Checkers

On the way to the word spiritual
Is a typical retrospective ritual
To find out all that you don’t know
About who is not you certainly.

Then the definite article can be found
And the usual suspects will be brown,
So don’t complain of the masterplan
To wait for the overshadow and Africa land.

For, if man is not known after 1980,
And the Nobel Prize going Tibet’s way
Then how can human numb more than Sci Fi
When volition is evil for evolution to try a drive by?

Masters and servants are now my table merchants
I eat the vocabulary like potters clay with Islamic love:
Maybe that’s Ishmail anymore on the oceans
And a courtesan is lost in the past with The Kite Runner’s sequel trove.

Mentions are few and far between for what means something to me
Hidden from the dens of Oxford’s dense forests
Where the legacy of litanies was humanism resolved
To court the jester who opened his mouth with problem solving.

That was the opening act of a poet lost in the towers of knowing it
Like a Babylonian Prince of deceit and chasing darkness
Facing hardship for the throws on the internet affair
Where the awareness does not sit well with 19-1000s-Millenniums.

The English land is so betrothed to sand that travellers come and go
With merry love on their hand. Show me again the Titan’s strain
To rove where the Martian knows American music with Holz.
Then the comeuppance can dance with the ordinary and culture can cope.

So on the way to the bank for literary thanks
With my books on the open and not so free market:
Is a word to the Heal who is no show stealer
That today is no Black Friday with such a hearkening.

Stay alive like John Travolta and revolve unlike Revolver
Don’t sell all for an out with the Beatles version of Twist and Shout:
There was more to Jack Lemmon than dancing (white) like John Lennon
So send hoops to Jordan for a brighter affair.

One day we will get there to a bright affair
It just needs speaking again.
Then the table cloth is rinsed and the colour runs out
So the negro is not Chubby or Checkers to cost what it’s all about.

If I was Middle Eastern then maybe my midrift would matter
For the psycho-somatic distress of a Hindu who is fatter
For all the care from the Drs about the nurse who saw
A beef eater love chickens more than Arjuna at the door.

Callum and High

Seen is the reflected
Wanted is the defected
But if hated is the refracted
Then lately will be the de-compacted.
Hate the original thinker
And you will be one too:
Love the first called blinker
And there will be one girl left for you.
How was it you were hollow to remember my name
When the halls knew your latent fame?
Did you think I would blink when your arse did his think
And the paper was not a Horatio bidet –
Do you know my (new) day,
Or is it to untimely for this to be the one fashion poem too say?
Lady, girl, friend
Chip out some wood with that tiger and the Ludhiana food
It looks good on you
Leave some for two
And there will be some for three
Seer, quality, streets for Lafeyette to regret the imparting of some stretched marks
Too far, too soon
Too much, too soon
Intense like a open corpse and area 51 Scorpio library
There is always Gary after the shoe show
Boots and all.
Boot.
What a waa waa boot “for you”,
There could have been four for your dad at the door,
Driving Miss Daisy past the worn out Newspapers looking for in drain spite and nations.
What does it mean to be like you – Hugh, St Hugh’s, Jew and Colonel before the time?
Palestinian crimes and Darfur rhymes long before the Durr account.
Were you a scout with the cleaners?
Could it be you have fallen from Fight Club gloves?
Almonds under the bed
Some changed sheets instead
And nothing after the used up hack
Spack-attack! Nothing can save that. Fallen soul.
Pope’s channeled goal. Are you into Akaashic fields now too?
There is football in India now for you.
They play in blue
With the Chelsea boys
And fake injury fairly
Unlike my heart when you broke it
For the cost of a token
Like a moment in the luxury limelight (and how a burger cost £20)

Jivan

Modest are the lanes of Broad Street
Long before the times of closet homosexuals
Who take Broads to ways out West
When the wildest and wettest t-shirt does best
For a six marriage Hollywood set piece
Over brightest Blighty’s divorce law crest and craving:
Buddha is raving for some more boys on the beach
Reading a book called ‘Reach’.
Smoke
Served
Vote and anthem again
But bear in mind if there is nothing in an E.C.T. brain
Then what is the strain
Psychiatric trainer
Look alike no-brainer
Come again
See the truth
Nobody likes you – without you in the room
Broom.
Cinderella
Go find a clever fella
With his rocks and bells and whistles
Who needs polished policed public brushed bristles.
Admire
Turn
Shoot again –
The Afghans are not yet out of naughties and grapes
Trapsing through the photo album of time
In the loose lasoos of the investors who cannot help others to make money
God! Your funny. Laugh for me like a tree
Knowledge lady
Have you seen any skeletons lately?
Cups get bored when you’re the Queen in the room
And heroes are hard when the goal is your Sewa for some cooperative ‘shrooms.
Glisten like The Glimmer Man and send up The Wayans Family
And life will know the moustache again
So the Punjabi can bowl the Goatee away again-
Sell it to me
Bell it to me
Text me
And don’t hesitate to page me.
The rage might me late
Tandems are at the gate
And laughter is a Mile High late.

waste

In time there was quorum on the forum of time
To have sent the earth some special photos of finders
Who met in the right place at the right time
To know that poetry was wrong.
They asked, what is it?
They asked, what was it?
They asked:
They asked:
They asked:
_____________________

Now is now
Put that in a package Mr Levis
And get some roots
Showing off was not so successful
When the clown was accompanied by school proof.

