new age romanticism

Description

/ rrishi99 / Leave a comment

Comparison was made
The elevation was laid
Screwers were implanted
In the torture chamber of my heart.
The art of At-ness
With a loss from Atlas
Only those who spoke well
Could dip their ink in the right spoken well
Like an unrepeated clause
Of those who train animals on all fours
To fight their fights.
The word: FIGHT. Removed.
Beloved in the bereavement
There is no deceiving
In the relieving of a nation trembling
Before the Department of Darrow and Work and Pensions.
Obama is hollow
The crow is said twice
Judas is a Christian Creationism
And Reverend Wright knows the Telos of 9/11.
The world, meanwhile, Created:
Soppy poetry
Debates
2012 – Donald ducked “the greatest”.
I was not there, he said
She said
They rhymed
Children went to bed.
Churchill was sponsor-ed
And a Queen kept her head
Stamp
Duty
Free
Fiefdom.
The aim of land with Earl was not Pearls
The loan of aloneness from Rohan was girls.
Tolls from Eckhart Tolle were akin to the kindness
Of a Dalai Lama with blindness for the Sex On The Beach
Out of reach
Just in range
The EU has lightbulbs again
Environmental frames
Glasses and champagne
Add some sarcasm for a change
Jobs are rearranged
[Some employment]
Careers are for carers
Now is the time of our discontent
That is what Chinese Human Rights must have meant
Ties and blithe remains
And days with the sun overhead are ahead.
It is time to find out what that means instead
Of some fashion show offs on Instgrammar…
… WTF?!
Do you stammer at Kyle Jenner
100 Million remembers
Change you can believe in
D – J
Are you in? with the Royal Djinn
Or do you woke with some Bombay Sapphires
And dreams of A.K.A. Awakener, Enlightener and 2020 Messiah
And handled John Barry the Jerk Chicken worker?

Mothers were creed
When the lathering was feed
Before The Times was split
Between the newness of York.

Can the girls of Manhattan know the Stork?
Is there time for a Long Island Ice Tea when Twinning is bezerk?
How do your stocks grow when I was not facing my books?
Do you send love to Golum for the riddle of my looks?

Honour
Cheese
Gimp
Fried Food
China-Man.

It’s all the same to me.

The race war turned racist
When colours left TV.

There was no room for me
I was in for some gentility
Maths, Cosmology and my A.B.C.
Leave a light on
There was a cooler on Radio 3.
R. Kelly had that vibe at the Wolverhampton Civic Hall
And Mica Paris my One Temptation when Birmingham was Town Hall
Midge Ure was Symphonic for some Pure {John Doe} Love
And Larry Adler predated strip and search on Broad Street with his Harmonic Convergence and sound of a glove.

TDK
Are you P.K.?
Can India play?
Or has Lagaan had the day?
Judgement and the Iraq karma –
War Reports and no lady’s dharma
Stammer
I might rush your love
Could you get me to  a coronary
Some ice would go well this Insurance is swell.


Hey! You’ve got to hide your love away
I might sponsor the Dalai Lama some day.

|Word.

A mean man
I get the concept
A better man
I’ll see what I can do
A higher woman
I can’t believe he did that
The lowest sort
Namaste and Namashkar.

Salute that sun: For the love of God is The Son of Man
England’s plan
Jame’s band
Blur is bland
Oasis has the upper hand
And it’s swears all at glands. Psychiatry’s (P)land
And the Lord lost his Houses to the wand…

… The wanderer returns
Poetry is burned & truth is found in the proof of un-ignored success.
You’re not the best: You’re the best
Ireland was my land when the IRA knew Channel2
Too few
James Joyce’s crew
This is not your land for Ronnie O’Sullivan to be an anti-semitic Jew.

|Jokes\ 🙂

If you mention my name
I will mention my fame
And the game of your lame
Is a claim to my name.
Did you get my name?
It’s my name.
Are you looking at me: Or did you use my name?
Facebook City
Sheffield is pretty
The Crucible is reunited with friends that burned the 1990s.


147HERE WE GO!!!!!
HERE WE GO!!!!!147
HERE WE GO!!!!!
147

There you go.

It’s {*Punch*}:Keith Richards
Where’s my Crash Bang Wallop for the Wop in the Playboy Mansion?

