poetry

To a Hindu Citizen

/ rrishi99 / Leave a comment

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.

Love

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I worked out why I did not love you
Because you loved so many other people
They were not the other people then
When I was a somebody.

I had so many things and places to be
So much status and hanging on of things
The mentioning of the opportunity
Living life in the fast lane in the city
Making marriage work when the wedding band was n/a.

I was never n/a.
I was somebody who defended myself
And now they can hear my health and learn of the threats against them
The wellness reminders and the options for potions instead of recommended meds
The giving of head by NHS staff leaning on their prey
Something they have to say about their somebody
As I move on through the time tunnels of thought and test the introduction
Thought and the merry Mary salvaging something like a space ship that we can share
So I can sell you as self-aware.

Maybe one day I will recall the 1980s romances and the action stars
They loved their women rather than me too
And turned to the blue review
Over and out
Through and through
While other mental staff looked through you
& we had so much to come between us
when my father was not even a footnote on the page of history
for the people who would hate me as deep
when depression was more the weather front

That was all the shares I needed from the Great man
And then he can plan and plan
Transference mistresses next to the negro
On the go with his token Councillor
Laughing at excitement
Driving cars I never meant to hide the war with.

On with the show for what is down below
In a world trodden by masters that walked by thine side all the while
I troubled my bald head with varying fashions and styles
They will adapt to as I grow old
Lest the emissions in the room between us grow too cold.

Quorum Princess

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Quorum Princess
Times to address
No more adrift
Finding the right dress
And smile for the occasion.
The occasional faux pas
Icing on the cake
Wedding smiles and parties to stake
Placing the ground between both legs.

Awakening Echoes

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At sixteen, I stumbled,
eyes half-closed to the world,
mistaking shadows for truths,
and whispers for guidance.

My heart was restless,
my mind untamed,
drifting through the tide of what I did not know.
And now I see—
India stretches, awakening,
shaking off the sleep of centuries,
her eyes wide, taking in the light,
learning what I once could not.

The mistakes I made,
the fears I carried,
the blindness of youth—
they hum softly in her streets,
in her voices, in her rising.

What I could not see alone,
she now sees together,
and in her clarity, I find my echo,
the quiet whisper of growth,
the shared rhythm of becoming.

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

Suffering

/ rrishi99 / Leave a comment

The Hologram
The Stiffy and Hard On
The memories of Royal Pardons
When the future remembers.
4. A Quill makes me famous
3. The computer keyboard WON’T regret The Buddha
1. The Missing Link is proven
Say that you will love me when the children grow old.

I’m moving house in the field’s last eye of the countryside
The horses are galloping where the Angels are still arching their backs
This is no time for the lamenting of the spack-attack
The 1980s won’t ever come and rescue me.

Spy City 
Do you remember Frankie?
Or is it all Les Bobby Browns to you : A miserable unBriTISh bastard
With all his indebtedness to L.A. Whores.
Confidentially yours from Mr Kevin Bacon
Eating all the space when the women need some make up
Keeping loss under cover with smelly regrettably yours
Dealing with the clean yogis, purifying the locus.

Hocus pocus
It’s what it seems to me
You research your school textbooks
I need some time alone.

  1. Sathya
  2. Sati
  3. Siddhi

I’m cooling my face down with a neck fan
Nobody’s my fan on the State Run Instagram
Running through the towns and still she doesn’t like me
A yogi born a Christian with down syndrome infamy.

I Struggling to talk

II Struggling to walk

III A dictionary in my shoulder bag – the one I carried to Dharamsala

Chinese figments of the brothers’ imagination
Wutang before women who write poems instead of face the nation.
Blessings in the Church
What about her arched back
Left in the lurch
Nobody will remember the 6 o clock news spent on the Sexy (News) Christian.

Blame it on the vegan
As I mess about with bacon and beef:
Leaving aside some fish and eating no eggs
Lest Allah call me some mind reading tea leaf.

29/07/2023

Strike 3

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Lonely walk outs
Lifetimes of work
Streets paved with potent poor people
Named guests
Speakers at expensive dinners
Candle lit clandestine agreements
High powered talkers
Beansprouts and stakeholders
The ambulance shows up
The lunch is up next
The Government issues its decree
The newspaper stalks
There’s always time for take away food
Have a hullaballoo
It’s now time for your views
Stave off the TUC
Where can the answer be?

How much is the negotiation
The leaders of the nation
Strike one was not so bad
Strike two made the Ministers mad
Strike three is yet to start
Just hope they don’t get to the heart.

Some Art Device

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Sanity is judged
The meal before lunch
Balance up the top credit
Before the proper table manners edit
The children who have their breakfast
The adults checking phones before work
There is an objective >>> “BeYoNd!”
Time does not feel so long
Batteries not so fully charged
People don’t feel so large
The Technical, the Natural and the Targets
This is as tough as the morning gets,
Before Mehta is applied and lunch is served
Stop wasting time
It’s going to be fine
The phone is smart art
All get their just deserts.

It answers all questions
[Conscious Cous Cous + Conscientious Science]
Why would you question it?
What is left of the sameness of you and me?
Can we meditate in the centre of the city?
Apply for a job
Type and lie like a slob
Get that fix
Play some tricks
But in the end of the innuendo
Its time to explore so I get to know
Who is the third who walks besides me
When will settle on The Other as the Holy Trinity?

Poet

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In night time
The quiet storm is outside the bedroom window
The settled sleeper sleeps on the stolen bed
Adrift of the dreams of furnishing stop
The molten lava of alighted upon wisdom
Sale after sale after sale and restless patterns
Like a cross stich in the handmaid’s tale of desire and dreams…
In daytime
The blazing sun is fragmented upon the homes of the passengers
Players in the game of the State’s weekly confusion
People with delusions need not enter
The hourly draw and competition to see who is the best.
Actors with women in dresses, targeted stresses in bank accounts
A small amount to charity feels just right
It’s time to feel more values to adjust to the correct voltage and light.

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.