krishna

DWP Man

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Engaging in some Home Improvement
Studying the round
Shooting the breeze
They are all on the phone
If you please.

Separate me from the carnival
Call me R.E.M. on the road
Looking away from the trip
Catch me up some British quips.

They knew I would be good at not a lot
Catch
Snatch
Watches
Models of Tag Hauser on New Street
Tim Hortons from Baker Street.

Chant your Hare Krishna
Spare the third wheel of Dharma’s seal of approval
Speak English when the mood takes you
Utter Hindi
Napoleon Valley

Hook Ups
Not the tight right time answering to stereotypes
To look up and not see the light in sex
Scenes from the 80s is where I have been
Not the taught courses from 2000s Porn
Warnings
Shaun of the Sheep (IMDb) for Sean
How about Siobhan?
Will she moan when the time is right
About the right to work and all those lights
Switching on and off as the meditator is medicator
Elected for their own tests at Boots.

Get on your own fruit
And salad the brain
For some angry refrains
About the business classes again
Who stole your DNA strain.

12 Strand Light Body
Star Charts
Where was your art

Branson C.B.E. astrology
Pickle-Rushdie-Ology
Time to take the pis
And see what the kidney brings
When the liver is dead inside the home
Body seeing things that the mind can’t bring home

“That’s why they call it home”
He said when he was on the mobile phone
Looking for an evolutionary pizza
After some slamming poetry
Add the insignia : Know Thyself
And the Andness will be witty with a connective
To thine own Elf be a ruse.

Lord of the Rings (IMDb)
The Land of Rohan
The raise of Akaash
The I-sight of Rishi
This one is on me.

Suck Sex

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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.

Die Cot & Me

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The dichotomy does not concern me
Between me, myself and … … …
I said two things
So many to count on earth
You’d think something would give it worth
All the Muslim spoiler alerts.
#that’ssomethingforAziz
And the “BATTERY!!” in True Lies (IMDb)
4 sweet things for Krishna
Butter! If you please.
Save the time for the alloy wheels
And all those Limousines for Lakshmi
It’s either steel or it’s an ore
To get to know two turtle doves integrated On the level playing field  OFPlanetEarth

Zaqat Went Splat

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Did you believe the world was this way?
The way the wildness inside of you did not say
That you need a woman like a woman needs a man
To satisfy the hotel room with coffee after an okay plan.

See, the outside world is such an egregious affair
I have my legs wilder than that in the outrageous air
Modelling Hollywood and L A Style as if I have savoir fare.

Three line whips, lots of chains of bondage
Alfonso Bhandari is there with your immature soul cage
Selling the shambles of brambled apples and some granny’s rage.

Voter! You are no daughter – with the hotel quartered
Entrance from a Hollywood master and his debutant blaster
For money and vermillion so that Iraqi can know first ladies
And squillions and zillions and bazillions after Tony Blair’s trillions.
Master Blaster – unable to hold the camera’s gaze
After raunchy Knights have held up erectile Counts
Far from the Paige’s and their confusion about the purple Ronnie
And how about some Blue Peter for yours truly and that fucking Konnie?!

Ropes and whistles and then there is some shouting matches
For the prettiest Oriental to sing me some blues
About Krishna’s curtains after he has been through the hue
Of cry and Laurel and Hardeep for that original truth:
To thine own self be avant-garde so that Spirit is doubled
#WhentheDevilknowsyourlonely and youthful mother is in trouble.

