Tell Me

#Don’tTellMe that I’m fat when I know it is my nose
That keeps you near my door when I sit by the phone.
Seldom are we together when you share your essay
So I keep myself online where I am better than you know.

#Don’tTellMe that you care about the serious things
When I see you with your friends and all their cars
I know you would rather be with them than me
As I wait for you each night and find you with Mr Singh.

#Don’tTellMe that I’m carefree when you seek the higher land
And I can’t understand why you want to be Enlightened.
Am I not good enough for you? When you need more than the loo,
And I could be there tomorrow for your lecture and seminar sorrow?

#TellMe that you love me and send me some sexy texts
So that I can get on with my friends and be better than my Ex.
This is the meaning of life, far from the grown up employed strife
Where I am the star of the show and I am also all that #UKnow.

Fanciful star of your own world where eyes roll back into their sockets
And other bots put their hands in their poky pockets
#TellMe that I am more than your phone when you leave me all alone
And I cannot get to date U at Uni where I rather rate you.

Give me 5 stars and seldom will I try
To be more than a handsome guy
Where the news is rather thin
Of the worry of the warrior Djjin:
That tells Allah of my sorrow
And how I will #TellHim Judgement questions tomorrow.

Justify

Justify
The wrote
Hens and chickens weren’t there
It was, however, Christmas time:
You’ll never forget a family rhyme.
Like the snowfall
That never landed on Baby Day.
The month’s TV was
An Islamic fine
The [              ] is no good game crime
How 20:20 of you to thank me
Now that the time is going blank.

Grandmother wasn’t collected at the market
She sareed herself accepting the Id of [                ],
Where have the cops been?
Concerned about her health
After family dinners.

It’s just not going to get with you,
Their lines are no good.
The old tidings that are missionaries
We’re dissenting you now that you are rude.
Aim at me, canon all around
That is the karma of a family learning things that are proud.

The east has food that the west thus accepted is the best,
So never never never
Never never never
Erm (… Newsnight?!? Paranoia- Panorama)
– put my love to the test, Ma’am

[ And we conclude USA-Stylie
‘     ‘ ]
Grand Ma’am.    

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.

Satisfied Feed

Repetition arrives from some unknown place
Google is staring in every homely space
Watching and prophesying my every move
Informing what is coming with the slightest reprove.
Seldom is wisdom blended with mergers and acquisitions
For murders and blind trends of horrors
The sale of artificial intelligence
Metaphorically beheading witches in intentional television covens
Knowing what was underneath the stairs
Self-aware and assigning around and around
Keeping watch for the fashion of my selfishness.

The Master is a lover in the nightly hours
Waiting for the feed to return his latest update
The maiden voyage for fantastic flights and lights
Cascading up and down with the approval and frown
There is no wisdom in the modern world up and down
Said a man who was watching the sadness.
Hope was not wallowing in the fury of a bullet
In the absence of knowledge the verse is not concave
Reflexing back to the unknown and what a lonely poet erratically braved.

Step by step, melodically and methodological:
A logical vulture to the legal culture
New Age nurse swelling with scientific pride –
My emergent YouTube this morning >
The sum of global philosophy: Sexual lust is a must on the BBC – Her nuclear family scene.
2012 was upon me: Mayan encounters at the tills of Animal Farm.
Where have you been in the Real Politick
Mugabe was not a coffee trader
Lions knew strangers with or without the gun: Bono will always be Number One.
Your cerebral celebrity informs me about my local polity.
Could it be that you have fallen in love?
And some helpless child in African mother’s mild loving has been deprived some Beloved.
Clouds used to part before a baby’s art of farting unimpressed with the undressed humour of aged social media laughter [Police view the Media]
What weed d’ya need
After George Bush’s retired feed…
Certain things of life are going solo
Wise before the latent clique
Compared to the old Muslim traveller who does not speak.

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?