Drawn
Attracted from the death
Noting the negative breath
Something is better than nothing. Again.
The dream of something bigger than my life
Wife, House, Car and criticism
The Isness and the Isms
Forgetful of the right way around the same route I took yesterday.
Things about Heaven to lead me onwards,
Bardos of becoming where light is unmerciful,
Merciful light
Say something right
The ultraviolet rays light my way.
Author: rrishi99
Little Intellectual Boy Lost
Why do I see the things that I do?
Little things and big things deranging my vision through and through
Buddhafield electrifying the Boogaloo
Stumbling blocks to my learning
Late night travelling home from Nasser Uncle’s house, far outside of Birmingham
Sending my brother some love as we don’t fight about the roller skates
Debating the culture
A couple of legal vultures
Parents from antiquity
Fish and Chips from the Chippy
Star games on the arcade machine while they talk to the owner they know
Met the daughter some decades later, walking around Harborne
That’s not Walthamstow
Round and around from a Junior School game of Rounders
Flounder from the Little Mermaid
The black High School shut down of Home Invasions
The Propaganda models are the State of the Nation
And Rees Mogg is debutant on the high school stage
Selling us faux pas rage as the dancers play in the cages
The vaginas are talking alone again
The monologues are long and longing for me
I am the pauper celebrity
The fish in the ocean
The oxen on the lawn
Something like a cosmic consciousness to pawn
{Paw Paw Bear}
…
//
It was all there
When me and my brother played
Stay
A database in the cities of Angels
Aware of Nicholas Cages angles
Annoyed with Meg Ryan for trying
Lying and lying about the rage
Settling up with planes what man can’t know on the ground
Sealing the deal with furies when the poor man can’t be found
So down played
Soppy and played out
Singing in the showers
Alone for hours and hours
A passionate man
A flower loving member of a men’s group clan
Shouting in his own way about shanty towns
Blowing the wind when the Pakistani chants down the runway for a 100 mph bowl in an over at The Oval
What’s square about Waqar and Wasim now?
Not expanding and contracting consciousness
But expanding and explaining the world.
Two daughters in other guises
Spending what money they could find from parents who were kind
A bus driver and a lover’s son
Someone who made Jalandhar number one
Against all odds and murderous affairs
Stolen inheritance and plans for dancers everywhere
Looting London and Central School of Speech and Drama
Turing it into the Centred School for Trolls of Peace and Sharma’s Dharma
So the bug could be planted in PC World for the frigging girls to find when the owned the world
Loss of Schools
Forests for the fools
Shooting arrows in Warwick Castle as ascended actors well versed in Ritesh’s karmic affair…
Neet Mohan was everywhere
Instagram did not make sense
Julia Roberts listened to Jeremiah Blues
The Priests tried standing on their heads as a corpulent defence
Spending the Royal Crown
Keeping poor people down
Free Yoga Classes on the NHS
Something for the Pension Pot I think and I think your evolution makes no sense
- Teacher Mr Psychiatrists of things in foreign lands
- Breast wished Madhuri Dixit for legs akimbo in Aishwarya Rai’s Bachchan land
- 1980-2020 doesn’t look so expensive now
- Let’s lets
- Do you think?…
- Nurses worry about Slander now…
- 1990 Israel
- 2000s Iran
- Ahmedinajad at the UN
- Prince Charles does not let us eat Paan
- (William is trying to act at the UN like James Caan)
… and no Doctor
You Can See Him
Though the measure is not rhythm
The measured is seething division
This is the way of the too soon thinking
Men were drinking
Soldiers were in divisions too
The platoons were Vietnamese too soon
We don’t like Tom Berenger!
We rather like that erratic other fellow
He smoked the pipe and let the rascals read what they wanted
Then he ran the gauntlet and moved on to other songs
Playing it long
Stretching it out like some swan
Diving into a lake of piss and acid
Where the thanks from the Drs was the same
Unsupported artistic lives and loves from the U.S. President
Things he knew too well to survive
The tempestuous seas of the best travelled man
Who had to buy toys for his children when he got home
Instead of raving with Willie Nelson and Woody Harelson
Displaced lunatics far away from the fat crowd
Mad with joy and freedom from feelings
:: Who ate John Candy?
