UDEME RALPH

No God, no laws No scheme or order Demons or angels Just science and art And witty thoughts From wise, bearded oldies. No truth, no precision No sacred creeds to relish, Or revelations to believe Just flickering facts Flowing with the tides Ever changing, never stable. No God, no saviours No boons for my labours Just me in a dying world, Going round praying in vain, Just me, all by myself, Life fashioned for the grave My skulls for termite’s games No heaven, no hell No other world but this, This dying earth, This fading speck In the boundless heart of space Miserable man, tossed by fate Alive as brutes and birds A wretch, a dung: poor me! Better dead than to live In a world so sick and grim Better never to have been Than to be and see all these. Better to be nothing Than to be human. 

To the wars and strife and all the maladies of life Love is the way the narrow path the strait gate the last resort to be sought Love lies in the heart. It is close, it rests on our palms runs in our veins waiting to be unveiled It's not in countries not gone or in worlds unseen Not a virtue to seek or a gem in a lost world It's here, daily beckoning on us, on humankind It cries, and wails ceaseless to see these bombs all gone, to draw us to our senses.

         The word “eternity” invokes in the mind a sense of awe and eeriness. Consequently, some people have consigned the concept to the realm of the transcendent, the religious, and the superstitious. But, is “eternity” such a distant idea, reserved only for the superman? That does not seem to be the case. On the contrary, eternity is not as transcendent as we make it seem. Each day, we interact with eternity; we engage and exist in eternal dimensions, without even knowing. We behold eternity every moment of our lives and call it another name. We may find no clue, nothing corporeal enough to point us to the direction of eternity: everything everywhere appears transient and subjected to the laws of wear and tear. But appearance is one thing and reality is another. In reality, we are surrounded with eternities—not merely with theories and concepts of eternity but with eternity itself.    What then is eternity? A simple, single definition wil...

         “As you say,” Gordon said. “I feel we need to make good use of this opportunity, however, for none of us ever believed that we would be allowed into your abode. We feel honored to sit before you this day. Please, if there is a mystery we must first unveil, it is you. Tell us more about yourself. The last time some visiting emperors inquired from me useful information about you, I was dumbfounded. Was Tamac truly your father? Had you an encounter with supernatural powers when you were but twenty four years of age? Did you receive a vision from God to relocate to this place? Please, we want to hear these things from your own mouth.”      “Questions upon questions. But these are the last sort that I expected from you today. Still, I will provide answers. You know me as Theophilus Tamac, a once philosophical man who was made insane by inexplicable realities. Yes, I know that is how you see it. And yes, my name is Theophilus Tamac, but...

It comes at dawn, And grows with the sun, It laughs and sprawls And walks from court to court Jack of all trade, master of none Passing, emitting dread and gloom Dancing to unheard cosmic tunes Until its pride falls at noon For a while it staggers about, To east, west, north and south, Until at last eastward it crawls Beating its bearers’ little feats Straddling nations and tongues Ruling the woods with its murk Obstinate, lawless, and weird, Through thorns and thistles wades A mystery lying upon the ground A voiceless confounder of throngs Today a man, tomorrow a brute This hour by Bethsaida’s Pool Inert, static, drained of strength A moment passes, at byways of haste The day quickly fades and glories wane, And the dark man dies away to rise again.