Krishna Colouring Books

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I used to work at the British Heart Foundation and around Christmas time I was in the stock cupboard sorting out the books when I noticed how many Christmas books there were. There were so many books aimed at children that it makes me think how far behind we lag in literary stakes in the Indian community. We have now had a British Asian Prime Minister, so if there are any serious questions about our national identity and heritage we can ask him, or at least point as if we are capable of his merits. But what would it take to have some Krishna colouring books. Native images of Rama and Shiva; to see the delight of children colouring Ganesh? Why stop there? There is Little Krishna at ISKCON and he is playing with white kids; so why can’t they have children books that have imaginative art work and are large scale with the permission given to pass them on. We Hindus suffer from as many health problems as Christians do and may have problem getting access to decent holistic treatments with the onset of western medication lacking roots with which to talk to us about our post-colonial status and really find out how we are doing on a day to day basis. What if we don’t like football or support the Beckhams, does that mean we have to Bend It Like Christmas Karma, the movie? We have problems letting the past go that can not be seen and gaining access to literature aimed at children would be one way of helping this cause. What do you think? Can you think of reasons not to publish cartoon books of Sita and Lakshmi? Does Indian archaeology have a say in the depiction of our glorious Gods and Goddesses? Is it a matter for erotica and are we doomed to hold on to past energies and find ourselves on the receiving end of medical inspections and questions without answers and answers without questions? The publishing industry was fought for in the United Kingdom and we as Indians are still dealing with Shree Book. There used to be a book shop on the Soho Road in Handsworth where Sikh books were priced at up to £100 and over – so what is the catch and where are these discussions being had? Who is deciding what is important about the postcolonial sketch and what are the long term artistic features of integration and holistic meditation on these factors governing the British Asian diaspora, their families and all their friends who work so hard to put their culture on show at weddings, where family is the centre piece of the religion of Hinduism but the children start out life so one sided and emphasising one side of the brain? Social media now hosts Instagram and all those flashing lights and images so there is hope that these stagnant waters can be moved on.

Albion’s Wheel of Suffering and Liberation

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I. The Turning of the Wheel

The pilgrim walks with all who spin,
Bound by craving, loss and sin,
The wheel revolves, desire and fear,
~ Estrangement whispers, ever near.

II. Brigid’s Hearth – Ignorance to Flame

From childhood’s school, the fire is lit,
Ignorance breaks as wisdom sits,
Her Celtic hearth, a spark of sight,
The wheel turns slowly into light.

III. Lima’s Lantern – Aversion to Calm

Where sorrow bends, her lantern glows,
Aversion yields, compassion flows,
The pilgrim learns through Lima’s hand,
The wheel turns turns gently, makes a stand.

IV. Burial Grounds – Desire to Release

Among the graves, desire is stilled,
The pilgrim sees what time has killed,
Yet every name, a seed of peace,
The wheel turns onward, chains release.

V. Cathedrals and Castles – Pride to Humility

High articles fall to humble knees,
Grey towers bow to Albion’s seas,
The pilgrim learns that pride must fade,
The wheel turns soft, the path is made.

VI. Shree Geeta Bhawan – Dharma’s Song

Krishna’s chant, the mantra flows,
The pilgrim hears what Dharma knows,
The wheel turns true, the song is one,
Albion shines with India’s sun.

VII. Gabriels’s Door – Confession to Renewal

Estrangement hurled, a bitter stain,
Yet thresholds break, and doors can gain,
Confession seeds the pilgrim’s song,
The wheel turns right, estrangement gone.

VIII. The Djinn – Shadow to Insight

The Djinn may haunt with dear and night
But chanting breaks their shadow’s bite,
The pilgrim sees through darkness thin,
The wheel turns clear, the light within.

IX. Buddhist Dharma – Suffering Shared

The Buddha’s light turns Albion’s wheel,
Through suffering’s fire, the wounds can heal,
Estrangement bends, yet Dharma sings,
And Albion walks with liberated kings.

X. EnlightenNext – Evolutionary Awakening

Not mine alone, the path is shared,
A future calls, a world prepared,
Collective chant, the soul’s ascent,
The wheel turns forward, EnlightenNext.

XI. Liberation – Albion’s Chant

Through suffering’s fire, compassion grows
Through emptiness, the river flows,
The pilgrim walks, the wheel turns still,
Albion chants: the Dharma’s will.

XII. The Masters in English – Knowledge to Vision

Through Oxford’s halls the pilgrim read,
Texts of fire, words of bread,
The Masters’ ink, the scholar’s page,
Turned estrangement into sage.

XIII. The PhD – Depth to Circle

The wheel descended, deeper still,
Research carved by patient will,
Yet every thesis, every line,
Was Albion’s soil, a mythic sign.

XIV. The Return – Autobiographer’s Song

From scholar’s desk to pilgrim’s stage,
The circle closed, the mythic page,
No longer study, but living lore,
Albion speaks – estranged no more.

Pilgrimage Poem

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At Five Ways I learned discipline,
Study became prayer,
Questions became scripture.
The classroom was my chapel,
The assembly my liturgy.
What began as grammar,
Became gospel,
Preparing me for pilgrimage.