Chief

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.

Common Parent

How much he takes out on us
Riding the bus like a common parent
Things that he meant to say but left in clues
Something for me and the politician’s cold cold hearts.
Blowing the socialist world wide apart
When the Wiley Coyote shit is ugly like a bird pooing on the alligators down by the African stream,
As friendly as an Oxford hall
When the men were nice and the problems were small.
Oh how the ages have been unkind to the mind
Stained glass windows with the gaul to show up in my house
Chasing the rat to beat the scientific mouse
When the culture fades into an LSD spin
And the naughty mouse wins to epic the story for the Djinns.

We just listen to the music
The commotion on down the hall
The parents that afforded their children good stuff
Records and all that jazz.
The leaving van has left
The supper will be on soon
Formal Hall
Oxford Ball
Porn down the Alzheimer’s lane
Insane in the old person’s hall
So much to organise
So little medical students to associate with
What do you give?
What do you plan?
When is the farmer’s van?
Gobstoppers will be on sale at this rate
For the antique cigar shop on the High Street
The people we will meet
The games we will play
Things that Oxford has yet to say
About:
D
&
R
Robbing Dolce and Gabbana blind
Fucked by a Dr from behind
Marking the gay’s work
Sending Wagamama’s bezerk
What about my lady boy’s and their white soled shoes?
Haven’t they got something to do with the music in you?

So sing it loud and sing it hard
The language in England governed by repetition.
But Utopia is barred by the lonely Bard
And all that he saw fail before his terror vision.

Until the Daffodils Yearn

I went to pay for the food
But Fate was being rude
To intrude on my inner dwelling
With the outer foil of a garden well laid.

There they were, betrayed to the surface
Above the water of my drowning soul
And the thoughts that are so deep
Daffodils in the supermarket are needed to excavate them.

So I am unearthed.
Like them I a trick of the trade
Waiting for payment of my death
And the memories that accompanied the digger’s breath.

What is in a rhyme, but the time of meeting another
Unlike you, who are gone and would have liked the irony
Of nature ironing out the money due in the self service till
Where the flowers balanced on top, left alone.

Nobody was there to take their measure
And I was awash with grief about my greedy handful
Delicate emotions spread out on the market stall of life
Amassing a fortune for the savings account and pension.

This was not the mention, I was looking for an easy way out
But you accompanied me like a bad smell
The old smell of rotting fart to celebrate my triumph over the grave
As if that was something else I was going to succeed at.

Failure to the seed, the life giving emotion of yellow piercing above green
And the scene of my demise as I scanned my items
Do you think of me still when I am not there to harass you
Like and as: My metaphor is a mega bore from the 1980s.

These are times that are not for me, but keep you alive
The memory is screeching and the ghosts are warning me
The same is not for you, in your lonely crew
Who will remember you when you are one effort from a cemented cemetery.

Take this notice of nature’s entry and seek refuge in the rhyming Buddha
The slang of the cow’s udder under Krishna who can see my fears,
The turning years and all that is to come
The escapade of my life before Maya.

No more of your driving tires, and lifts to the supermarket
Where I would lean on your purse, the mother in the hearse
And the father who left me in Summertown, down undergraduate lane
Things will never be the same again.

They medicated the brain to ensure the insurer and change the bliss
Where is the wedding with the merger of Christ to secure the last kiss?
How will I know what is known when the final wishes are blown
And the gardening is what you have bequeathed me in my working man’s probate.

It’s time to test the prostate, and prostrate on the ground before Allah
Lest I have anything left in the cellar of my heart and you surprise me again
And again for the foremost thoughts about what is stalking us all –
The final call from the One seeking The Fall.

Pick and Choose

Pick
The puzzle
The optimal start up speed
The world is spinning around
The why is so pertinent
The where is so evident
These are the things we know
So I went down below
I mediated the earth’s core
I asked the time travellers for more
The culture we adore
Those who adore the messages from the past of VHS
The best man’s hairy chest
The father in your arms doing his best
These are the things I tested
To see if I could stay seated when the violence was no more pacifist
Clench
Yogic retention
Imbalance and detention
Partition of special relationship
Llamas in the Whore House
Green Berets through the front door.
I reaped the remeberance of an Oxford Degree
I forgot my mother (again) to avoid misreading the Church as S.P.

Choose
And I am undone
The choice is too fast for thought that is ruined
It’s the same for us all
Special people being strange in a normal world broken by Buddha’s mirrors
Mental health adrift the tides of life lived by fine people
Directors dealing with the ladders some people don’t climb
Most people don’t climb these corporate ladders.

Then
How? I asked [poetically]…
Are we supposed to talk?