Cliffs of Albion were made in marble
So that Elysium could stumble before time.
When Psychology was a study before the sands of grand teachers
There was masters who knew no boundary.
Thus spoke the higher Time
FIND THE CRIME: and add Para-Paedophile time
To the speedos of £100 Million for an Mi5 go @ the News
Afghani / Guantanamo rowing crew.
This is not for you
Every review
Hold of pension pots
And a black man’s Presidential Library
Rotting away in the darkness of Cassius Clay
(laughing)
Did “Michael” get?

Marry the harm that life does
Find the calmness that Arjuna does
Know the barney after Marijuana does a marry
And sell the man for Monroe to know his army.

If a family cannot know poetry
Then the mathematics of tyranny are free.
So look upon these verses with a spacious smile for race and ethnicity
Robbie Quatrain may not come so easily to the Iambic in me.

Mothers were made for mothers to know parts
Before States cooked up boiling plates and other dark arts.
Sell me a celebrity worth words on 2011
And I’ll know Bart Simpson for their children’s reinvented and disguised heaven.

Where are the hundreds and thousands?
Where is the icing on the cake?
How can you smile in a cage for the soul:
That cusses the rights of .removing. William Blake?

Cancerous lecherous child of the light
Look upon the dump trucks of industrialisation with individual delight
And find Jerusalem absent a fathom after 1612
(1642. What is the music in you?)
When Colombus was as real as your beard and the sting in your tail. A book on the Prince’s delight
Might ignite the mighty to fall
For the Fall of Man all over again
And what is wrong with saying hello to my Colombia’s Falkland’s little friend(s)

Anti Christ

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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.

AI Summary

The poem explores the tension between spiritual longing and cultural collapse in a world dominated by spectacle, war, identity politics, and the commodification of everything from religion to sexuality. The speaker moves through England, India, Pakistan, China, and the West, weaving together references to drones, Sati, Fitzgerald, Desdemona, and modern media to show how history and myth have been flattened into entertainment. Beneath the satire lies a deeper grief: the sense that humanity has lost its centre, that faith has become fashion, and that the poet is left to navigate a world where mastery and misery coexist in every line. The poem ends with a recognition that the 21st century is loud, confused, and spiritually thin — yet still full of people trying to read, love, dance, and survive.

Chief

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I used to ground the chief
Searching high and low
Relaxing on the cricket pitch
Things in hell for bad people down below.
I wanted to know the answer
Beyond heaven’s mere innocent representation –
People spent in movies and Apocalypse
Versions on armies on TV in their nations.
What is the meaning of life,
From Royal Patrons to a lonely boy at school?
Taking life too seriously
For economics with the women at Uni – a lonely fool.
Where is the answer going to come from
In the texts of the English literary canon?
The wisest men and sometime women consenting
To examination in Final Honours School.
Lusting after the listed virtues of fame and honour
Consequenting the frequencies of despair
Prompting me to sometime grow it long
Otherwise I was off to shave my hair.
They called it the ineffable and made it into Christianity
Things I could do and things I cannot see.
Now it is moved to the popular population
So some may dance with it in the flame of Spirituality.

So I am undone and found out – merchandised to the futures of the investment class
Sometimes they think of me running the race and finding out things last
A computer for him and every child one day they will say
Until the time has come forth for this merriment to dry up and go away.

AI Summary

The poem reflects on a lifelong search for meaning — from childhood imaginings of heaven and hell to the intellectual rigour of the English literary canon — and the disappointment of discovering that neither religion, academia, nor society offers the clarity they once promised. The speaker recalls taking life too seriously, feeling lonely at university, and chasing wisdom through books and spiritual traditions, only to find these systems increasingly commercialised and hollow. The poem mourns the loss of innocence and the realisation that modern life has turned spirituality, education, and even the self into commodities for the investment class. Beneath the reflection lies a quiet grief: the sense of being “found out,” used, and left behind by a world that values technology and profit more than wisdom, humanity, or truth.

Alien Obs

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The reverse of me
Natural negative
Polaroid mind
Demonic finds
Stereotype kinds
Human kindness
Laying down
Back on ground
Astral rounds
I think I see a Kestral for a Knave.

