Suck Sex

The intelligence
The weak legs
I have confidence problems
The lied about me in The Maya;
Said my pants were on fire
Aishwarya’s stocks were higher
Than Kim Basinger in my youth
Alcohol was not yet 100% proof
The blonde walks away
Pretty Woman (IMDb) has sway –
Boring 1980s is all I have to say!

The gang is due to meet soon
School is memory
Sand dunes
Arabic longing
Scenes and isness sightly
Those are some city lights.
I like to try
Grasping and clinging
Diving into the City
My guys, the sky and I.

There is a tower of knowledge
Some people tried College.
My parents left me with Buddha
He could not be my brother:
Am I the State Trooper’s keeper?
It’s time to see the city sleeper.

The largest social media company
Can’t keep me company
I am alone
All by my mobile phone
Bullying no-one for their clone
Letting companies alert that I will be moving home
… So much To Lettings
… dreams and forgettings
// Since 1993 when the bailiffs left me
Without my own home and a sad family …
Waiting to be number one.
There is no space for number 237
… or even 632//

Noble Amazon crew
Get a job selling books
Getting no dirty looks
Freedom and some freezing nights up late
Trying the mass media approach right now
Something about Krishna
Bart Simpson: “Don’t have a cow!”
The censors jumped
My sensibility said “Ow!”

Do you know how we can adapt
Stuck in so many traps
So I can publish and let the market be
Settled on the settee for who is domestic
Then I can engender gender, differences and sexuality
So the Free Market knows I am up to no tricks.

P(l)ayback

How do you know where the lawnmower grows?
Instead of leaving cuttings and shards of grass after.
Tell me to follow your literary disaster
And sell me some glass for a broken affair.

The long poem will not be there: – !
That was not so hard, was it?
Soppy open and shut case, does it.
The law, the lawn, some horses, some warning.

How does the cemetery sell the maiden for the cowboy?
Shawl and droppings in the misery post haste the shopping
There is dew on the Tavern where the cavern of my heart is still alive.
They give no strive
I have no give
Think on these things
That’s all I don’t give.
Here and there is everywhere
The sapping of advice from the spies who think thrice,

//
|| What if Eliot was one of the Irish?
Nobody falling down the stairs.
Where the rodeo sells up with the Studio music
And the nob ends enlighten their streaks.
Think at the end of the week,
That the end of the day was a holiday from affray
And how many words you satisfy the absurd
Who knew only to hurt so Buddha could {healthily} pay.

Durga

A normal anxiety pervades my kitty party
Where the cash flows wildy to please my sorority.
O.T. seasons ride hiding in the Super Bowl pricing
For an advert to my soul where the cost is tomorrow’s goals
In the company that analyses bliss
And forgets the sounded out price
The holy glacial meting ice
The terrors of fights in space
The loss of children in Chinese disgrace:
For Satan’s ____ hiss.

Count out the clock when the time said stop
And I could not work while the women went Twerk.
‘Tis the cause, ‘tie the cast
Men when they are acting are not last.
The Jerk (Simple IMDb) and “shithead” can experiment formally on Zee TV
< Mr and Mrs Bombay {(I dunno)} sell Sofas on ITV :: :: -à
“Come home soon!”
And the daughter left in the darkness leaving a hollow in the room
“I’ll be back before you know it!”

And the daughter laughed off emptiness so her Buddha Boy ‘shroomed
#Me
#Me
#MINE
“I am fine!” : Said the daughter
“I am watching Saif Ali Khan and thinking of you.”

The safe mother was walking about the table for more than Chai
When  she remembered the years gone by and times she felt angry rathe shy…
Such was the corroboration of the religious affair
While the daughter was opened to the public with Mousse in their hair.
Spray

A Sufi Graduation

Letters from the past won’t train

The memories to fell the Tree of Knowledge

So I am strained to remember the fellowship

Of more than I could count on

To talk to My Beloved with remembrance.

*********************************

Come and talk to me then Wench!

For it has been too long without the utmost importance.

There and here have I been swayed and moved

To fathom this and that merchant

For a carriage on my breast and smelly balance in my soul.

*************************************

It is okay for you to sail on the Ocean of tragedy,

Far from the Tempest of shackled likeminded people

With their trendy shoes and open flower pots –

What would you do? Oh Hand that feeds all:

If they all suddenly turned and looked at you?

*************************************

Don’t the mentionable men get in the way first

With their posh offices and the adorned frocks.

Their days meet Your glances first

As you satisfy your Science with the Doctor of Lust.

There are only us left by the middle of the post

When the mourning is derived from who ate brown breaded talked about toast.

*****************************************

There are those who go nowhere and stay together

And there are those who have somewhere to go

Even though they are alone.

Which one You choose is never so satisfied

As when I am the Asker at the end of the day.

*****************************************

The Swallow greeted the Ocean during midday

While the narrative was stuck at Elevenses

For the Hobbits to find their way past the awkward time

Of brotherly Love. When will you hear what She has to say

About the nature of Nature to repeat some of the unmanly things?

********************************

Thunder is unnatural when You are against me

I would rather face the size of waves perturbed by Dynasties

That have informed me of your Grace over the Ages

And how little I am now that I am formed.

Who created me? I do not know.

I am unknown now that You have found Me.

**********************************

The horses race but there is no victory

Because the causal realm is not decided by tape.

The rapture is empty and the perfume of the showgirl haunts

From the bystander on the Road to Hell

Who cannot find contentment in the arms of too many men.

