Enlightened Yoga

Do I fear you if the crude fact is exact
In the exactitude of being rude about attitude
When the lyric and the ode is so small
To the point of meaning at the end of my nose?

Did you follow me there to care about the hairs and bristles
Now waxed with a Turks’ fine thistle and weeds
Of a tortured inept feed of employed luck and di-granteur
That deepens mans health for the wealth of the Minotaur.

Go with him! Settle your debt with the crossbows that tale the affair.
The journey is of an over-ness too quickly and ‘these days’ does not descend,
To my male friend to make amends for the political discrepancy
Of how I was Lemurian first and he grew up with Gulliver’s worst?

Tolls are on bridges for the talk of a long marathon of wife and child
Redressing the imbalance of Disney in Paris for the eagle eyed mildness
Of temperate investment in a European affair of not being One Money
always spending, always shopping, always love and drink some (More?)

There was a show on the dancefloor and the market moved to freedom
Hours were spending time with children for extra examination
But nothing moved their French and German to Herman Munster
And a friendly smile for the American crocodile that grew up unrhyming ‘Alligator’.

See the confusion? Spot the protrusion. Aeons from now: It’s a beaten cow.
There is there and that is that, so this is this for them to be them.
Sociology and Weather Reports do not respect my evening escorts
So why do I repeat myself to time that does not love me?

Love me now, again, awhile & let’s sing of Krishna and lonely dancing styles
For he is learned of the Nigger and a race so profound
To have conditioned Indian women for romance that is not brown.

Again. To the step. Let’s have one more from Spike Lee:
What is the perfect Fall for a sonagram from Thee?
Your God gave you a Father and your sons are gangs with delinquents:
Let me catch up on some demographic bliss with Theresa May
About how Amal knew St Hugh’s with her equivalent.

Is this what was meant when the 1980s got spent, one day at a time,
Eckhart Tolle’s crime – Now is when I say Gibraltor –
Tomorrow is when my friend’s wife’s client enlightens a halter neck?
What the heck? And can you inspect a reject of John Singleton’s assured fashion?

See that now, 7 years in tow, like a Tibetan film & Heinrich chillin’
What is the Master, who is the student, DPhil Potential and an O.T. ruin
British Mental Health, 4 hospital acquittals, my arse and your face
More Colonial than you can shit on.

Please sit on the mat. Questions that. I’m a minority report
Before I am a law in Tort. Your children know you before a clue
About the Crown in Courts that I paid to resort to for a career
And my fears of economic disaster when you the black became my (Psychiatric) master.

Boss. Man. Lonely friend. Do that again when I am worth my end.
Yours is not the Christian or the NHS: Jesus gave us his best.
What is a Pharoah but a holiday to an equipped man
And where is the Socrates but some bytes in your M&S land.

Was it my Degree and loss of millionaire ambition
Or was it your S.P. and wife with her child’s A-Level revision.
In such darkness made up like the colour of your face
How much Satanism is coming for the end of your disgrace?

So dunk with Jordan at 92, this is not a time for the Buddha in you
You don’t like The Bhagavad Gita and Krishna is a clown
So raise your first fists again with opposable thumbs to keep The Olympics down,
Quick runner, unopposable leader, what is the land mass of Christian true?

If it’s more than a Muslim will you take the Jew on with it:
And as for the homosexual Dr in the office, can I get a clue for his Clooney revisionist?
Is this man into The Monuments Men for some dope art?
And does he want Depakote to raise Acidity and Ph for knowledge of fart?

> PJ Harvey >>>>

This is the time of CoVid and wisdom
So lend me some fears and lyrics to dis them?
What is option when China is not Africa
And who started the disease when all I heard was black laughter?

Systemic Retro Virality

The inner world is full of my love for life
There are kites for little boys with their fathers
Aloft the coursing heights of Primrose Hill
Where the land is still for wealth and happiness.

These are the calculations within us
What is more to whom and what is less to what?
When the fly went swat against the wall,
The sensitive amongst us cried for the Garden of Eden’s Fall.

This then made us and them
To better the fruits of leadership for Zen
So that Sikh and Punjabi could go on and be happy
Without the Hindu being too into you, for Atman and it’s crappy
Take on reality.

This is what the unevenness is for me:
Stuck with depression misdiagnosed at the DWP.
They see my symptoms and flail and shout
Quietly twisting their heads with “we” and “I” all about.

So you have eyes and they see;
Did that make you equal to Mr Rsi?
For your use of my first name and familiarity
What contempt have you of court for being so silly?

Do you know I have a father far away from your throne
Where you toilet without yoga and toga that lonely bone?
Is your Greek not English enough for the outer world full of cars,
Can you speed past 30 MPH and call yourself 50 or 60 and …
… I Out of School
… II And “I’m’Ard”

Where are these classifications on the forms for my illness for the nation
While you Brexit World War Three and take the soul out of me?
Do you stand by corporate loss and hold Branson to be your boss:
Is one Wong Tong Soup enough for how much he knows and has [done]?

