UDEME RALPH

                                                            Gone are the good ancient days when the world was peaceful and men were like angels. When pure souls still died in the cross for the sake of filthy millions. Who would stoop that low today? Those were the days of obedience, and of submission, when God was God indeed in the eyes of all. The climate, then, was still full of life; and we went about business, led by the light cast on our paths by ancient peoples. Those were the days of law and order, when justice had not taken up the cloak of injustice.       Men with seemingly higher minds strangled the order. They stepped on sacred grounds; they wrote books, and led many astray. Marx, ...

Age of Madness I’ve seen An eclipse of the stars A sky full of scars Madness born and nursed Chaos ruling over all Glistening blades and riffles Raised unto the heavens By men of faith and spirit, Empty earthlings daily seeking Things never known or seen Pursuing with great zeal The false and the unreal. I’ve seen, Madness in another form Books upon books, Aphorisms and thoughts Esoteric creeds and nonsense New forms of cosmic wreckage Thinkers thinking us into decay Writers writing us out of the way, Leaders and common people Tearing the climate into pieces Animals are bad, But humans are worse We make guns and bombs To bring our species back to  dust Policies and laws Daily draw world Into wars and chaos.

Trouble stares us in the face. The whole world is in shambles. Humanity is on the brink of a great, terrible fall.  I’m starring at the darkening cloud beyond my window, thinking about the decay that has hit the world. It’s not far away, on some TV channels or on the crinkly pages of newspapers. The decay is right here, few yards across the street. I watch with dismay the events that have become the order of the day: nude ladies moving about shamelessly, breasts bouncing in the air. My eyes settle on two women, sauntering along the street, lips contorted seductively, as though the street was not already flooded with debauchery. With the way their hands are knitted, it’s clear what they are: a couple. Their nakedness does not bother them; it bothers no one. It is the height of fashion, nowadays. Clothes of all kinds are becoming obsolete. These women remind me of hominids and apes; perhaps, humankind is returning to its early beginnings. Their skins are laden with inks. Tatto...

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.