********************************

The Consciousness of the space hero

Is celebrated as a modern sport and trophy holder

Who can verify my experience without Crown

And has seen The Promised Land without downsizing

Too many people to smaller tasks than their allotted time with The

Maker.


**********************************

Errors cannot stop the oncoming onslaught

Time will be timid before the might of dark nights

When there is no time for sunny walks

And handsome weather with friends

And tea in the café with good talks:

For this reason God kept Death alone and talked wisely with Friends.

***************************************

University was not meant to be after the Saddhu was rejected

By the end of the world Islam who’s labels were not Nike.

The exams were not reductions

And the students were not so welcome

As harrowing voices from strange Doctors

Hearing of things that they had not focused on before.

*********************************************

The blessings of a century were not enough

To heal the heart of a hungry devotee.

He had gone mistaken that the world was for charity

When he needed help from the powerful and lived with the poor.

Krishna was found speaking strangely to Radha

About his expectations and rhetoric of open door.

************************************

There was an academic dispute in the Rajahs

Their clouds had been parted and there was commotion.

Indra was counselled and the informers were diseased

From contamination with material nature

To learn more about earth

When en route to Evolutionary heights.

***********************************

Now that I am down with the depressing Computer

The days and nights are not felt in the greenery.

Motions are so cold in the machinery

Of my darkened nights with hostile light

That speaks of terror and my removal from The Spirit.

*************************************

Some men show and some men tell

The one that I am is within.

That is the shutting out of others who dwell

In the heat of the hearty fire of family and friend

While sacrificing riches for the one Friend at the end.

*************************************

In the making of the images of self-success

Is the Dream advertised by the ruined landscape

Repeated broken fragments

Slated coloured tropes

Into the tropes of Consciousness that does not speak of Love,

Until I am felt together with my fellow Seeker.

***********************************

The young are not like me any longer;

They do not seek like I did –

Until I am with the holding of The Spirit

Who is majestic and most fearful with my Id,

And the cold hard truth of identity parades

When the Industrialists made me empty value of zero.

************************************

Just because I am lonely

Does not mean the Dowsing is over

For the abdomen of a successful seeker

Who has balanced money with want.

The measurements are small and large

By which my appetite is satisfied:

And the model is not known by which to bring Her home again.

*******************************

Passion is not so fiery when the options are removed.

The energy is less than exciting when the chance is gone.

But the reason is energetic because of Love

And the Social Media provides ideas

That change the mood and leave me aloof

From wondering what would have happened alone.

************************************

The past is not poetical when the youth is familial

And the innocence of wanting is linked to The Other

And how the motions of desire could meet Sport,

As well as The Feminine

To express something that in time would flower

To meet different growths and unstrange melodies.

***************************************

The fear of the loss of the Mother;

Is there anything so potent about that

When the worldliness is speaking of her Greatness

And the tides of travellers do not talk back

About the changes in time to spread her wings

And make her with The Maker and not my Son?

***********************************

Mergers and proclamations of ideas not form

Tender the realms to be inconsiderate to drawings

Of the meanderings of minds to waver wagers on weaklings,

When the strength of tried and tested men

Leans on the old hands of Politicians

Who knew of the New to wait until tomorrow.

********************************************

Forgotten are the hopes and aspirations

Towns, cities and their nations

Joinery and mergers, thinking better

About how The One could be possible

For the many to be in pursuit of

Before happening to find too many tomorrows.

******************************************

The Love that was sweetest was not beckoned.

It arrived when the shores were least trodden on

And the sands of Time were busy with regret from Explorers

Seeking and finding the tortured remains of days and nights

(In the Land of Knights) where The Beloved held strains

To keep the curtains from falling on their last Play.

********************************************

Precious used to be the domain of awareness

Where attunement was gross and causal.

Before the subtlest sinews attested to the frostiest welcome

Of Love from the Source and how it was Consciousness,

So that The Spirit was silent and not proclaimed so wisely.

*******************************************

We live in an Enlightened Age,

When the Computer pre-empts the legal page

And written on our hearts is the nuisance of the Mind

That can our closest ally touch up and find.

*********************************

Words were once lament

And the walks in the woods were something well spent

To balance down the Abyss of Knowledge from Saraswati

Sharing with caring what was not so easy.

Freedom and Love sat beside Death and Hope

Such were the tournaments of Elders to decide.

**************************************

Deception so cold that the newest thing is a fright

Where the languishing of Knowledge is up all night.

Some things are adrift on the ocean

Where the moon’s cares are half spent on temporary things,

So that blame is an imbecile’s important gathering

To know the journey of Love.

************************************

Olympus deemed that pigeons and crows were fruitful

In their disposition on the earth to denote meaning.

So They fashioned mankind from the past

To be able to govern himself some more.

*************************************

The lakes were cold and tormented by icy edges

Where the land did not recognize the contrast.

It was here the Lady once stood with the sword in her hand

In the imagination of the fallen men

Who had deemed to frighten the Self to fancy all.

***************************************

The penmanship of the mighty

Was equal to the task of Time

And the oceans were taken to be far away

By the local man at the end of the day.

******************************************

A metaphor upon us is not a direction

The win is composed for the navigator

Of a movement that encompasses the Boddhi Tree

When Jesus was ring fenced by sheep.

****************************************

The movement is towards the meeting of ignorance

Education is the battleground of definition.

Time and space hollow the honest man for valour

When the news is pumped out each day

For the mentioning from various classes for organization.

A Sufi’s Awakening

The monsters have abated to oceanic glare

Of too many missions from lost ships

Glacial awareness atop of monuments of love

To find Me and the heathens who said no:

Because all they wanted was some rest

From the throngs afar of love in the wild nights.

