judaism

That’s All She Is

/ rrishi99 / Leave a comment

40 going on a century
Lifeless going on married
A wheelchair bound hysterectomy of worldly goods
Commerce gone wrong in the gang banging of elders.
#missionaryposition
#missingpeople
revenge in the noble gaseous realms
potential in the mystical spin of quantum mechanics

menacing
frightening
a loser on the streets of Northfield while the negroes stalk me alone.
::>> Why can’t I have my own home?
Where is the easel for the greatest Art down below the heavenly line?
When is His time?
when will he cum again?

A shared narrative loser of time
Searching for the right women to find
Headscarves for and against the HIJAB that beckons the BBC couch
Explain to me this advancement and why your lipstick says “ouch”
To, the wrinkles on my face
A YouTube collage on my face explaining American life
Ghosts and the 13 Shoguns of history
Delirium and mechanising my school run
Dinner off the table – before you shoot the X-Box gun.

When the Guru comes?
Will he outshine the Christ?
Is his yellow skin still white?
What is the cost of his repetitive strain?

Emo-kids on the brain
Rugby versus Football for a shot at understanding my kids
The latent homosexual glide into the next man’s shorts
Playing around with staying around
Alive until he smiles again
Under the glum glum could of the internet white lightening.
Flashes of orgasmic sex in the underwear of some dressing down from his mate’s of his
Listing the virtues of putting down a woman
Good for nothing but economic ruin
Ruining the runes
Blowing the cocks
Rinsing the Rabbis
Spending the day in a daze while the numbers and statistics spin around the business stories…
You don’t say this about me
All we need is LGBT
Loyalty to the Rupee
Dissent against the Dollar
Yang to the Japanese Yen
China –

  • Lost China
  • A World Within a Spiral
  • Dynamics in the Universities
  • Specialness in the Kung Fu Mastery of binary opposition to the now
  • Meditations for machinery generation of the mind for enlightenment
  • Communist State Power versus Socialist/ Capitalist gay conspiracies
  • Novel things for a non Novel-writing spasm on the great cosmic ripple of time that is earth
  • Giving birth in the hospital room
  • “you are like me” (NHS Solicitor)

Back down
650 laws
600+ British Politician sex
The Jew in his home in Israel
Asks the blessed Angel Schmuel for help.

The Englishman raged again
The tiny island
Treasure to some
Tired supermarkets on Saturday afternoons to others
cars
brothers
war mongerers

distant lonely longing for a day of peace with National Geographic
An evidence of the black mirror
Watching the watched
Hanuman is glossing over the Chalisas again
All that praise for Raam’s Emmanuelle strain.

There it is (strain) again

-29/07/2023

Unemployed Man

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Unemployed man
Terrified Middle Eastern caravan
Travelling the international routes
With my mind
With my mind
Gaining military support
Looking at DWP reports
Checking our nigger Sociology
Setting Barack Hussein free.

What’s an Obama to the Unibomber
And a reraise from Phil Ivey
Possible poison to the Christians I see
And the malevolence growing from the jealous young ones in the pews.
They don’t like the rhythm in you
They don’t like you’re fitting in
They don’t like your connection with the Jew
The one with the blonde hair who tried to care…

Something for the racists to walk about and stare at
One man crowds in Weoley Castle from me shouting at Abishek all aloud
So easy to predict like a Sambrook trail of shit on our streets
So young and so fashionable with Russell Brand’s karma
The Beatles will harm her again.
The Beatles will kill Bruce Lee again
And Mr Paul Paki will never set these streets free.

For who was he when my father was driving?
Who was he when my father was cooking alone?
How did the police discriminate against him then and upon what grounds
As their radios played crap music and Oasia rolled on along the charts with Blur.

#itsallfittingin for the size of the Indian yogi tin
As they lecture on the parts of lyrics fair
For the words I would not learn.
Don’t ask me how Beethoven moves
You called British, that’s what that language proves.

Don’t ask me to celebrate Operatic performances,
They’re in London, far away from my mother.
Keep them for the thespians in London who don’t spend their money on their own culture in London
As my rhymes don’t please them
Better than Shakespeare in the 1600s – who’s been rewriting that and keep them out of the stocks, wickets and crowds?

How do they spend their money when Gordon Brown is allowed..
{Free reign over any pussy he likes!}
London is full of dykes and not the fit sort on American Porn
Madonna won’t tell the truth about the Spirit that helped her spawn
Music better than the tripe she shovelled to invading niggers in her older years.

