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Nnaemeka Mokeme Feb 2019
What truths
will you
set free
before you
are set free.
Do you
think you
could actually
discern and
figure this out.
That we
have no
forever because
our heart
will meet
next to never.
I have
fought vehemently
to become
the emissary
of truth
all my life.
It’s a
burden and
a curse
that i
wish no man.
It's a
thankless errand
for only
the called.
The road
within that
leads to
a lonely path.
A road
less travelled.
But what
really is the
actual truth.
Truth it
seems eludes man,
for the
mind of
man is
weak and
not made
up and not
so good.
Even though
the consciousness
of the
mind of
man cannot
be deceived
for man
is born
in soul goodness.
Some of
the acts
of man
are a
and disheartening.
And man
at the
final stage
will find
out that
he is
an exulted
and an
enlightened being.
©2019,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
We were teammates
We suited up
We showed up

We weren't stars
But we rolled in the dirt
With the best of them

Our blood ran red
Like the rest of them

Our sweat tasted salty
As the most athletic of them

Wounds and bruises
Ached like the most
Stalwart of them

We were Bulldogs!
We anted up our
Gifts and talents to
Forge a winning season

A flair for humor
Wry observation,
Encouragement, fortitude
And intelligence were as
Valuable as speed,
Agility and strength

We all pined for the
Affection of cheerleaders,
Bandmembers and the
Adoration of fans

We equally joined
In the chorus of
locker room banter
And honored the
Confidence of camaraderie
Such intimacy bares

We endured thankless
Adversity, while wending
through anonymous toil

As brothers
We grudgingly drank
From the vile cup of defeat

And passed the chalice
Of victory among us
To share the savory
Taste of triumph
As champions

The Duke of Wellington
Said “the battle of Waterloo
Was won on the fields of Eton”

I trust my teammates and
Not forgotten friends
Tasted sweet victories of
Happiness and success
As they coursed through
Their prodigious fields of life

And at games end
I hope their heart swelled
With pride to know they were
A beloved and Valiant Bulldog

David Irving Korsh #75
BCSL Champion 1973
Rutherford Bulldogs

Well done Valiant Bulldog

God bless and Godspeed

Music Selection:
Bruce Springsteen
Thunder Road

the passing of a former teammate
Dike Aduluso Dec 2018
There was once a drought that thundered through the land
It stormed from north to south sparing neither head nor hand
It came on the heels of may, to rob fields of their right
Giving hunger to day then taking respite from night

Sun came and moon thereafter, time and time again
Yet the skies yielded no answer to the outcry of men
‘Cause fortune did reject the farmer’s desperate plea
For sin of thankless neglect towards soil of sower’s glee

Clouds massed in mocking grey, winds whispered hopeful lies
Telling of a better day when we would hear the heavens’ cries
Such was the willful drought that ended harvest’s reign
Starving land of fruitful sprout till Mercy brought the rain

I should say no more of the gloom through days of old
But with words long withheld, tell of that which should be told.
MG Dec 2018
I don't think they know..
How much it hurts to be me.
To haul the cross of others sins.
To be weighed down by the strain of others emotions.
I would rather drown just to keep them breathing.
Feeling like I am sacrificing my own self,
for the painlessness of others.
Never expecting recognition or gratitude,
Or anything else in return.
Maybe just some acknowledgement,
that I'm hurting too.
(maybe even more than you)
the first thing I've wrote about me.
I'm waiting
on the day
when I show up
for work,
and someone
tells me
I'm doing
a good job.
I never
how thankless
this job is,
to everyone
punching the clock
I know
your loss.
JM Romig Apr 2019
Scraping off
The smiling Santa Claus faces
Dim hope fading
With each metallic fleck
Flicked onto the kitchen floor

Yet, she will buy more
Always more
And always the same numbers
On the gas station tickets
She buys with a bag of chips

And gas-station humus
With gas-station pop,
In a gas-station cup -
Too large to hold in one hand -
That she fills to the brim

With hope
She never lets herself
Get to empty
She fills her soul with
Perpetual certainty
That one day, she’s gotta win
She’s just gotta

So she plays the game
Plays the odds
Fills her cup
Fills up her tank

Drives to two, three, four
Thankless jobs
And never lets her soul
Get to empty

She’s just gotta win
Fate has gotta give in
To her sheer ambition,

She knows it in her bones
Maybe not this time,
or next time
…or the time after

But soon
…definitely soon
Dedicated to my Mother In Law
Yenson Dec 2019
Dud snowflakes fall in haha amusement

same ole same ole echos from frozen cadavers

an ermine clad prince surveys the dregs and the wets

the seasonal drips and drabs of the famished serfs and robins

snow covered minds in arid white snow-scape idled in blankness

the sentries  all occupied in their thankless duties in lowly stations

blowing hot air and composing dirges for their future-less imaginings

in puddles of slosh and **** ermine boots renounce gawking toe-rags

the belligerent squawkings of serfs an kin merely brings them scurvy

its a same ole same ole echos from minds frozen cadavers

falling in haha amusement
Michael Marchese Nov 2019
Relief is a rare
All too scarce
Food source here
When it’s clear
I can simply say no
And refrain
From more deigning
To bend over
In vain
All I gain
Is a thankless
And bankless crusade
And as much as it shames me,
Still going unpaid
Is becoming each zero sum
Dollar a day
An astray-
Course diverting
Me back to the grave
Like a masterless slave,
An unbidden submissive,
An outspoken critic
With no one to listen
To facts and statistics
Concise explications
Disowning the system
I can’t wait
To be free of this place
And be rid
Of the service
I still think
I owe to these kids
Who don’t give
Half a shred
Of the ****
That they live in
If I live or die
Or reply to the piddling
Remarks as I try
To remember alive
Not just how to survive
On this sustenance pittance
Somehow they can thrive
I just work
At this no-purpose
Circus deprived
Of a ring leader,
Just a few teachers
And creatures
All acting like
Shows must go on
When the bleachers
Of a care or concern
Like the clown
Who can’t seem
To turn frowns
Upside down
Derrek Faraday Oct 2018
Here I find myself
In a semblance of an assembly
A spineless lizard
Lazing with a sheet
He tells me sweet acrimonies
About balancing his shelves
Appoints himself a wizard
Over anybody else

Tells me of obligations
Within a life on parole
Upholds his occupation
In an insulated hole
Bestows us something he don’t hold
And demands we give it back
Sanctifies the mold
That is soon to shape our tracks

Hollow hands for thankless kings
That pull no gratitude
He wears a tune he doesn’t sing
Dares to worry of our food
He patronizes a choir
He grasps the open sea
And says “I have the fist of salt
That will lead to unity”

Coddles us like Cain
Treats this brick like a stable
Life doesn’t drive in lanes
Elastic minds are able
If you’ve gone to deride us
You wear it on your form
Don’t brave an iron suit
You don our skin, Norm

You read your your books on nature
You’re bred to expect rain
Yet waste a breath to nurture
Some other person’s reigns
Dread a life that keeps you well-
Beholden to the rule:
That life is tethered to a bell
Engulfed in packless mules

— The End —