**************************

Sentences were felled like trees needed

They were cut down and people were stopped

So that Jai Santoshi Mata was not ephemeral

And majesty was matter while The Mad Hatter

Was astonished while in The Looking Glass

And the modern world knew confidence at last.

*************************

Complements like the Third Way

Tell Me that nuance is not wasted.

The modern world is fragmented

Like a map ridden conquest needing ink

And ending up with lasers

Far from the maddening crowd of intellectual bliss.

*******************************

Joy to the masses for the coverings of markets

Free like the Americas to roam away from Islands

And Continents that balance time

On rocky indexes and sharp share points

With couples addressing marriages

For the price of their own Rocks and Diamonds.

******************************

As the music played the Woman watched over the waters

And the people argued who was the best

So she whistled for the fortune men

To blare the differences again.

The elders settled that they were welcome to it

And the masses were cheered to find themselves included.

***********************************

Returning from the seas

Mademoiselle found herself empty

The gates needed to be locked behind her

And her own hands were used instead of the guards,

Who had left her unattended for just one night

And time alone to remember friendlier times.

****************************************

The lamp remained on

In spite of being alone in the room.

This misery was helped by the balance of woodbeams

Leaving hope that the letter and pen

Would be married to a candle one day

For the contentment of the content speaking of Love.

*************************************

Familiarity was not welcome to the Indian:

He was so tense that the modest mood was ire.

Then the Pavilion was offered and some wet condiments

For an afternoon of travailing the London scene

And an actor’s glance at what could have been

Had the ladies written more and the Hats spoken less.

************************************

The sailor was sure

The demonstration had finished

The denizens had become accustomed to the waves

And he saw the Red Dress again

Accompanied by mute eyes warming him to Hindustan

The compass was not telling the evidenced Doctor the same proof.


*****************************************

The Egyptian was not asked of the Greek

How to play in the forests.

So too the Vedantist was invited by the Babylonian

To invent investigation of Israel

Until the New World had been discovered again

And America admitted Enlightenment

And had come to an End.

***************************************

Education was not this way formed

For competition to be known by brothers,

Who then need Vedic injunction beyond Mata’s intervention

#CainandAbel many times over

For The Mind and love from The Buddha

For what cannot be said.


************************************

Ask me a question and Postulate less,

Then address the nation with more than irritated Stress.

Don’t you know these things are for Me?

Has the Age spoken to you better than that?!

Come. Be undone. And let the mirrors accentuate the Newness

Of commercial restraint and too many buyer at the auctions.

*************************************

What is the way forward?

The wife of the best dressed men in the market was asked to ask

The asker asked again and the asking was polite:

This was remembered.

The Wise were then found again and sounds were balanced

Like the Dao needing no more than that.

*****************************************

The traveler was Wise. The roads were quiet.

This way the Fates asked him of passwords

And the horsemen rode on into the future

To open their wide worlds into Stargates

For the Apocalypse to enquire about why

Today would be any different online?…

************************************

The confidence of The Writer was stolen

The Banker had invested in the Medical Complaint

The offering was online and the demonstration was quaint

Of all the words the individual had seen go by.

Time was wiser than that and the payment was made

For Sufism to find the Key to Life again and pay with royalties kingly and queenly sums.

*************************************

When rhetoric was balanced by harmonies

The Parliament was motioned to spread Justice.

Then the names were known, again,

And the mirth of the Muses was mixed with feeling –

Grecian and Roman – so that The Vedas could listen

And practice some gaits for a while.

***********************************

The woman laughed at the man in the wild:

How he struts his arms in the air and stamps his feet!

Surely he know these words are for me

And that The Imagination was not made for youth.

**********************************

Silence was blazen in the fires of the lower realms

As Shamans warmed their glee to find The Friend

And the medic was watched for Schizophrenic attention

Notwithstanding the Schools of Thought near The Academy

Where the great Idea welched on tomorrow and fought

More than an hour of the Great Hand to blame politics.

**********************************************

Having to fill his time with aloneness

And the repetition of Naam,

The Saddhu went to the Hospital for help

And came back so answered with 0-9.

Why Guru? Why?

Because the good strain time so that I have things to get on with…

…. “Namaste” : Namaste 😊



******************************************

What was it the Shaman needed?

What date had he made the Friend late for work?

When was the Shelter denied some traveler?

How could he cut off a loan to the newly released from Jail?

These questions accompanied some Spiritual Guide back home

To watch with Mother as the Doctor made his Tea and broke Bread.


********************************************

Sapphires were the lady’s first choice

When the merriment was betwixt Hello and Good Evening

So that the passage of time was sweetened

By being given to more than it was admonishing guilt.

The newcomers were all talk

The windows were open with the tree stalks

Nature stood by and always knew what to do.

************************************

The Guides came by again and did not see the same thing.

There were no Horses on Oxford Street

No singing in the streets when action would bring

Balance for foreigners to trade with whistling

While the ladies streamed on their men’s arms

From the airshow of technology they now had to proof.

*****************************************

The Islamist entered the country like a Siamese twin

To the Babylonian misinterpretation of Knowledge

And that somehow, he was wanted for more commitments

Then a Trader and Traveler known to the morose Mother

Concerned of her child how he shall eat at the end of the day of Prayer.

***************************************

The Sea Horse was brazen before the camera

To tell tales of a life that the child had not seen

So the Scientist ventured forth with his Poetry books

To investigate invention again and panic for the umpteenth time

About work and employment for souls in distress on the Ocean of Samsara.

