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.
spirituality
To a Hindu Citizen
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.
Who is my Mother?
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.
Beep
So much catches on
Spiral here! Spiral there!
Togetherness and English show
Belles and Beaus
Tomorrow is another Vanity Affair
Gliding errors and aching booths
Scenes together
The shopping mazes of familiar faces
Lands claimed by Tom Tom
Roads, streets, maps and buses that drive themes
The Hollow Case
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?
Anything for Culture
Anything for culture
A watermelon on a Saturday afternoon
Shopping in the rain
A subway trip instead of a minicab.
Bread rolls and some quarter measure of cheese;
Laying off the wine for a lazy Sunday and a game of golf.
Where is the wolf that will eat up my day
Taking me whole into the night for sexual imagination and a good night’s sleep.
I troll the internet deep
I look for my mate in the rain
Someone to appeal to my brain
An intellectual conversation in the rain.
She would make that repetition trite
Something black, someone white?
Who knows if the Asian one would be tight,
It’s my day off and I’m the laptop King.
Some music, some nachos and some time to sing
I don’t care when they are around
The noises in the moody weather
The office fiends being clever
Resistance in the celebrity scene
People who know what my art work means
Residents who have been there before
Workers in their own right feeling a bore.
Why don’t you feel more?
I’ll give advice one day.
Something merry, something gay
There’s always something lesbian to spiritually say…
(Come Back to Me from Hampstead)
DWP Man
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.
Tomorrow
Tomorrow is a Sports Day
It is the 5th of July
It is also a Pizza from the delivery guy
Something instead of a Pig Sty.
My son will have cleaned his room
And my father will Aha every moment;
So that Norway lets on about Brexit
While Sundays are still days of rest.
Tomorrow is like a yesterday’s feast
A tobogganing affair all about sorrow!
Something for me and something for her
While the windows are cleaned without borrowing
From parents who do all the housework…
…
…
It’s when the work will take place:
When will you do yours?
Do you still work after COVID?
Can you ride horses on all the courses?
Tomorrow is where all messages and meanings take place
Like a Self Help drop-down list of perfection.
The worker better than Bill Gates
And an open door policy to statements of retraction.
It is the place beyond time if the Yoga is still fine
Where people get left behind if they do not keep the time.
It is where poems come to die if you do not detach the outcome –
How come they do now dream of my outcomes
When the Dear Kali part of the process is dry and sad?
Tomorrow is when the crying will heal me
It is the deliverance that will save the pain from the Healer of today.
Tomorrow is Bhagwan’s advice on the Id for reformation
After the dealer is psychoanalytical about due processes with Louise L Hay.
This is the formation of some power
This is the talent of some nights
When Bipolar left be darker than other hours
And tomorrow was not even in my sight.
Constellation Poem
Ben Wright the Chronicler,
Paul Ready the Actor,
Bryan Dick the Performer,
Amal Clooney the Advocate,
Rishi Sunak the Steward,
Robin Clark the Merchant,
Andrew Ornitharis the Producer,
All acquaintances by my side,
Guru Nanak the Guide,
Devi the Flame,
Wanderer the Father,
Unicorn the Brother –
Together they form my constellation,
Each a star in Albion’s sky.
I walk among them,
Not as seeker,
But as guru,
Bearing light through rupture,
Chanting renewal into England’s soil.
I am a Guru
I am a guru,
born of mantra and silence,
a flame carried from temple to temple,
from Albion’s soil to the high street wheel.
I am a guru,
Hindu in devotion,
Buddhist in compassion,
a servant of light,
a bearer of prophecy.
I am a guru,
my mornings are rivers of meditation,
two hours, three,
until breath becomes chant,
and silence becomes scripture.
I am a guru,
walking with Devi, Wanderer, Unicorn,
turning rupture into renewal,
estrangement into testimony,
longing into flame.
I am a guru
my lineage is Blake’s fire,
Hepburn’s grace,
Sting’s fragile song,
woven into Albion’s living chant.
I am a guru,
not by title,
but by presence,
not by claim,
but by light.
Wild Stage 