Naïve idealism
Messianic saviourisms
Why would I control the future
That is not successful for me?
Distance between stars
Travelling far between nations
Craving the righteousness of stations
Where the light would be consistent
Safe grounds for the resit.
Take time for the coffee beans
Mayans used their nodes for their in-betweens
So say some of us
Grinding the roast on the Machu Pichu omnibus.

Safer where I have been
Sufi Healer and the leanest loan
Helping some people at home alone
So aloneness is balances
And checks have their balances
For the American media machine
Parents in control of giving something to complain about
Arjuna’s route
Can you say route? the Yankee Way
That is the way the Daoists say
Stuck learning English and the found first difference of explorers
To note the contention that people are stirrers.

The messages within are Clairaudience and hidden
From the Psychiatrist who judges me and leaves me bed ridden
Hearing here and far for the motion that is sickness
And nobody to talk to for all that hymen weakness.
Sexual depravity
Escapology and annuity
I look to mature my loan against time
So much lost time
To one day find I live, just right and fine.

AI Summary

The poem explores the shadow‑self — the negative image formed by fear, stereotype, psychiatric judgement, and spiritual longing — and the struggle to reconcile idealism with the painful realities of illness, loneliness, and lost time. It moves through mystical traditions, cultural references, and personal memories to show how the speaker has been misunderstood, pathologised, and spiritually displaced. Beneath the imagery lies a deep yearning for safety, clarity, and a life that feels whole: a desire to reclaim time, to find balance, and to live without the weight of shame or the distortions imposed by others.

Mentalisms

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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]

AI Summary

The poem confronts the struggle to define oneself amid cultural, religious, familial, and psychological forces that constantly misinterpret or distort identity. The speaker rejects being boxed in by labels — poet, Hindu, Paki, saviour, sinner — and questions the authority of religious figures, political systems, and family expectations that have shaped his life. He reflects on childhood, sibling responsibility, academic pressures, addiction, and the pain of being racialised in England, weaving these experiences into a critique of how society fails to understand or support those who fall outside its norms. Beneath the anger and satire lies a deep grief: the fear of being forgotten, misunderstood, or consumed by forces larger than himself, and the longing for connection, clarity, and a life that feels whole.

BAME

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Mixing with the majority
Splitting the sky into an event for the horizon
Cardamoms and elaichis from my brother
A happy dog day tea afternoon. Chai, to some,
With love
Emotions well spun all over the place
Traces of compassion frothing at the mouth
Spinning like a cotton wheel for the stars in their eyes
Celebrity red carpets and hand bags full of cash
Davos exposes are really trash
Let them go, with a ho, so the trolls can have a go.
Terror and the gaseous realms in the stomach
Pregnancy withdrawal symptoms: Trying to find truth again
Sex on the sandwich e-brain
Remarks from the NLP practitioner and the Window Cleaning Method
Spreadsheets and dirty sheets
Sheer stocking mocking the celebrity Brahmacharya vow
Cows in the ladies arms in Vrindavan asking “How?
Because Krishnamurti is on a tour of duty
Across Thine arms and into the Universe
Realms for longing and sad tricks on the human race
Energies exploding in the anus all over the place
Gas from the pills, chills from the stillness
Who knows when God will come back and walk amongst us as one of us.

What’s Special(?)

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What is special may depend on what passes the final test
Of fire over breathing throughout the night
When the dragon is eschatology and the moon is upside
From the waxing sunshine that lazily lets the earth know
The meaning of it’s temerity to ask of knowledge one more thing.

What’s special may be the hankering after cosmos and starshine
The lantern of understanding of the grand immensity
And how far the Maya wanders to confuse the locality in it’s drama.
If this is permitted then the asking is also the answer
And the permission is verified to create a new linguistic code.

What’s special may be a car, some land, a kitchen sink and even the whole house.
Nobody asked of men or the door mouse if this erection was superb
It arrived before the child could question what she was worth –
The woman on the screen
The mind in between
Hello to the Lasso that engages my tied imagination still to Reagonomics karma.

What is the dharma?
Is the dharma spoken?
Who are the protagonists?
When the time is just a money token.
Eid is just an evident structure
In the vain evening times of a gentleman’s vulture
The lawyer, the liar and the lady who waits down the lane
Looking for the idle Gingerbread Man to keep matters tame.