**********************************

Laughter filled the Radio room

The outside world was benedicted with Silence.

This was the passage of Time before Comedy

When the Royal world would be intruded on

And the fair farmer would say fields worth of thanks.

*****************************

In the old age, same as the wry times

In the young age, different to the dry times

Then when were the tears to come of loss

And shadows of Commerce spent in wasted regret?

This was the passage of growth for the old women

To loose their dependence on men some more.

*********************************

The watch was handed over to the Gatekeeper

And he twiddled the Rocker with his bony fingers:

Was this the ‘Could Be’ moment of the Aeons

When man had discovered the perfect balancing machine –

Or was Eve to find herself regretting her role on Earth

And how Jehovah was made up to follow here down Hell’s path.

***********************************

The mystic did not know

The Time did not tell him

There was no capital strain

And the markets were dull again…

Fellow man had not been kind to his needs

They were not met until help arrived from foreign shores.

******************************************

The brother was unforgiving

His hold on the world was The Real –

He offered a chance for Enlightenment

Down the alley of The Medic who frazzled hairs with wires

And spied on mirth with angry assistants against Unity.

************************************

Shopping was not admitted in Athenia

It was bare dressed for the Yogic absence of thought

Far from the horseplay of carriages and cloaks.

Rulings were made so that passion was displayed

Humble and restrained before Zeus to contour Time.

***************************************

Weather told the Shaman that he was accompanied

But He could not cope.

Those Angels needed some distance

For the road ahead was longer than Time

And The Flood was not yet upon the Earth

For the Sins untold that He had endured because of Medicine

Today and yesterday trying to heal the Healed.

**************************************

Racial slurs were all he had one faded day

To return overconfidence and his ruined hand

At the Poker Tables with Death

And some unstable O.T. comeuppance to be better than The Other(s).

So Science was awarded control of the language

While the Ghosts stood still, stared and laughed.

*****************************************

The Healer was asked what time she was Love?

Then the Medicine was not working when she worried by racial times.

This way the Shaman was moved to the new language

Of another Doctor who complemented her fashion

And knew her address.

**************************************************

Film Stars were adrift on the Ocean of Time

High in the School of Thought of localized consciousness

When the Great Storm broke out and glazed when looking

How adroit their position was to The Mind.

Buddha –

Then there was Confucian organization.

****************************************


In the retirement was not betterment

The Fates did not win the lottery

And the Ghosts did not leave town.

Stress and petty distress continued

And the children were no good for The Mother without God

Now that all the illusions were illustrations in The New Age.

****************************************

Then they sent for the Chinese to mediate commotion

And the fields told of the cities where they spoke well

Without the Burberrys of well to do men

Loafing with the Commoner about farming

And the debt to rhetoric owed by Jesuits

Seeking and finding the Tax on the Land.

************************************

Through the loneliness of Thought

The seeker knew Naam

And was adrift on metaphors and similes

Until he came to his senses

And found the Love of The Lord!

Was no longer blessed in the 21st century.

**************************************

Spirit was moved beyond Form

Dao was addressing Formlessness

God was empowered to use Mirrors

Angels held the balance of Time:

Man was returned to thought after 2012

And The Mayans had seen where they had been.

**************************************

Islam had been back to the court of popular appeal

To fine Satan for messaging the clues

To laundered cleanliness about how to escape conviction

For Time and Human Rebirth

If the name did not fit the right time of Fallen Soul.

****************************************

The Bhajan played on and the Community organized

So that new things could be heard and some old friends

Could know The Friend : Allah and some Godly remains

Of a language before The Computer spoke

Of feelings for a phone smarter than man

And contraptions needed to extract information with Revenge.


*********************************************

Guidance was not enough to convince Hollywood

Acting was too much amongst the Heavenly Realms

Dancing had stretched Bollywood too many miles

To return with Kindness the Writer’s debt to Gratitude

For the hours spent inactive and too close to Madness

For Comfort to be shared with Rich Society.

**********************************

When did He alienate?

Before the two friends were contrived repetition

As Adam and Eve overcome with grief

In despondent Wars in Heaven

For games they did not play.

************************************

The long Light was shortened by the need for a shotgun

As the infirmary spoke without words of its structure

To anticipate any argument

And be the best rationalizer : Clairvoyant and Seeker.

They are all here, at the best, in the Hospital chosen by Gods and Goddesses.

*****************************************

Is the perfect story Conflict?

And this is the Writer’s aloneness

To balance temerity with timid times lost to the world

When he is sometimes populated by his Imagination

And The Self with many selves sieving Time

For the odd hand with chance to know success, sex and some fame?

*************************************

Downwards spirals the contrition of the Realiser.

He is the one who is the many after he is one again.

His hand had typed what yesterday was written –

And tomorrow was his yesterday he could have taken back, to be one again

Awhile with many who want to know who they are,

When he has forgotten the School, the Playground and Parking Lot

To Work no more with fellows and felines

And yet to get from them attractive things for the dishonesty He still prays (pays?…) for.

****************************************

Leave it alone.

It is called Social Media and must travel Oceans.

There in the night it is on the waves

And this is the wavelength of You and I.

Trust in this tryst as time goes by

And India will forget Her destiny in years to come,

Travelling friend sailing by, one more time…

********************************************

Stop awhile and find out from Time instead of Sports

Why is the Writer’s body weak?

What is it he is asking for?

Where is there water on that farther shore?

For all the medication you provide,

To stop him to ask?