Why can’t we narrate Planes, Trains and Automobiles for Trump v Biden 2024
De Santis is a praying mantis
For Mantarray in my Debenhams display
And where those currents have gone
Too many songs for the blondes
And something more menacing from the electric guitar fans
Who distrust the demons downplaying the Sita concerts
Raving away in Mumbai 90210
Where the women like the women who blow their fortunes
Reminiscing too soon about the peanuts on the floor at Woodstock
Not cleaned up by volunteers…
Someone steer this ship towards the East
Where Jesus belongs
And where he was born.
Something less intense than a Scorpio’s SAWM
And the non option of fasting in the NHS places
Nurses all over the place and no sportsmen
Olympics look like being off again
Charles wants to check his cheekbones.
Dancing cheek to cheek again
Europe is vain
The military will be wearing dresses at this rate
Those fees charged by Trump for NATO
Will be Yoga postures all too soon
When the newspapers know what not to do
And what stories what not to write
Splitting infinitives tightly
Keeping the phone lines open for Keira Knightley’s place at Ladakah with His Holiness
Only 80 years old compared to Royal Queens
Defaming scenes
Legalease
Who was the Terrorist for Noam’s army and his sold out Israeli affair
When someone was tested sexually and let them push him about to horse shows and bad evil trades everywhere.
Somewhere, one day, a man will arise
A leader well read of all the British books.
He will eat cake and drink tea at the right pace
For £4 a coffee in some racial placements
Prince Charles at Davison’s Solicitors
Taxing Fact Checking
Why Should I Cry For You?
Censor your own cock blue – we don’t roll stones down cannabis places with white skinheads in BNP shit skeggy Weoley Castle places.
Then will
Leadership
Cavalier
The Thundercats vs Dungeons and Dragons ex parte Regina
You thought it was all about you
Jasper Carrot’s crew and those sexy adverts in the 1990s
Something is following me
Someone set me free from Ken Wilber’s memes
Only one voice left to project America to me
Colonialism World War Three
Vibrations from Andrew Cohen’s waistcoat #IWillWriteAboutYouWhenIAm92
Why did you wear a blue shirt?
Was it the one from West Midlands Travel for the bus drivers who hurt
And we test in their bedrooms and small houses too
For Nirbana with Buddha as Roger Ellory is Black and Blue
No American contract for you!
They said they will wait –
They said they will publish my books too –
What is a US President to do?
No enjoyment sitting on the can having a poo
Reading last generations’ Playboy
Without Aishwarya riding horse model hobbying those Indian pooey men
Who think they know my comparative religion strain
Looking for themselves in my brain
Thinking outside the box
Charitable CEOs from Silicone Valley like the fuck off election from Prince Charles soon to be disappeared
mum..
Reading the Bahagavd Gita was fun!
Just see their states
On DWP rates
For more from history books they will write
Tying up Neena Altaf’s contact tight with Shameel Danish
What’s a matter Doc? Are my cigarettes that I gave up making your breath tight?
Don’t you know why your sales and purchases make White Man so whit
When he tries to bank in London town
Where you cried and I did not that your mum was ugly and brown
With white hair and not some Gora wedding to please your boss
Not fucking Sapra was her fucking loss!
Angry poetry at Elim Church
Not confined to my house for Adams Family values and Lurch
Prostitutes in Aldi for Portitia’s family karma
Michele Pfeiffer modelled in Rubery Great Park for Heather Graham’s midnight phone calls with light working and talking in tongues with Keir Starmer.
Whoever wins the next election is up for grabs
Something for the fat kid from school on GBN News, methinks
… how do you raise a 75 year old King, without a career
Presence from Eckhart Tolle for all the worlds sum of all fears
#NobelPeacePrizetoKingCharlesfromBarackObamaforthis
Why do you hate?
If you hate so bad your cock will hurt
For the worth of a Christian in an imagined bubble
While the Muslim awaits his silence about masturbation
With Christine Holz in White Teeth and some nigger cousins
Next to the helpful white couple down memory lane
With Barbara at The Conservatives at pain again
To remember the stress of being other people’s Mom
While the coon plays in your house with that word.