Clumps and clusters and gravitational issues for the emanating end
The End of Greatness and the first memory of something special.

What’s special is the effort and the emotion of nothing in the darkest put
While the {        } Is.

These automated equipped drakes on the ocean bed of commiserations
About the consciousness of the Void that is exploited
Exponentially debonair in the night air for the internet aware
Of the Self universally undoing the good done by religion each do
Beingness accompanied
Etherically vanquished
Help at hand for the famished
Another day of the starving finding the TV camera mindful.

What’s separate is what is special.
What’s together is what is familiar and not so special.
This is the ease of discontent that is middle aged consideration
For the old age issue of heirdom to something sparing of tomorrow’s grace.

Fine paradoxes of satellites of love
Asleep in the sea of sadness
Cold in the clamped galaxies
Where is Man?
Where is his Goddess?
Who is the female in the eye of the storm?

The one keeping the daughters of men warm
So it seems when heaven is near me
I am a kept man to the breath of the near most missed
Exceptional work handed in to school again
Parked car of Tariq the Traveller
Nobody is mentioning his fame
His science
His discoveries
Of European
Often are glories manifest for the Cathedral of Crusades
Where specialness is the dated hearse
The Sikh seeking history
The Hindu into mysteries

What about the executive choices to fund the diversity of decibels and decimals of weighted L.S.D?
Is that what is special in me?
Who am I?
Why am I here?
What’s in a question?
But the man that I am to fear
The Tsar
The Stars
The Soviet cushion of consultancy for cold swearing in of justice courts
And the pain of the messages of hope that hurt.
The News
The {Photos}
1000 words
…
…
These are (some of) the things that made the 1900s absurd.

To a Hindu Citizen

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You didn’t even need to say goodbye
When you had left me for The Dead.
I had already read your stars
And they said you were here or there
Continuance.
Somebody is at the corridor of uncertainty
And the Black Man is looking for salvation
Often The White Supremacist speaks English first.
Chinese under
Writing
Standing
Taking
Why are we waking?
The Brahmin is importing the religion we are devouring
The Classicist is ignoring the divorcing we are endgaming.
What is in a marriage when the polygamist is always a broken Muslim
Fractured at the hands of time
To crime and Crimean punishment
For the war and perchance that a Russian missile will bring peace to a region
Areas of compassion
Free economic Homos
He’s in the zone,
For God’s sake, don’t bring a Sudra home
Come Dine With Me
Manchester City
There’s an Evangelical thread in the room
I’ve got to clean out the broom cupboard soon.

Time for Rumi
Make some room for my I
This Hindu has some Ego and Materialism to espy
We’ve just put him on a throne!
Go away and come back when you can teach me about this aloneness
Emerson all the way to your bank
I say thank you
It’s not the Victorian crew
Days that were far behind us
The Clapham Omnibus + Race Relations Laws
Downward facing dog pose
>> The Sumo Wrestler of the WWF
[                  ]
Eat me at EnlightenNext
There’s culture under my white vest.
Before we need identity cards
What’s that yoga you know, down at The Shard.

That’s All She Is

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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

Who is my Mother?

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I look like an American maniac
Surrounded by paranoid people
Beaten by the medical certainty
That they don’t clean themselves.
Ho’oponono answers the Hippy Revolution of the 70s and deals with The Wonder Years on TV
COVID was not for me as my Mum drove me around town and my brother forgave me
Deep shit to quote it back to the scientific community
Apparently unable to cross refer references all by themselves
The
Are
Can?…

When will the caravan come back to the holidays of Summer in the East of England
After the pain of too much Scorpio strain of imagined refractions of false spies in the Church of England again?

I don’t listen to my Mum as well as I could
Her words aren’t as literary as the Chohan said I should
Be compassionate
Be loving
We are the sporty type for the right tripe to win the game show’s commerce in the world run by American weather vanes
Handling your Four Winds Acupuncture
Dealing with your Reiki massage
All so you can read literature and watch sexy politics with Nigel Farage
Who is the Midlands Spoz to Danny Boy’s Zephaniah in the sky with diamonds now

Is my mum a displaced cow in Vrindavan
For the mistaken fun I had
Planning the poetic land
Like a Tolkien toll bridge for some unimportance and humiliation of humility I had planned
Writing verses with Krishna again
Settling the past life strain.