Posthumous 56th

Not like I’ve been dodging,
I’ve been working
And I was bugging
On many lonely winter nights,
Looking for ways to make you happy.

Trying to make you proud

Ever since you were gone
That’s been the summum bonum of my life.


I bargained with Life… by Jessie B. Rittenhouse

*** This particular poem was quoted in ipsissima verba by Napoleon Hill in his bestselling book, ‘Think and grow rich.’ I, in particular, after poring through the lines continuously, have grown to fall in love with this wonderful poem. May God bless the soul of Jessie Belle Rittenhouse for leaving this great piece behind. I thought of sharing it with my readers, especially those who haven’t read Napoleon Hill’s book or heard of Jessie B. before now.
Enjoy! ***


I bargained with Life for a penny,
And Life would pay no more,
However I begged at evening
When I counted my scanty store;

For Life is just an employer,
He gives you what you ask,
But once you have set the wages,
Why, you must bear the task.

I worked for a menial’s hire,
Only to learn, dismayed,
That any wage I had asked of Life,
Life would have paid.


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The wild, wild West

*Dedicated to my childhood neighborhood, sometimes miss the people. Great people.
*Inspired by a NatGeo documentary.

Growing up among the dying breed
My step-brother I miss him
May the Lord forgive him, all he wanted was to live life
Where I grew up, death is a substance of a new life
Childbirth is celebrated like Christmas, death mourned like death
Like the ravens in the wild we fend for ourselves
We break the rules for our loved ones
It’s a place where nature can’t be heard
When one dies another continues to thrive
Chaos, mayhem, mob, marauders…
There’s no street tougher than ours
We reveled in the obstreperous state
The birds chirp and the dogs bark off
I know no better place to be than the West

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When will I be free?

The more money I make, the more I want
The more I increase the more I count
Numbers keep piling, so is my greed
Numbers never end, numbers never lie
Anything in numbers could be uncountable
My love for material things have become insatiable
My lust and thirst, unquenchable
When will man ever rest?
I want my paradise here on earth
When will I be free?
I don’t know what I really want
‘Cos the more I get, the more I still want
When will wars end?
‘Cos it doesn’t look like there’s an end
Even though we have a new president
Yesterday, Boko Haram shot ten in North-end
My pastor said the following in church today;
“I’m here to speak sense to your senses,
that’s the essence of my existence.”
And what did he say thereafter?
Poverty is dangerous, make money
If only he knew what love of money did to men
Men have turned to beasts
No love for their fellow men
The battle I fight within me
It is bigger than those on Chicago streets
I’m weary from these toils
When will I ever be free?

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The wounded beast

Pushing and groaning
Crying and wailing
Running and panting
Amidst confusion and struggling
Amidst frustration and great pain
Unlike the case with T-pain
He tries harder, harder, harder
Deep breaths and sighs going louder
They drum it into his hears everytime
He gasps for breath
The tiny life is out
The large heart sapped out
Hold on, he has died before only to wake up
He would be back

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M.A.P. Jones

***Dedicated to life & a very special lady who became my friend in the most unlikeliest of ways.

Dear M.A.P. Jones
My life is a miracle
Well, come join me at the pinnacle

You’re the Asian cinnamon
A rare spice, blossoming every season
To love you, I need no reason.

Happy to have you as my baby…!
You’re worthy of life milady
Without you there’s no light

My one and only M.A.P Jones
I love you, I chose you
I’d never offer you stones

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The Good Life

Dedicated to all dreamers like me. Thanks for reading.

Tho’ things are currently hard
And life too difficult
I see hope, a bright future
I see the good life
Things will change for good in the nearest future

Tho’ I go to sleep tonight
With no hope or expectation for today
I’d bask in the euphoria of tomorrow
I see the good life
Things will change for good tomorrow

Tho’ everything looks gloomy
As if I should commit suicide
Even my family turning against me
I see the good life
When they can no more stop me

Tho’ my credits are all red
I can’t sleep at night ‘cos my creditors cometh
But being alive means there’s hope
I see that good life
Of glory, there’s hope

I’d go and prepare for my chance cometh
A great man said so
The quintessential Abraham Lincoln
I see the good life
I would still buy that Lincoln

Tho’ man dies broken at night
(For who knows what happens after sleeping at night?)
He wakes up whole in the morning
I see the good life
I wake up with new hope every morning.

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