Dancing on ice is what she needs to fear!
Slip ups and staged catastrophes
“One thing for me” and the Queen nearly resigned at 93…
Saving Private Charles is now Matt Damon to me
With Ben Affleck hiding tall dark and manufactured.
What time is the 6 o clock shadow Mr Ordinary Man
And where did you stash that cash in the walls for Mr Amitabh Bachchan?

So party on dudes and cause some rucus if you dare.
The streets of England and fair Birmingham City –
Come on you Blues!
Come on you Blues!
BLOOOO ARMEEEEEEE!
BLOOOOO ARMEEEEEE!

  • They are George Clooney and Ryan Reynolds aware.

The Hollow Case

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Transcendental idealism
Dissociation of Spirit
Dislocation of man
Modern reachings
I am dreams
Am I the dream?
I am the dreamer
This is Vanity Fair’s passing.

Clouds that don’t know about me
Falling through empty cities
Colluding with grandeur for my heir
Asking of nothingness for a heritage
Turn the page
Find me without sages
Lost in a sacred trance
Cosmic shambles and Kailash’s dance.

Dream
Therapy
Concluding that all is error and fix.

I am the river of life
A monster vomiting a stomach crunch
Buy me lunch
Pay for my coffee
It’s all within me
It’s all about me
Rush to the hurrying
Hari is upon you
If I don’t see Shiva
Will you free me from the (hollow caused) Jew?

Women Sell Handbags

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Women sell handbags
They walk down the lane
They trade in their penny lifestyles
To start with rebirth again.
They fashion the reminiscence
They market the free distress
They trend the social media
They find out about our mess.

The merchandise flies off the shelves
The shop keeper is smiling, he is happy
But when she gets home from her shopping
She won’t forget to change her husband’s son’s nappy.
This way keeps the retail turning over
Far from the man-exec with all his balance sheets
Profit and loss for The Prophet Muhammed
And the fine mind of an impartial Jew on Baker Street.

These are some of the people we meet
When the med let into their secrets away from home.
So get me down the garden without my wallet
And let’s go back upstairs to trade online for Garden Gnomes.

New(s) Traffic

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Stalemate
There’s water on the Thames
The same misunderstanding again
The unwritten Latin is lain on the fences
Where the Oxen cross the ford
And lay the leg-up to The Legitimate.

There are ways forward that nobody discusses
As the reliant on the News are forbidden access
To forthcoming influences
And nudges from the evil empire.
Pyre
& Omens.

The confusion that will reign when the Spanish King resigns
Is not the forbidden knowledge for the Sixth Form College
As the print media churches out matters for them
And leaves the 60-year-old behind to “WAKE UP!”
: Shut the Fuck Up, Fat Cat
: {There are ways of speaking politely}
Execute this on a Boardroom floor,
With Michael Jackson {*Moonwalking*} on top of it.

Duh
Disdh
Duvh
Discdh
… is not my luRrRrv-AH!

That was about it
The long, the thick and the thin of it.
And nothing was left to do but embellish it
For the devil in the Literati
Who wanted a new Review (?)
And some sandals underfoot, so they too could be called loathed.
Greek Boats
Ships parading the innocence of havens
Slaves to yoga trekkers in the Pune and Punjab
Between the loins of the ladies of the lavishly outlaid in the London lewd lardy dah.

That will go far,
When the censors kick in and block the blockages even further: –
Charring Cross and the man stranded with Naipaul
(…“is that all???!”)
It’s all I know this afternoon: It was studying for the L.P.C.

Jury’s are in and out of the place
Like magical Nike on Mace
And the emanating nuisance of intention
Is the virginal maiden’s purity invention.

My mother did Yoga too.
Does that mean she’s on the Freshie’s Boat with the (Jew) in you?
Who’s balancing those oars;
When the ores in South Africa have not made it through?

Note:
“… she’s just a girl who said that I am not the one”

Species All

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Sometimes it is like
Other times the ties come true
Then there is a monetary matter
So I can see right through you.

Mr All Ready, Stripes and some Black and Blue!
What about all that time spent sitting on your arse!
You should have been outside with the cars
And the men you seek to set aside again.

This is not for me and that is not for you
Three times 20 makes you an Israel Lobby crew
And I am not going down there for you
To rescue you rescuing me rescuing you…

… in the past, from Levant,
Where the ticket knows no stamp
And the Good Lord is proud
Of talking about Circumcisions from 1000s of years ago
… what a medical Bravado
When I want to go and watch the show
And he knows best about men and the rebirth of Time.

