Ring twice if you get me
The phone is the space between me and you:
Text me happy if you forget her
We are the being alone crew!
I am happy to induct you
This is the time and the reason –
So get your kit together and get a whet on
Now is no time to be sorry about sardonic.
Have they Tweeted that,
Like a flat group
Hoping for ‘B’ to be with them?
Don’t they know ‘B’ is being with us
And the too live crew in the living room
Of the underwear drawer of my heart.
Send him an I.M. then
And I will face him on Facebook
The Masters are amongst us
By his divine reckoning
And clean spam account:
Sell those stocks and shares
And bounce me back Ping from Pyong Yang
Those are some fair prices for his soul
In the land of his make believe.
Sans crypt is being without a grave,
He is not even dead when the toll bells cave in
So type away some jive for the music that is your rave
And he will forgive you for those bad beats (like Jesus).
See! He thinks he knows it, get the money
And run off another pronounced print
If the deceit is in The Bhagavad Gita
Then gits and gist with defeat ya’
Cha! See what I mean?
He takes his picture unclean –
Teach him to shave, that beard is for some slave
And China will know what my mates mean.
hinduism
Are You Still?
Are you still not good
In the marrow of an old age?
Do you temper the garden
With a shelf in your potting shed?
Can you field a mighty catch
On the boundary of dissent?
When the newspaper misses
What Jesus and Carol might have meant.
Do you still sing badly
When forget your scarf at the Gurdwara?
And can you remember your mate
If she does not accompany you to a Buddhist retreat?
Do you dance with Radha or Krishna when your lonely
Or is it Meet-Up, Namaste and how do you greet?
Can you place a mat upon the alter
And chorus the agreement like we matter?
Or does Germany need a history
For the Christian Party to know pater?
It is time for the individual
It is time for the revisionist too
It was time for love and sex after the revolution
There was time for Chaitanya and me and you.
Are the markets for some pricing
So the Mullah can be greased for perfection?
And when the Jew is erecting a house in Gaza
Is the American academic about his defection?
If the speak is easy in Asia
Then the reggae is loud to my ears
But if a Free House is Dharamsala
Then maybe it is easy on those Brahma Beers.
Can you lotus a posture for pride
Or is it a sign of the cross when you’re angry?
That modesty knows marital discourse
And a Harem is awaiting a Saddhu for his harry.
Question me not and receive no regret
For the quietness of a popstar without music:
But if poetry is Siddhi to the Shisha lounges
Then what is the who man to the tunic?
Scotland, my land: The honour of empty high land
When was a God so Indian: But for the absence of grand proof.
Ireland and lie land: The fire land and some tired land
Let me to the decency of troops: But for the elegance of dancing
I would not know the Dragon’s Welsh prancing.
Confused are the answers to aged queries
As queer as the time is for gay folk.
Jolly with merriment and rough laughter
With all the honesty they never spoke.
Matters are grave and the diggers are not caterpillars
A brand new day is not always going to shape my heart
But when music stings the elegance of a bee
Then clay will make Cassio and I drift apart.
Get thee to a monetary value
If you should fathom the row in the Ur-Rakim,
But mention not the tapas or the Spanish quest
For what has spaced truth out to love in between.
Call Me Back Ring twice if you get me
The phone is the space between me and you:
Text me happy if you forget her
We are the being alone crew!
I am happy to induct you
This is the time and the reason –
So get your kit together and get a whet on
Now is no time to be sorry about sardonic.
Have they Tweeted that,
Like a flat group
Anti Christ
Mastery or misery
The hits upon me
Scenes cut on the dancefloor
Somebody is calling for more
Honours are rolling like calls
And curtains are falling on shoulders
The heaviness is heavy people carrying heavy things
And lifetimes the continuance of temerity to bring,
The New Age and some Christian sing songs
At Christmas for the fort around my heart
And drones of warfare torn apart
For the silence of nights with the hills of shame.
England has now names and castles
But tomorrow is an I.P. battle
And the contest is won on a weekend TV Show
For all the girls to derby what horses I don’t know.
Are is can can?
Is ‘R’ the voice of the life span?
Who will read, my textual feed
When Bibliography is Buddhist with dharma?
Did you sell India’s karma when the stale bread was divine with cost?
How is the produce numbered by Wallahs, who estate pride in foreign affairs
When a prison ship would evoke an old age loss?
The names have distances and the places wear good attire
Come down they say for the belting of a Squire
Millions and Billions, Millions and Years
Millions and Newspapers, anticipation and famous people’s fears
Repeated. Defeated. Consciousness has electrical elocution lessons
For the men with the beards and Vikings overseas lost without means to please
Beers. Beers and more beers. Beers glorious food! Alzheimers, Cancer and Custard!