At Oxford I walked among spires,
Philosophy became psalm,
Poetry became prophecy.
In cloisters of silence,
I wrestled with faith and doubt,
each essay a sermon
each lecture a hymn.
The scholar’s lamp burned,
yet beneath it,
the Spirit whispered.

At St Brigid’s I first learned hymns,
Childhood voices rising in chant,
Ritual shaping memory,
Catholic flame in Northfield’s soil.
Brigid watching me with healing eyes,
Preparing me for testimony,
For prophecy,
For Albion’s renewal.

And then I returned,
To Birmingham’s churches,
To Elim’s Pentecostal fire,
To Alpha’s questions,
To hymns remembered at St Brigid’s.
I read the Bible entire,
Guided by Got Questions,
East meets West,
Krishna’s chant met Christ’s gospel.
Renewal sang through me,
And I stood not as seeker,
But as guru,
Bearing light through rupture,
Chanting testimony into England’s soil.

Poetic Fragment

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Four years I chanted Hare Krishna,
Flame upon flame,
Each name a bridge to the divine.
Fifty times I walked the Gita,
Arjuna’s trembling, Krishna’s gaze –
My own dharma unfolding,
I entered the 108 Upanishads,
Not as scholar,
But as seeker,
Each verse a mirror,
Each silence a guide.

Posture

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The sexual guilt is not even
Until the parties are so sure of revenge,
That laden hosiery of the fashion of bitch endedness
And advert masculinity for straight spines and book ends.

The lay man went to the auction
He was trying to buy a house for a set,
But the rhetoric was not painted as fast as some charts
For the price of his dog at the Vets.

It’s all good demure
The manure from Hare Krishna
An arable land for a job with your hand
When they waddles like Hobbits for robotic luck.

Fires in the hole
An army to unfold
Perfect posture from Bhagwan
So they can enjoy Playboy and the Can Can
: Can I do Cannes, Bapu?

< It’s up to you!
Zindabad
& a Zinger Burger for your ivory tower
Cap in the ass
Valedictorian pass
Stale bays of hay
Van Gogh was not Monet.

And then the travel turned to ship the Mind away so kindly
To when there was a time for time to speak of instruction
Injustice was met by fantasy another way
And the English were not Light Workers while the Americans were gay.
India
Indra
Inimitable
Controlled greed
Houses with trending Feeds >> +1 and Guest.
Who is the top gun in the MEST Universe
When Colon is vials of blood for Niggers to make poo from Elmer Fud?
Nig Nig Nig Nig NIGGER
Make a little wrapping for me!

And when you go back home to Arkansas
Make a shit out of a Whopper for three in Chelsea @WhatConanTheBarbarian.Planned.Had
There is so much to balance
So a sword of such might
In the possibility of some sweet Romance
For a generation to have such flight.
But the mention seems to have been
Millions all round, all over the world
And a Billion Rupee dream
For the right skin tone with all the girls.

Something like that
Rather flat at the footstep of my bed on the floor of some mornings
About concern for how the other half live
When I have only so much sugar to give
To Paul Simon who lives down the road in a hall
And I have the gallows in my mentality
To blog his toilet seat into Ruud Gullit.
What a dog to maul for a spirit in a material world
Liking the girls like A.I. likes an uneven rhyme –
It’s not a literary crime, to be a Policeman
When the band stands at 7 and the Tattoo is for the Queen’s Jubilee.
Aye!
The Ayes have it
And it was a wondrous affair.
Charlemagne and Viscount Mint Worthy stopped by too
To name something under the wearing thin of names to drink with.

Study, affair, debonair
It’s all the same when the windy vindication seeks past him.
Trust and some Bombay Saphire – the very good Gin.
Blue from a baby market
Old than Morten Harket.
The omission of Literary Coins
Standing ovations for symbolic loins
The merry hand of creditable Cert.
Scroll down to where you are William Hurt.

Cuming and going like a pAsEDenA railway
Jobless through Identity Fraud
Because the Chips were Ahoy at the end of the road.
What happened to the load?
Where did the Time go?
What is this loss that is not Boss in BombayAGoa-i-Stan
For the Boa Constrictor to trick you that the Anaconda was sssssecond best.

