast, Bore the name Sex, And went to Dan as a sweet Gentle evening breeze, He left him with a gift: A harmless longing for skirts, That landed dear Dan in the hands Of dirty, despicable lasses, Until he got sick and thin And drew his last breathe. The Second monster Whose name was Money Visited Don in his needy moments, And turned him into a monument A hunter of silver and diamond. Whose only goal was gold In whose eyes, God, and laws Had neither weight nor form He gambled away his soul Betted away his dear life. Worked himself to stupor Ventured into every venture, Started as a coin-hungry hustler And ended as a roadside robber. The last devil, Was no devil at all In Duke’s youthful ...

I saw light and darkness Strolling side by side on a dimly lit narrow path Holding hands, Laughing and crying together I looked and looked again Then I got mad, Peeved and perplexed at such an unholy blend of night and day Then came an old man, A wrinkled wise chap, "What ails you?" he asked, And I told him my tale, and showed him the twain. But he chuckled and laughed And said all was well, But, I argued, it isn't so, That this is not taught In the big sacred scrolls of Good and evil, and of right and wrong.  He laughed still, And bid me to hold my peace For in books and in schools And from the eyes of blinds gurus Day and night are miles apart Good and evil stand afar But in reality, the tale is different For the two are never at war And the two are but one, Only differently dressed Only differently named. (c) Udeme Ralph, 2018