The mellowest light is forgoing, the remembrance so tight of being all knowing.
Humans are not robots anymore from the 80’s dancefloor
Robots are big in Japan and they lend the waiters a helping hand
Poets can come from Pakistan, even if they are Pakis from British lands
And robbery can be at the button, so that dogs can snoop overlords for Goa and African mutton.
In a million years from now life will be free
From the Industry of people and their faces.
Then the sad dress of the tightest fanning to impress
Will be Sati for all the assured disgraces.
Fires that burn are not fires in the night
And measurement is not love in the haste of too many talks:
But when Fitzgerald was great he left room for truth,
So white jackets could know polity and grease heavenly proofs.
Some truths shall not fade as Desdemona claims every Willow
Such is the price for Scotland to ask twice, for freedom for Wallace after the show.
There is always tomorrow
There was always nothing
Some families need no Ganges;
But when the name was used
And Krishna’s stories were abused
Silence became the confused
And Dao answered with China’s entrance and dragon, profusely.
Welcome to the 21st Century
& bid adieu to the English of wankers:
Here is a decision for investment and oil
To tank the banking with some oily cases.
The F.B.I. race and Angels that care
Over and above the oxide stares
Of selfies and big-bummies and the British quip chill
Girls are still the best readers. Still and still,
Cumming for the bumming and strumming
Like a humming that annoys the Gods of Greece
For 90 years of electric Synods and some spoilt lazy Priests.
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.
A Saviour’s Way
Catch it before it happens and see the betterment of man
There are things more evolved than love that intelligence does not understand.
Movements have come and Hippies have given commentary
On what was not to be said loudly by my family and me.
Death to the Rsi’s, abandonment and genocide!
India has a Beauty Queen now and can shoot their own Raw Hide.
If you save a post-modernist, what future is left,
When the joke falls on Rupees’ capitalism
And an African’s cleft lip?
Chip to the U.N. for a cause and some football with David Beckham
Tomorrow is nothing and Shakespeare is not so handsome.
Award the school of the highest halls
Mohabbatein with talk back without asking questions at all.
Deepika, Priyanka, “Pretty” and demolished egoic self:
Where is the health and the wealth and the stealth?
If you have no courts for the voice(s) of Americans deep within your coned bras
Then how can you rape foreigners of their hope for tax from their cars?
Do you get me? Yet is the cheese so lettered like a man known as Mr Freeze
Or is time allowance for some drag on your products
When one of us was not Gandhi like Obama driving George Walker Bush’s bush.
If it crashed, what’s the Dharma: Does Sathya Sai like your trains –
How about Versace and Aishwarya and those tallies for underlings’ brains?
If you use my name, I am you I for Egyptian gold and claims:
But the sky is not owned by President Clooney…
any more
Open Rounds
Enlightenment is about
The rounds are open in the Tavern
Tankards and happy men
Merry women skirt about serious business.
He’s back with a smile on his face
Blonde haired and lippy
Eyes like a pill head in a 007 sequel
The Black Man
The Caravan
The plans for another SUMMER HOLIDAY
Lets do lunch next year in Paris
I’ll buy the coffee while you wet your old age panties
Maybe our children can swap notes
And plagiarise the generation of artistic meet up groups
But he’s back again and wants to share the drugs.
He who talks dares last
The Christian is owed some money from the past
The lighten is darkened
The Atman is heartened
The Indian is outdated by the Indie grunge ratings.
#Nirvanaisbackagain
Thanks for access to the mainframe
But when I’m a Jew I’m history to the hostile Dr in your time with religious experiences
Why do you need to stand outside the law?
Closets
The first was Adam answering Eve
The next was nothing to Steve
Because he was shy of the reprieve
That Satan gave the pail of water.
Why was she not God’s daughter?
Who needed her burned at the stake?
What is the raise on the hot bed of emotion
Of an ocean feeling spirits instead?
A heterosexual arrangement with Courts of Justice:
A homosexual tertiary commandment
The Ten Commandments respected ignorance in sinful times
For the merchant to pride the light in a seer’s eyes.
Don’t you know?
Didn’t you see?
My certainty.
The Book. The Book. His kingdom for my looks:
I want to look so certain again that I have regained his race.
Jews so common they displace
London to Nazi Town
Come down to the common man and surround me
With what it feels like to be brown.
I’m no Hindu, you sporty sporadic football kicking twat
Like a Governor who’s a Governor in ‘your’ school.
I sit out the next election
‘he’s cool’
The white kid how played the mental health (charity tax) fool.
Christianity is not for this century
These leaders are left of the debacle and debate
They never went back to old man fella Jesus
And got lost instead in Bei, Jenga and white China hate.