**************************************

The road is ignored as the wild Writer falls in love at sea

And the paving is abridged to muddy grass and stones

He is unattractive with identity

He is lonely with belly fat

He is unwanted with ADHD

This is the reason he flees abroad.

**************************************

How much did the Dr want to know

From all the books that had been written

Before The Writer had come to task

And not page numbered the exact counter claim

For the person the Dr knew was suffering.

The balance of Justice spoke of More and Less

And Time was witness to more Injustice again.

********************************************

The heart renders what the hand can hold.

That is why The Maker compliments dust,

If it is well used The Poet will be power

And the Time shall pass with flowering of formation.

Creation will be in the room awhile

And some words are needed to describe time.

******************************************

The woman wanted to ask of the Writer one thing:

How is it you know the words to the wanton Lust I am not solving?

Time and the right medicine from the wrong people

The Will of the small Hand that makes some things possible

Including my own demise.

BARDO POETRY

Travelling I see too
There are things that the world can do without
My self is one of them.
The passage of time leaves me without despair
I am longing to be there
But can wait,
Time.

**************************************

The mirrors are too much
There is too much confusion
The house of Scorpio has not been properly addressed
There is broken glass on the floor.

****************************************

I wait
I am high
My hiatus means I can fly with the Buddhas
They can see
I can see
It is with them
They are not the crowd in the world down below.

***********************************

It seemed to befit me
The crimes against passion
All that reason
The machinery
The robots
The self-awareness tests
The cults
But I could not see myself
And I fell over, awkwardly, and they laughed at me like I was a fool.

************************************************

Travelling I see the meandering ages of man
Tell a tale far richer than Whitehall
Or Madison Square Gardens.
I am free
Free from the search
The Superbowl is on somewhere
All time is marketed to them
And I shall not return to animal or livestock.

*************************************

It is not what it seems
The fanfare and the bandstand
The celebrity still rings in my My-ness
The popularity is affection from the Highness
I was too soon
And tomorrow it will all be gone.

**************************************

Through the photograph lens
Beyond the fires
After the wars
I am still sentient of who I was
Though they said nothing.

Was it me?
Was it the time?
What was the horoscope?
Maybe there is meaning over there…

*********************************

Their social scene
The seances
The senses
I need them.
I need them to patrol the vicinity with the emptiness of shadows
There may be some good borrowing.

Your voices of history are good for me
I can make sense now of what It was trying to say.

************************************

You have me
Examinations
The before and after yesterday
When the world knew what it did before the walls fell
And oceans welled up with Godly tears.

Connectives.
Your years.
Experience.

The Superficiality of a life lived since the 1980s
Oxford (boys and women).

**************************************

I recollect
Life before the medical debit
Credit cards
The American showdown
Little Tokyo.

There was so much to go
Life had it’s fair promise
Those who can, don’t show.

*****************************************

I was right
The after-shock of experience
And mental time
When before you did not mark my school works.

Medical jerk
Reactions and the Olympic way
There will be stern recollections
When no pills are available after the benefits of so many dead.

****************************************

They tale the East
Travel to the margin
Isolated they are poor
Yours is a good version.

Spied on
Eyed on
The many views of Brahma
Are kindness and karma –
I can see what the Buddha sees
But nobody told me what to now see.

*************************************

The race was more important
The time before the table was left out
The chase after the ball
I am with it all –
The one and all.

Seeing is so important
When is time?
Will life be mine again
For the love of The Buddha…

*************************************

Many years I wanted
The red saree and the golden bands of my special day
Why?
Trust.
The legal land
& what they had planned
Weddings and the marriage of what was impossible.

*********************************

To make a crime
And then not find
The legal time
For time and mind.

Only the Buddha could revenge
Empires and human kindness.

*****************************************

Lift me to kind Lhasa
And share with me tales of new Taj Mahals
Where Mumtaz will see it all
As I have seen it all before
A deigned Asian.

Pacifist
Medium-ist
Loser in the Christian war.

These are calm waters
Before The Flood.

************************************

I saw for the last time
I was not the Winner
I was not the Beauty.
The Beast was denied a final Fall
And all I did was before me
(In English).

**************************************

Life was not about being on the TV
Those that dined on TV
There were times for TV
I was a TV for a time with the Great Sea
And the Ocean of Compassion –
Whose name:
Avalokitesvara.

(Learning).

****************************************

What did not come at no cost to me
Settled The Ramayana with all families
This will be the last
There is no more incarnation
For a rose in a desert without imitation.

*******************************************

What is Maya?
What is the world?

Why is your life so?
When will it make sense to you?

These whispers you have heard in your life
And they were medicated into transcription
By the surgeon with a knife.

***********************************************

The love was not worth it
Time spoke of Modernism
There is a place called The Tate Modern
Time is so random

There will times tomorrow
(far away)
Where the journey of love will not be about your youth.

***********************************************

Cinema
Fractured lens of perception
Continental rejection
I want to be at The Cannes Film Festival again.

{a croissant brain}

There is more to life than the peremptory reflection of your own dejection before the light of Goddess Tara

And more to life than drugs and film
And more to life than drugs and film

************************************************

When I saw time
Regret made sense
The denial of time
Had made times tense.

The poet
The narrator
The voice:
All these things The Buddha did not judge.

**************************************************

Meteors
Comet showers and Astrological ivory towers
Waywardness and giddiness

I could tell myself apart from the human race below me

Follow me: Said Tara
& other Devas were there

************************************

Don’t be greater than your mum
There is no need for shallow matter.

The affairs
The yellow lights
The traffic in your modern age
The lack of turning pages

The modernists came true.