Let the Easterners have fun and see the conquer the world
You’ll find out what you want to know when you see their porn school girls:
What’s their symptom and how do you fell watching the world for failure and success
When you miss your underwear on your head and should work in a pink or blue dress?

The universe may be one verse if that is all that can survive
By the time Krishna is serving your dishes for a Gita that can strive:
To educate the Royal College of Mental Health after LRH
Who want wealth without wielding results for employment and Halo’s wraith.

Call to me again for a question of death and suicide
And we will talk about your hair and cut the crap from your Deicide.
Do you not know about my brother or is it just “the family” that turns your on;
And how was it when you ignored me “ONE TIME!” and turned the heat on “my mom”?

What did I do? after you left the zoo, prepared by London actors
To go into world after all those drinks and nights with girls
For some swirls and healthy advice that changed with time
To find classification on racial lines a subtle offence but not a crime…?

Mr, Dr and Professor: Where is your thyroid at your dresser?
Do you fix a result for the lack of your gut,
That will not keep the trap door shut?

What if you did not stand up to so many patients
Could your English defend one of my statements?
Is it my English when that is colour of my skin,
Or is my food when it could be cooked by Djjin?

Where is your culture, you European whore
After I suffered Xenophobia from thugs at my door?
What have you done to my country and tongue
When you asked about “normality”: What was that when you were young?

Did you get The Beatles were a shallow fashionable affair
And did you leave Mr Deranged Mahesh Rishi Yogi at the door
To keep your own mind so you could stay self-aware
Without the computer making up your imagination for I.P. addresses everywhere.

Si is not Cosine and Tangents you do explore
When you send 100 nurses into a traps of my own through my door:
What are their names, what do they do and how will they heal the world as Saviours too?
Where are their dishes in their restaurant business
After they eat Baltis and do a number 2?

A job without consequences has yet to equal
Something Ron Hubbard predicted when aimed away from the Steeple.
For the Psychiatrist helps the journalist troll the hats of Rastas and Beenies
Leaving that crap on the floor of the BBC with The Master called John Sweeney.

Freehold

I’m sad
The deal is not on the table
The writing is on the computer
The wall is removed and elders have taken me home
Certainty is walking the stick route now and then
Incest
Invest
Ingest
The poor man is close to his car
The dreams go Hollywood far
A truck with the ethnic minority
The Asian is so close to the black man in me
What is the centricity?
What is the tower that the Professor got best?
When he takes his time to go home from black tie and undress
And nothing adds up in the make shift mazes
As amazing as it is that we were once children who believed in his ideals.
This is the age that the Greeks will steal
These are the speeches that blonde haired men will yield.
Nothing will compare to the failure they take for granted
Of a free education that paid forward when the land was standing.

What Does Writing Do

Get me some stuff
A culture and some bluff
A hard hand and bad beat
Poker accounts all over the streets
Lets bet on some horses and imagine the football fair
Take me from the Sunday school
Keep me street aware
I don’t know the author of my Friday blues
I’m hoping I’m eternal
My mum’s death is not up for review.
The spinning and infinity
The churning of the empty gut
The riddles of the wise me
The sell outs in a rut
Choices and decisions
Nothing much spent from the Indian affair
Sold out books and Satanism
Keeping the children aware.

Sex is for their education
Things we did not have
Blocked up emissions from the Homeland
British Asian langue
Nothing much with to hang
Bands in the deranged plans
Of a tomorrow without a good abundance
Brahma is with Abraham perchance
And Bachchan is wiling away the hours
Countenance divine in the Indian playing fields
Wars from the shopping lines
Drinks are on the house
Navy Seals in the responsibility category
Meditation sandwich
Things our house can’t cope with
Compressed mind and Shiva Shakti
Waking up and walking around some times help her
She’s feeling empty
The DVLA won’t let us drive
Conniving Administration
Butlers and Chauffeurs for the right Colonial names
Dates and assholes everywhere
The clothes don’t fit the L and XL
Obese from Mrs Medication
“Rohan! It’s for life!”
Go get one, away from me…

Writing is a freed up act again
The nation is healed from a writer’s strain
Craving a graduate status with his own property portfolio
Keep me away from the queers of Malvolio.
This Victorian insidious unkempt moronic nationhood is not my hunting
Leave it with Amal and some one time punting
A lady in a lake and what could have been
Had she known Greek was a myth for life with Martin Sheen.

Wind Racer

As the wind hits his face
He impacts the ground
The winner of each breath
Pushing forward like Athenian hero
Heroes and heroes everywhere
Runners delight
Charity and lack of spite
Fair weather friends
Looking to make amends
A week behind the desk
What kind of hectic race is this?
A world of humans akin to rats
Laboratory and conditioning
It’s a beingness fact