There is new shipping for some travellers
Some trade for some merchants
Openness for the God Delusion in Hindustan
Where elongated language chants
Hare Krishna
Hare Rama
Om Nama Shiva
Welcome a door mat to an empire
The one me & Mum bought from the Eden Project
Things to product and protect
Items to ship in states of dejection
While the religious man means some State opportunity
For the politician knock knocking on a musician’s door.
Any food and drink?
What is in?
I think and I think.
I would like to know the sex on the show
When the barista is embarrassing the glow.
What once was of Church was shared with the FTSE
And then the demeaned played footsie with the Tutsi
So Shakespeare can’t close a verse with a computer penned name
That seeks of a Rishi what it is to be famous again and again and ….
What is it to gain when the man is a frame
In the reindeer named politico who aims his archer well?
Let’s not dwell on Mahabharata for the weddings costing so much
But forget the show with Mark Wahlberg for the Christmases we can’t touch.
Hardy and Hardeep is not my soul concern
For the time left to play messiah for what Lionel asked to earn.
Give it back to the social employment of man seeking joy after mankind
Then there will be a promise and an upkeep
For things the lawyers did once find.
44
But like that I will be devoured by the fashion
Tonight with my lonely pen and quill
Playing Scrabble with mum in our small house
Lest the ghosts have a bigger pill to swill.
What was it you wanted for my thyroid?
From European Professor in F.M.B.s
What is it to direct you to your blow jobs
And how much you earn from closets
Too Good
My poetry books were too good
They hurt the open market
They were Communist when they were Western
And Capitalist as the Chinese paused for thought.
The British told the French to leave it alone
The Germans told the Londoners to socialise better.
The Indian prayer left Ganesh at the alter
To find out who my letters were addressed to
While Japanese asked 7 Samurai what the Bleep* Ken Wilber was to do..
So forth the ride is funny when the wise men are about to calm the rapid writing down
Then I can come home for money which the rich men will pay me for being a literary clown.
Only Death
Only death can accomplice the accomplice
To the greatest theft of all time
Settlers of the sting of the century
All money in the Cloud with Rishi’s rhyme.
Who is Sunak when the lights go out next year
No conscience and no wife to insult the Queen?
Who is Sai Baba hiding his life
,
When Chris Cornell is where the idol worshippers have been?
How will England grow without her own staff?
Enrique Moses bowls crap compared to the past.
Why do you smoke weed with Bill Gates?
To measure one long generation only to caste?
It is because of the sadism and the masochistic mum
The actress who taught Mrs and Mr to Radha Krishna
Then the moon turns and the tide draws near
When centuries are counted and not scored in India.
Click.
Click.
Slog.
Boom!
Mentalisms
I’m not that kind of poet
The type that times the earth
I know where I have come from
It’s just not that kind of worth.
I’m angry with the children
They won’t listen to what I’ve got to say
And by the time I get a hold of them
I don’t write about The Gay.
Who wants to know where Jesus is hiding?
Who wants to see Muhammed’s disrespect?
Who thinks Guru Nanak can have an equal?
Who likes Krishna to love some regret?
Maybe that is the continuance
The meaning of life for the 21st Century
What happened when Eliot befriended Krishna?
And wasted lands for his alliance with Sannyasi.
Tomorrow’s plans may spring from an asset stripped 1980s
When Kryon was a stranger to Enron too.
Where Americans face the final ultimatum from Ron
Live without the Newspapers or your politicians are through.
Where’s my Minority Report, Mr Malthus Cruise?
And those tapes of cassettes from Mini Discs of the CDs I was meant to become…
A land like India so clothed in respect for the native
Something for anyone to lecture on anything sitting on their bum.
So God bowled me over and let me be the top wicket taker
At school I played in goal and stopped cricket scores
Before being a “demon on the west wing in Hockey”.
Some fames were therefore for me & my brother played cricket for County.
… [insert Dream here]
But then we arise on his 50th birthday
A brother with no goals and lots of self respect
Responsibility for his younger and pains for his mum near death
Wandering like a ghostless plain close to his last breath.
Is it true the Rohan did not think the cousins warred
And fought like the white man to make the cemetery closer
For sex with the gang banging ginger and the necrophiliac in The Big Bang Theory
As cousin Amar throws our grades away….
What will be our saying?
Who will be our friends?
When can we call the real Time Out?
When shall we dance again?
So the monks journeyed for aeons
Lost in pain to grieve the stats
In Scientology since two brothers left them
And R J Ellory was king for a day.
One
Two
Three
Four
Is that a Hindu or a Paki knocking at my door?
Resident in England but 40 years
So certain of tattoo art for all his tears.
How can I quit drinking?
Where is the detox jokes at Rohan now..
How many Jack Daniels do you dream of: For that petri dish wife petrified of her karma and how?
[Release]
Wild Stage 