Chinese Poet Star

Separating the wood from the boys
Metal Gnosis and erotic string theory
Fellows of the Dao at St Hugh’s crowds
A Chinese Centre {for Harold and Kumar}.
With love,
From the Bhakti boys
Something from Queen (IMDb)
How about the scene with those sex toys.
Did you think they came to see you?
The Bollywood crew
What about those Delhi bellies?
Have they seen the Buddha too?
2 Live Crew
Something for the Casino man in you
Come and see our central vase
Find your way out of your celebrity maze
Thy will be blonde
Amazon wonga
There’s no room my Inn
Things the saviours see in their diners.
Mick Jaggers gone Peaky Blinders
Chinatown and the Pagoda down the road
Lessons from monarchs
Leave without saying anything about Toad
Wind in the Hollows
Why didn’t you say so sooner
Abigail Crooner
There’s so much we can agree on
Solid ground
Milk drinks to be found
Coffee made us proud
Manifested from the Sacred Ground
1990-Web Ology
B.P.S. for Mum is not for me
CV developers in every city
New Age knowledge to climb over
High states to climb down
Get over the state of being brown
Yoga is all over town
Penniless crew
Travelling is not so important for the Brahmana in you
Driving Licence test
{Facebook would be best}

Crime and Punishment

Crime never pays
So say the echelons of the echos around Formal Hall
It is evening time and the randy Dons are doing fine
Minding fashion with their economic rations
Camel toes all the way as they espy the noblest hand me downs of the gays.
People that say too much
Poets with the handiest touch
The rules of the game exampled on a phone
See! Even they fear being alone.

Moody waves travelled the wide oceans
Searching for space to engulf an academics brain
Researching this, researching that
Bound by the formal paintings of the architects of the 9/11 attacks
Muslim v Christian ex parte spiritual worlds
How is this for no more lecture for the boys and girls
Hundreds next to thousands all eating with Harry Potter
I need a break from my self
To the imagination’s squatter.

So what for these young youths
And their open hand before the legal system?
How will they reform the reformers
When they adjust from the Don’s ancestry
Television
Exam revision
Lonely            She was derided.
The ghosts of Christmas past can’t come every day.

If you search for a fight, you will find one
The fried fat disappoints the ideal visionary
But the flame in the fire of the digestive system
Eats up the discussion over dinner in a very good way.

There are things these Dons could have had to say
But they capitulated over night and day
The moon controlled their oceans and waved goodbye to the dissent
Needed over time of the cornered students on the floor.

They will rebut the military command one day
People trained not to hear what pain was to say
About a million monks and a thought from Siddhartha
About the way the world worked when Mao was not off the rack.

Keep the markets back until retail sings again
The business studies graduate and the bullies drinking again
Telling all and selling small
Keeping it all in the all and all

  • Reviewing poetry

E-Commerce is for me
Then they will allow Reiki to get away from their gear and staff.

Let the children have a laugh!
It is time to go home to your room after a full stomach
Then the aching pains of missing your parents
Will be your father and mother again – no matter what their name,
When they have drifted apart again
Buying and selling
Travelling and holidaying.
See the Tibetan mill saw dust
Tell about the eyes of the Shaman lost in lust:
#And you will anoint the dirty past of fighting spiritual people
Of #And along the way…

… the things the children will say
As they go back upstairs to their rooms
Is behind you as you clean up
Dinner ladies (like Shashi) who have so much left to do.

Connaught Place

What’s that talk you been ragging and slagging
That jive on the street the Drs have been shagging in
Their clothes in the market halls and their books in the Unis
Choose me a Curriculum for the transport of books for Ben Wright
Lover of Yasmin Khan eating Paan in Connaught Place
Raving about Statistics after fashion at Freuds for Christian raids all over the place
Changing his mind about a homosexual find
Paul Ready will travel to China.

They demand Amazon talks in the media
How is this not Slander
I can see it all cuming from here
I will be a victim again
And Rohan is not a corporate brain
Lost without my losses sharing with economies
One city – London advising on stock and shares over decades from teenagers dreams with their Drs friends of parents

PNAAC became OFSTED
Cheney went home and did drugs instead
Rumsfeld was known
Rice gave Condaleeza’s dog’s charity at Dog’s Trust a bone
And the Queen called off Crufts for a year.

Splitting the mind into China time
London stockbrokers to infinity

Into me
Not paying me Royalties
Investing in L Ron Hubbard Psychiatry
The streets are empty
There is no joy
He’s the master of happiness
He’ll diabetically medicate the boy
One day he’s in power
The Throne of thronging England
So many he has named
The British Empire will return, He said.

Look – this man is well read.
Surely this concerns me
Stories of great Yugas and Kalpas
Talks I am not included in
The dried out fruit of the lobotomised Holland and Barrett crew
Gymnastics next for your mother when she is 80 – I’ll bet
Things for human beings down at the NHS for the New Age Vets
Why don’t you waste you time giving thanks to those Gods
And choose gratitude as your punishment.

Messages in poems?
Interest in the literati
These are things to joke the day that money makes sense
Insulted by the edifices around Mike Pence
Showing the child medicine around Jill Biden
Things that Ernie van Woerkhom can control…

So much advice to give to a Self Help parent
So much intention to be the gay mother of invention.