*************************************

They wandered far as Israelites
And found the settled land was not far
India and the Tibetan Temples
Is where Emerson shook his fists at from afar.

Himalayan ranges
Bhagavad Gita pages
The computer and human resources
Rhymes for Lakshmi’s golf courses.

…first things first…

*********************************

They yelled at me
Voice, Vermouth and Vote!
I saw those decades
Ranches and Oil
There is not much left now

Why is the TV so?

just wait until they are oldthey are human too, “Black man”

***********************************

The devil never wore a blue dress
He wrote Native Son

…if this is where your literary travels are beginning
then just wait until the end…

Books are my friends
Now

they will not always be so…

***********************************

The grand luminosity welcomes back wisdom
The shallowest part of a human being
The sentiment of meaning something to someone
Give it to me!

… let Krishna be free…

Not until some debts are paid
The way to Calvary is laid.

*************************************

We are the collective consciousness
We are the sum of One.
We are the ones who think of God all day long
And not where the loin cloth belongs.

You torture with Why do we do it?
You include with It is all ours?


We are the collective consciousness
You are the summation of Suma Theologie.

*******************************************

It all seems so much the annoyance of the sameness
The way I used to know things
Sadness
The joy of money
Tomorrow brings warnings.

The weather was false
{No nation ruled}
Those were just people who made mistakes as well.

Narrator
20th Century telling Hell.

************************************

I was the first to depart
So the story stayed with me
There was no Brahmin
Able
Watchmen
Ahead were Aeons of pleasure
Beyond that, was more of the same.

*****************************************

A world without their myths is no travellers den
The unreal seek themselves in the real
And the world moves to the planet so that the earth can give the wise rest
From the weary who do not know
And always show

Peace
Suffering
and Dharma

They will build a path to it soon

And then they shall write letters.

Communication
Warfare
Lovers.

That was who I was.

It was who you always were
And it was who you were always going to be

*****************************************


Sorrow has not place
Wind has no race to win
Candles are not lit
There is no life that is worth the most for a few or the many

Yet, Buddha’s jewels are treasured more than all the oil paintings on earth

Of those…
From those…
WITH those…

Nalanda.

*******************************************

In the afterlife
The life
Naming life still
The Renaissance
Oliver Cromwell
Charles Darwin
Adolf Hitler
Still.

that is why some are called hard-headed

***********************************

There was no use
The century was too more than before
The noise of Guru
What was all before his Victorian houses?

These are the spoils of man
This is the same India as before
I am learning of the devil in minute matters
I seek the refuge of The Buddha

Only in the afterlife will you see the Christ he was not.

************************************

My writing went to Asians and they recommended it to Academics
I was in Alcoholics Anonymous with people I thought it helped more
If only the mobile phone had let me use my body.

Sex
2100s
The morbid future
A world with “China”.

**************************************

Seeing the future did not mean being the future
Distress
Disembodied state
The search for meaning
Let the Black Man have his soul

RnB
#RnB1990s

That was how they did it

Dislocation
The world of the five senses,
And no religion mattered

#TheBeatles

(Cheer)

**********************************

She cheered for you like a groupie
Rock Star
Film Star
Paid accomplice (with child).

The children come every time.

School is out.

I was ignorant of the High Street.

***************************************

All of George Orwell’s little children
The past
Greyness
Jealousy of Americana

A great cup of coffee

*Bliss again*

They were there to annotate the pain

Criticism.
Journalism!
Criticism.

The News.

**************************************

In the end
It was in the beginning
One lifetime was enough to delude them

England
Quantity and Amount

I was not an Accountant

You will be by the end

*********************************

The past is not behind you
The future is not ahead of you
The Mystic is not hidden from you
& Revelations make sense by the toe of a Buddha

Therein is Christ the most reverend
And my story makes sense by his side.

Differences
Nowness
The Jews
Divide and Conquer
Linear Time

I understand so much

The Father
(The ‘not-Father’)

**********************************

I was swallowed up once before by the flowers of India
The decorations of the Dharma
Promises of showers of enthronement and leadership
The ability to mean well

Kali and the singular truth
Renting Colonialism is the same I felt after 1983

The photo & Dancers
Too much to turn my back on as Maya.

**************************************

Fullness
Wholeness of experience
The act of marriage

Emptiness and Politics
Watching man talk about anything but that

#Forget2047
Remember Socrates, Plato and Aristotle

************************************

I read the Greeks in the past
Before they were translated {in English}
For the GBP
Against the Dollar

The cradle of Western Civilisation was bankrupt
Brexit happened

…nobody noticed I existed either…

*********************************


The story of English society
Civilization
Retelling
American Invention
The Japanese invented I.P.
The Chinese were aware of Marketing
The 2300s made no apology

The Environment recycled things so the Black Man could know history

Circular Time & my life mattered again

…Vedas…

********************************

The Kama Sutra was superimposed
Layers and Minimalism
Marilyn Monroe

The Beatles (again)

The shutter speed was too quick
Man could not handle invention
The gun

It was too late.

********************************

They came from the past
To tell me my future
Before it was the present
Of the richest Celebrity.

Nobody
No-one
Nothing

Where was the book Telling me?

***********************************

It came so fastThe1960s
And the race was won

Space will never be the same again
And I was there to televise my own success

Mind
And The Buddha will win

*************************************


When I left the laws of the land
I was hurt in my head
The foggy density of a wild forest
They knew better.

The Police were the intellectual class
The Scholars just worked on their pass.

Automation.