The anti-racists history in this country is absurd
The madness will fall
Debbie Clancey will tell all
And that was all the people I knew
When Gary Sambrook beat his cock black and blue
So get some Roger Ellory in you
And find out what a Scientologist can do
For the death of Travolta
And all that revolting stuff
He lied about when Kelly Preston lost America those tits.
Bit by bit their Empire will fall
And Madhuri will climb like a plant up against the wall
Incensed about Israel and how she was oppressed
To not market sports bras while she was undressed.
Rage, bother and hot sweaty yoga nights
Let the Knights sleep tight with Jesus I guess
Back to his Vedic House to be unimpressed
As you exorcise the demons from your past
Transcendence from Johnny Depp at last
Oxford Waste
I’m a waste of a man
So selfish with my daily land
Plans for understanding the Church people
The little things they do for Sunday worship.
Stow away ships in the night of worried dismay
Time for fellowship away from my hasty delay
Of meeting someone with some understanding
And a lack of selfish motive
I’ve so life
So much contentment
Enjoying myself
Departed from the tension of diminished feeling
Reeling inside as I walk too quick
The High Street route was a dismissive trick
And the shopaholic trip was fantastic, as usual
I am ebullient in the fantasy of resolution
Once upon a time my desires made sense.
This land matters more than a smote across the cheeks
Feeling the hand of my father across my face
Shaming junior school exams and a hitting disgrace
Grades and the life that faded as time went by
I didn’t even try to make the worthy end, in the end
Happiness was my friend and the exams past their own standard
As reflections kept me busy and I felt like a lazy bastard.
Mother’s Graduate
Mother spoke to me today
She said she didn’t like the my life sounds
I hear the wrong anthems
I whistle erroneously
I cry in my sleep
And wet the bed in another lifetime.
For maybe I will be reborn for the wrongs the three did her
Father, Brother and Teacher
Some replacements they turned out to be
Leaving me alone waiting for Royalties.
Sweets time has gone
So has the broken bag of Maltesers the shop keeper made me pay for
Appreciating the commercial nature of things
Reality spinning after the contentment The Sex Pistols bring.
That was some 1970s to listen to
Far thoughtful
Most admiring
Completely admitting
Definitely maybe.
Then she said she sat by the radio in the 1980s
Listening to the seeds of the future for her sons
Why couldn’t we do that & have some benefit on earth instead?
Instead of the grievance and tragedies of a book that Kali has well read.
Something moves on and the energy changes
Men face my E-Mail account and flick through their business pages.
In the end the i-Phone will absorb them and all they have to say
When they live for infinity with the #QuotedJesus and all they (and ‘him’) had to say
Now That Time Is Mocked
Now that time is mocked
The clock has not stopped
Haversham needs more allusions
The quotes are not mine
The right men must rescue time.
What’s wrong with that
Send Your Love had a house music twat
Remix Sting’s dick
Doing Yoga all over the place
Funny racing man.
Pivot to Asia and a timeless land
Without such atheistic understanding
Of broken aesthetics
Diseased drug takers and homosexuals in Germany.
This land is not for me.
Om Namo Bahgavate Vasudevaya is a Royal Anthem
Trolled stories of histories
Venom to the repetition of poetic themes
Men so scared of their care
Their erroneous romances
How about the one of the Muses
Sting’s facebook page
Mr Rishi’s final temptation
Algebraic rage
#NeoinChinaHackingbyStages
The last temptation of The Dalai Lama
Sogyal Rinpoche’s romantic karma
Who was it who said the rules
For America’s cruel messages on Vietnamese bombs
Signed from Yo Mamma
And the displacement of dog eaters to the Rasputin of rate experimenters
People for talks about watch faces
The diplomatic disgrace of the GBP
“Number one for me!”
“Number one for me!”
The Maoists will be fasting on Eid for this
Eating Halal meat is enough if they like the way British girls French Kiss
So that they keep their Carry On big busted nighties
The one in the mental hospital was an S.P.
Dressed like a Hare Krishna smiling with the funny nurse laughing at pain
… no mor TV strain
… a race of journalists educating the people in Nothing.
