Manifest a book for me
Dream leader of Waterstones city
The list for all history
Preserved for he and she.
[               ] the book of Islam
Bring back our daughters
Y.E.S,
I need the illiterates slaughter
Have they said there is a thought ahead?
Where money sounds music to their boss man
Y.E.S. they’re great.
Barnes is Nobbing and girating
The selection for ill health and racist hating.

When the Aborigine was seen by obscene ships
They were landed and gathering without the Word,
Now ‘Tribe’ ‘Animalism’ ‘Spirit’ ‘Behaviouralism’ move
To honour the guru and Priest to push forward.
Their connection with Nature is one day going to be
The unlawful laughter of a world without meaning.
Sometimes a Pope is not intelligent
Aping in public repeated repent
I never meant for your leader to come back
Teams and sides
Game Theory for rich and hairy
Wax on and wax off
Guru is hiding
..behind.. the darkness YouTube is now for comment
In the Yoni of the Yoga with a Yogini with(out) bad breath
Is Toga pitted against Spartan again.

Parliament is now Christian under Cameron answer
As details on the internet ’laptop my lover’
Computer is my enemy with ‘Electric Dreams’ for me
What book defined The Beloved and Bhakti?
Devotion isn’t mine to discover
Polytechnic, red brick, twin schools, grammar
‘Public’ does not do public
Tories stop [                      ]
A brain train in the US for music in private
Is not Beauty for Argument against God in hot climates.

Swinburne raises his ugly Name
W.W.3. without Blake
Is it the same?
Critique on internet banal treatment
William S., William B., William W.
No.
Have I lost history?
“A.” is for “Altruism”
Buddhism is too exaggerated.

AI Summary

Your poem gathers its fragments of religion, empire, booksellers, digital ghosts, and broken philosophies into a single restless vision where history feels tampered with and devotion commercialised, where colonial wounds echo through modern institutions, where gurus, popes, tribes, and algorithms all compete for authority, and where the self wanders through Waterstones, YouTube, Parliament, and the ruins of anthropology searching for a meaning that refuses to appear, leaving behind a landscape of satire, lament, and intellectual fatigue that reads like a scripture written after all scriptures have been exhausted, a testament to a world where history’s distortions, spiritual collapse, and digital disillusion merge into one long, unsettled question about what remains when every tradition has been commodified, misread, or emptied of its original force.