***************************************

Libraries
The TV Wars
Opulent faux pas
The policy of turning

My life is the same again
the politician knew what books would do…

The years 2200 are ahead.

****************************************

If you have something intelligent to say
Say it with regret to Newspapers
That’s all I can see from up here
{Them}

Photographing the world
Spacemen

the Buddha in Tibet would have been nice

****************************************

When the realms spoke their truth
Accents
The familiar disgust
The territories and the frontiers
The Frontier Men

War by another means
Give me another name
Celebrate the Self

#Medicated

*************************************

And then they said it never mattered
All
All is all
He was All-Powerful
All Knowing
All Seeing
All Present
All

all

**********************************************

Many times I walked down the same road
They said it was sanity
Institutions were …
… Categorized
Sanitized                   demographically prioritized
Celebrated

The Word
                          became
              a literary delight

Turks

Marriage is a Corporation


**************************************

The mirror broke
And there was another
The possibility of understanding
The rhetoric of 20th Century success

“He never said”

{Know thyself}

***************************************

All the misery of life told simply truthfully to me
Made me convinced I did not want to smile
Was that The Maker?
Will I reach the goal?
Are the books arranged there, the way they are meant to be?

Ganesh was wise to shadow Shiva’s Mahabharata

********************************************

The line of the mind was narrow
The gates were illumined by Great Bear
Bardos told of time & simile
The way to truth was different there
Forgetful

I can see when my legs are wide apart
The gates of Greece are nationhood tomorrow

Buddhist Monastery’s will have filing cabinets

Socialism

Media

Leonardo da Vinci

***********************************

I shouldered the burdens of history
Unpacking the presents of Santa Claus
The nations were providing legal clauses
Nobody stopped for tomorrow.

These were the causes of my sorrow
Unhappiness led to depth
Depth was followed and mocked

The leaders sold the example
Nobody stopped for the hollow.

**************************************

Like a snowstorm the memories came to me
Then there was stillness and bliss
I recalled the promises from Sages and Wise Men
I was at the market stall at the time.

Fragmentary
In an allegory
The afterlife still exited reality at the same door.


**************************************

Evolutionary trajectory
There was so much slowness before the acceptance
Mind Body Spirit
Witness
The differences from the past
Being there and free at last

Brahman and the deceptive opinion
That all was one all of the time.


***********************************

It was not until I was dead that I was dead
And death was the party of the political scene.
Where have the English been
Why did the Americans let it happen?
What will happen?

Where will they export the rivers of blood to?

Dib Dib Dib
Rub a Dub Dub

Sail Away. Dreams!

censored


************************************

Some souls live
Some souls strive
Some educate
This one dramatized.

There was nothing left for me
The British Empire
It made up Colonialism while I was educating The Other(s).

It was too late,
There was nothing I could do
And I could not go back for them…

…#RememberingVietnam


************************************

When you photo’ed
When you screened a parade
When you where in Charade (IMDb)
Where you Audrey?…
How fair is that?

{Rat-a-Tat-Tat}

What were your rates for Heaven and Earth?

Head of the Church

all the Churches

************************************

It was human nature
There was so much illness
State Sponsored
So I joined in

Pressure
Stress
Tension

No school tomorrow
Days off and getting out of work.

Jai Om Namo Shivaya

{& Cassius Clay}


*********************************

From the beginning
To the end
It was not my end
That was not the end of my life
{Time}

They run their routes
They tease in their suits
They use the Firemans’ boots
The ambulance’s are in cahoots

Technology & The Police ruined the country
How complicated does a crime need to be?
L.P.C. & London Met

Schools must shut down

is Home Schooling safe?

“With them around”


************************************

The Night of the Examined Blessings

Throughout the night of examined blessings
A great being of stressful un-dressings
Wanted to know how I could be Enlightened?…
Given the prosaic stage of living frightened.

Lamenting essences of the envisioned joinery
Assaulting my senses with the medicine
Intelligently designed to question my bravery
Shaky roots, colonial carpentry and foundations weak at the knees.

I wandered lonely as a desperate quilt looking for the maker,
Shopping on my own esteem for bed mates in magazines
Nothing was for me in the violence of the armoury
Unacceptable hemisphere of hate.

Forthright likes and dislikes of confused and confounded foremost thwarting
Latent interest in unknown life
For the bumbling counties of country bumpkins,
Who is whom enthroned on the Thames?

Thanes swirl in cupboards feasting on Chinese cutlery
The European has no tea to trade while the bread and toast is buttered.
Anglo-South American reminisces the night sky with his women and wine,
The African descends a plane of ethereal misdemeanours unimagined consciousness.

Bliss is then my daily remains known by butlers and bootmen
Escaping famed name knowledgeable on London’s streets.
Copper is meeting aluminium with the beat of heavy shoes from laden houses
Hard won are forthcoming days of employed use before white halls and brown wooden floors.

Memory is fathomed by the wise ones up above
Naïve people distance themselves from the experienced:
Thus it was given to India to threaten the business
Of those so sure of second witness and surprise.

True questions beyond name and form
Away from I-Slam poetry and SAWM;
Mastery was survival and kinship was about-turn
I am a vagabond craving eternity staring at my mother’s Urn.

Listless death marches and trolled press
The internet spanned The Golden Age.
Cities earned pages of faraway entreaty
so that Mary could know beauty.

The closed gait, the horse’s mate, the chivalry at the corner’s quarter
God has not yet absolved the Buddha for sins of sons and daughters.