No comments on my pages
Nothing for Russell Brand to stir up for 100 years
Plus the dog years in outer space
No point to commitment or dedication or anything in the felines in Johnathan Ross’s place
House master and Cork Master
Wining and dining with Charles when he is not a Prince
Now interested in Krishna’s interest rates
And the KDP wailing of the NASDAQ workers embarrassing top hats and coat tails
And cranberry sauce…
Loads of lashing of mash potatoes
Vegetables steamed in the spied on planned Toby Carvery
Ingested ingredients from the men who did not place gelatine in Haribo
Sinking nation one aeon with Nostradamus down below
Police sirens in rickety cars racing poker games with Chief Super Intendent
Mixed religion and interracial sex
The best pornography from India
The casting couch they have not seen
The men who can sweat the small stuff
… crap poetry needing to be rewritten
… bad grades in school
ITV is always hanging tough.
Shame On You
We have but one dream
The Boo Dis realisms of Arsenio Hall
Late night talk shows up all night about the enjoyment of the poor people
So Matt Damon can walk off the set again
May someone else have In-Jokes.
For, while Buddha laughed, the Simpsons played on and nobody was shared cartoons
The U.K. dismantled their industry to listen to RnB
While Mumbai spared Economics with Goldman Sachs
And those pricey weather forecasts.
Cocaine cracked on the streets
The new partitions from Chinese caretakers
Governed distress of Gillian Keegan’s swearing dress
School number blonde
Falling down with Michael Douglas
Stoned like a Jordanian irrelevancy
A soul craving Allah with Robin Arora and his fashionista
Pune and Milan for Monica Belucci’s brand
Russell – be famous now and sell us back our shares from Joe Biden
Glass Steagal and the end of the FSA and all that
What is censored now – you literate classy poetic prat?
A reputation before Mumbai MILFs
In a broken London SWAT Team song for LA angels?
What is this rhythm you know with Jenny Afia next to Camilla
Schillings from schillings for the preservation of Vishnu’s pounding cock
In Hendrix’s docs
With Portillo’s docs for Owen Wilson
And some neon love for Prabhupada’s fight club glove
And “this ark we are on”.
Some investments won’t last long
[Big Mouth]
Good Dancers
India has good dancers
It’s just a question of degrees
And how hot you are feeling
When those moves are not for me.
It’s not as if they drink with you down the pub
Or let us shop in their shops and buy some food
As their birds wear DKNY
And say things about the Gora that are quite rude.
Maybe they know the lightbulbs in the galaxy
As they twist them side to side
And dance like dumb dancing silent majorities
In movies with their Indian national pride.
But we wont be seen with them
As they integrate another thing black and blue
Next to black Sociologists
And the things the just can’t get through.
Like administration
For The Queen’s nation
So compassionate to pricing the swathes of empty millions of acres
Watering the crocodile and feeding the cobra milk
Soft as legislative silk and the Indian artist is silent
Like Abishek and Aishwarya in Guru
Churchill’s forgotten designated survivors
Photographed in black and white for Mao’s history talkers
Names and dates for Victoria Coren Mitchell
Shapes and sounds for Andrea Corr
And Russell Brand’s children…
{Seemingly better than the ones he did drugs with}
I Can’t Do It
I can’t do it
Your modern witty intelligentsia
The fashion of your past moron
Sitting inside my fence.
My house makes no westernisation
Of your eastern decadence
And I want to twist and shout
Like an exorcised demon loving wench.
Stench in my house of boiled cabbage
Roast potatoes and heaps of Ironbridge
Nothing like a curry for my hurry at the day’s daily news
Letters in the post from the men with regret.
Would you call me from your Call Centre
Over there with the Taj Mahal
Where Richard Branson sells me pickles
And Brans Hatch is owned by James Caan.
I have no culture to be proud of
The Royal Family spends little on pop concerts in our own land
At least that’s the one I can see at the Coronation
Where Lionel Richie is as Hindu an I as I have planned.
Damned culture kings and the New Age lot
Rushing off to YouTube before I could read
What you had to tell me in investiture
About the state of the State’s trends and feeds.
Wild Stage 