Babylon

And ever since, Babylon is biting the dust,

We gather for dust to dust

Glory, glory, glory has been our song

Even from dusk till dawn

Left to crumbled pieces of glory forgone

History beckons

Praise for the valiant Knight’s valour

Finally, that terrible city is reduced to bare memory

A mighty space signifying hope forlorn

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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! ***

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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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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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Rich Is Bond!

I must be rich,
You must be rich,
We must be rich.
Why?
Our rich is bond!

The apogee height,
We’d go beyond,
Place we can’t hide.
Why?
Our rich is bond!

The higher we go,
More choosy we’d be,
Not with loved ones tho’.
Why?
Our rich is bond!

All our labors,
(that’s if we labored),
Shall turn to favors.
Why?
Our rich is bond!

You see all sort and all kinds,
Of Well-to-do people,
In company of their kind(s).
Why?
Our rich is bond!

You see poor fellas,
Bonding and moving,
With other poor fellas.
Why?
Our rich is bond!