  1. To be a Quest
  2. To ask the Question about what a human is

Temporal lines created Stratford
There is a stealth.
Ninjas ghostly guard the gates of The British Museum.

These are The Guardian times
These are The Telegraph lines
These are The Times finesse
Who updates Page 3’s dress?
For if there is a Daily Mail…
What is hatred if you are still able?
Yogi, Balti and also a sheesha –
Life beyond shallowness in pale water
Diviners settled the land for some plans controlling language
Speak to me boldly, like Kirk or Spock
Before you afront a weakened Ronin
Seeing a Samurai like a ghostly frock.

These are the Bardos of time
These are the reminders of great souls
These are the fashions of the noble light
These are the last times of Christ.

Travel widely, then, dear friend and make polite national amends
Settle some settee time with arrogant wine
See through the looking glass of neo-Liberal advances on the telly of the past gnashers and teeth
In the heaven beneath the feet of shouldered giants
Who kept self-help quiet.

Who kept self-help quiet?

(2023)

Carnegie was not the Speak Easy and the come on was not so free as the advantage stamp served for the delicious mountain range and army reserves…
Do you want to fight forever?
Or can time cease to be clever?
For an anthropomorphic world will miss the consciousness of Brahman with its boys and girls.

(Numbers, Dollars and $) – Do that again
After Zen and 8 o’ clock
What is the point of blocking my cock?
Tick Tock, Tik Tok
Sell me a brand and stay more manned
For the Hare Krishna planned for the Indian Shopping Mall


—————————————————————————————————————-

4. The Noble Eightfold Path leads to Nirvana

>John F. Buddha Airport<

If that’s the greatest Creator
Keep it Mother Africa
Then centuries from now Afghanistan
Can blow up something big.

On The Padded Cell

(Ring. Ring.)

They drove me mad
It was first gear
They were all I had
That was secondary fears.
Scanned and locked
Banned and fucked.
The memory issue was only solved
By going forward in reverse.
That was a very merry hearse;
Marry me tomorrow to the lady in white
May we be the “Oum” Japa Bunnies
Maybe it is the wedding cake
Mistakes have been made
In and outside of M-An-Hat=Tan

(Ring. Ring.)

Stopped by Jersey for a tan
Caught up with the NHS boy for some fab fans
Offline printer
Online winters
Sad paid plans for old age
Road rage
Whitsun Weddings
-> Flotsam and Jesters
Still Larkin around, I see
::-> some people should be paid for padded cell poetry
To,
Brighten Up Your Jig
and make you dance with the wig
Yours,
Tories too and their Techno game.

For parties in parks
Sex on the brain.

(Ring. Ring.)

What happened?
Spin the polity
Rave the menagerie
Meditate the meditators
Medicate the lactators
Convene the meetings at 3 o’clock
Suck on that chicken for evening sticks and sticks that won’t break my bones
When your words on my dinner plate hurt me…
Wages and costs
Living on the box:
What was the (real)?
When wages were all I could feel.

(click)

Monsters of Game

Monsters of fame know the game that I name
But redrawers of old drawers cannot know the originality:
I claim! Stay with me & you will see. That is seeing,
And I am being. Keyboard, laptop & mouse:
If I am not grateful for my house –
Then who is the Conglomerate upon me
Greater than the North Sea and the airspace now governed by the School of Commoning
And evolutionary strains for more melody than harmony
| The right to not be repeated |
Poetry will not be defeated.
Even clowns have hands to stand on,
Do not admire the programmers’ random.

There is no-one to know how the space can be cleared
Fellows handle doorknobs for men being a different kind of fellow they fear.
Estimation is a cleverer way of describing the giving
That has not thanks in the miniature that is still living
After the wars of the East that fell down for the cleanest cocking
Of a gun to not know the right time to go door knocking
And find the Dame with the same man: Sing to me your Christmas plan.

Some games knew boards and the years bowled over wickets
So that the PLO could go underground and down below
The seas of the wavelengths for Mata’s density and travels
In the New Age of opened bowels and tortured remains
So that Puja could clean brains and Aarti told Saraswati:
‘Better the devil she knew’. Time is through with you
Clouds have fractures and health knows matters
Knowledge is in tatters and men know manners.

So be polite as Jews feminise the day
And hurry back home from the Christian who is Jolly Roger,
Tomorrow it is karma for the Muslim to have sway
As Mind Body Spirit stays with it for ‘Who is gay?

Microchip Romance

I came to see you
It was your asking
Stolen nighttime
Switches off
a century’s tale of lovers betwixt two microchips,
May some fat in the oven enlarge me
This aching Data uselessly touches the rising of my loins,
Cookies and dreams
consciousness’ streams.

What’s your ideal type?
Who are your fantasies?
Where can we get together?
What are the best trees to go planting?

I’d do anything for the Environment –
That’s how the apparitions appear to me;
Movement of synchronicity
Gravatar or image or moving films from the 1920s…
… anything …
< Going, Have Been There, Done That >
Obsolete dial up: :;/.%”-+;@: “Call me back!”

My information is not at your doorstep
Help is very far away.

Abandoned.
Isolated.

Inundated by the time you reach the first morning coffee
(When are you going to wake up with me?)
Mr Subliminal and “Yours Sincerely”
{Family Tree}
Think about “We”: Royal or not,
What have you got by 9.30 o’clock.

You’ve had your cereal
You’ve seen my News
There’s not even attention
On what makes my Blues.

Yet you deny me your access codes
You don’t download to me your privacy.

Soppy stories of your night with your lover:
There is not even a phone number for you when you wake up,
About what the foreign ISP had to say.