Some stowaway you seemed to become
Lost on the Ocean of Suffering like a beggar
Needing money so he talked to the empty chair
And found that nobody, not even Tony Robbins, stared.

“!I am! Alone! I said!” I said to my Online Computer Chair.
So What>! Fuck Off. Me too
That’s what it is to Sempa Phi the ol’ Red White and Blue
Then you will see that what is for me is also for you
Mr special Yogi with a career like a train wreck asking for more to do.

Order It Again

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In order to build order
Find out what the disorder did to you.
When there is water let there be dryness
If you find your Highness is too much of a blow for you.

They called him a King who dwelt on the most high
And left him with a poet who lost his script when the ink was dry –
That is the first difference between me and you:
That is the difference between a Cross and a Jew.

There are letters that say how I have been feeling
When the wire is tapped so the walkers are reeling

From their orgasms and manic spasms in the left of the Fall
When Autumn knows no conversation in the old Mordan Hall.
Sell my your cough as you walk repeated and reappear
Like a mirror from the Magic Mandrake who’s Magi is near
To the salesman who’s bonus means a full meal for the family and all
When the Summertown is not dunces town with a wheely bin for the Ball.

Next to me is the whisperer and the Clothed Dagger of the magic pen
Saying “Again!”
“Again!”
Where is the writer’s brain?
Straining, like a refraining, draining on the containment of time,
Again…

Mr 2 Write

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There are things you say I should not say
Like sorry to the hedges I cut on the way
When I sold my shares initially in sorrow
To buy my way out of footsie for tomorrow.

I’m the best, my nation said so
That’s the way that one’s got to go.
#AndWhenImDone there’s nothing left to do
Except folly and old fortune for the Armada Hampstead crew.

Battle me this and cohabitate me with the vacuum that:
Where is the honesty in the open handed approach to the road :-
The road east of Vancouver where the radio check is preapproved
Like a beer t-shirt ripped open for the cover of Summit recovered.

Too easy to shin and far over the older beard to shine
There is a head where the coupling will be diners.
It’s not all sandwiches at Waitrose when the beat is on the minute;
Leave me an iPod when you get the time to be on a zillion.

My Henry Kissinger and that’s the top hat blown
Like the Top Hotel we have not shown with all the shows on far from Noam.
Is there any cover left for the car he is bereft off having not shown foam
For the parties he carries a tune for. Mr Canary and the way back home.

From Siam I have flown and known the airport underneath my feet
Where the Jetstream is some cold cleaners and Mr Sheen for the Air Host’s feat
To jump so many moons to keep up with those Shrooms
And whatever did not Clear while Florida kept Ron Hubbard with Martin Clunes.

Underground with the dune buggies and up top where the hatch is blown
So much more the Saviour, so much more the way back home.
Something for me and something for you
A way to the routine in Jalandhar for the coded cabin crew.

Something for me and something for you
Take anything you like from the top shelf: I’m done with the quarterback Jew.

For the Right to Suffer

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For the right to suffer
I forgive
For the right to survive
You’ll live
When the countenance is divine
You’ll be relieved
By the face of The Jesus that they saved.

Ravers, liberators, pill poppers
Usher – You Make Me Wanna be a Drug Pusher.
Supported by The Obama Plan
Two weeks long and Jerusalem’s gone:
Good Curriculum, love Noam.

For the right to speak
You can Tweet.
For the right to drink
You can think.
But if you want to orgy
Cum/ Come over
And we’ll buy a man a lorry
For some old age pull overs.

Shavers, sock wearers and computer consumer
Fine dining lovers.
The Drop Zone is set
Israel with regret
When Egypt is Bobba Fett
For Chinese bounties and Bollywood MILF Hunters.
Cunts and their midriff sauntering
Down fashion aisles for Sheikhs bartering:
Don’t you know the Bar is open late tonight
I need something to read that don’t make a male like me so uptight.

Grafters, laughter, high beam balancers
Draught beer and some shut up ya’shakes!
I got the shakes
I need some more tapes
The YouTube is too quick
For me to slip because of Mr Slick.

For the right to conscience
Con Science
For the right to liberty
Find me nice:

I’ll be a Native American India(n) for the Jews
When you say this poem is for Mata to review, too.