Royal Python
Filthy Nylon
Hammers and Tongs
The Niggers won’t be long.
Slam, Dunk and Be Merry
Don’t forget about Cherie!

She’ll be first to speak some of her good English
About what happened to Shami Chakrabarti…
…
…
…
And the hours rolled on like a long Song
An Elegy was played while the Choirs saved Hymns
And His Story was a Miss Story for the muddle in a cage
When Mrs Moore got so bored that they had torn out that page.
…
… Literary Rage : Roads to Drive with R.E.M.
… Come again loaded with Kurt
And sell a Mag with your gun up your bum for a Buckwheat to hurt
Buddha and his roll away crew,
Not induced by Colonel Colonialism to parade such obfuscations left of centre
When The Really Wild Show would do.
…
… And the winds rolled over the mountains
And nobody came back for Tea
So a Queen could work for 70 years
And have some very common and cumupence cumulative company
By comparison to the Samaritan they told at the Sheraton for some Hilton’s investments
And some ACDC.
Why can’t Napolean blow apart Andrew Chohan Odin Deepak Chopra for a gang bang with Anabel Chong
For a MILF’s lonely talented Song.
… On and on, like a pirate pirouetting for some rogue verse
Unaware of the need to hurt
And save a Laandan Town of Angus and his friends
For divinity to find a new job in The Strand for where Botox is not played.

“Like Alexander”
(They never measured your spine to her Socrates speak)
So like “The Great”?????????????????????????…….
(Put one on your dick to wank off so hard you won’t cum black for a week)
Masters of ineffable miles
Tasters of Ganesh’s piles of Ladoos
“I’ll buy one for you in Leicester Square!”
When she has read what is really The Coloured on her lazy hair.
Affairs.
Rats.

Scientology Hats.
Immigration dismissed.
People still old, famous and getting on with The Pissed.
Let’s get pissed!
Let’s get lashed!
Let’s get wasted!
A Billion view l8er.

Lay Hate to hRhEr Heroes of Violator

The End.

Pay Tree Ark

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When the good debt was folded
And the sacred bird had flown
There was one who was Awake
Top of the hat to his own.

They called him Jeff and let him ride
So far to the other side
That the mentionables were kept afloat
By the shopping he did around the moat.

The moat they built in the past
When Canary Wharf was not going to last
Because his kind kindly sung to the Police
Of knowledge that left them fucking Analese,

[Remind me how to spell @ When his witches are in Hell]
, another one of his little fertile girls
Showing me the balance of Time
For the rhythm of a rhyme
And how to Hare Krishna power=share just fine.

Krishna is just fine, thanks for asking
Rama will be grateful for his Shabba Ranks, canal driven man
Down the Maine Street with the Wilberforce treats
Stuck in a traffic jam no matter what Lady Marmalade says next.

That’s EnlightenNext: Up and off there for some Techno=Fest
Costing the coasting Guru Nanak some Repo action
For all his fancy foot action
What was it? At the end of the day….
…
…
Sigh No More and Sai Baba is gone
What was the pleasure in losing his song.

One
Two
And not Zee
Maybe the Charmed twins got up to three?
Who was the Guru – who was the Pen?
When will the showtime get back to the Penitentiary
Internationally Amnesty International planned by me
To settle the nettles on the floor for more than £10.

Come down to laughing out loud
Om Shanti to the quoting men
Speak to batallions raised from the streets
Chant wildly of Ken Wilber eating out Chinese food whenever his old age
Walks
Talks
On all fours
The Missing Link
Guru & some smelly pink socks on The Big Think
Call me a PhD
Watch me Pee
“Can I have a P please Bobby?”
There is friction between us in The Sea.

Fraternity
The final filial piety
Count slowly as you walk away from me
That the hour passes slowly from when we die.
Too shy
Too rich
Too regal
Such a bitch!
Why would you WAG
When you could Hag,

And The Chase screened to Manhatten
The Questions you would like?
Back to Jeff and old man Bally
Down the Classy Junction
For some Gurdijeff and Gurdwara function.
But time is not so kind to all and this is a time to the Recorder
So that when action is in inaction and Jazbaa is spoken
The Fake Alexander is O’Neils at last for some New World Order.