BARDO POETRY

Travelling I see too
There are things that the world can do without
My self is one of them.
The passage of time leaves me without despair
I am longing to be there
But can wait,
Time.

**************************************

The mirrors are too much
There is too much confusion
The house of Scorpio has not been properly addressed
There is broken glass on the floor.

****************************************

I wait
I am high
My hiatus means I can fly with the Buddhas
They can see
I can see
It is with them
They are not the crowd in the world down below.

***********************************

It seemed to befit me
The crimes against passion
All that reason
The machinery
The robots
The self-awareness tests
The cults
But I could not see myself
And I fell over, awkwardly, and they laughed at me like I was a fool.

************************************************

Travelling I see the meandering ages of man
Tell a tale far richer than Whitehall
Or Madison Square Gardens.
I am free
Free from the search
The Superbowl is on somewhere
All time is marketed to them
And I shall not return to animal or livestock.

*************************************

It is not what it seems
The fanfare and the bandstand
The celebrity still rings in my My-ness
The popularity is affection from the Highness
I was too soon
And tomorrow it will all be gone.

**************************************

Through the photograph lens
Beyond the fires
After the wars
I am still sentient of who I was
Though they said nothing.

Was it me?
Was it the time?
What was the horoscope?
Maybe there is meaning over there…

*********************************

Their social scene
The seances
The senses
I need them.
I need them to patrol the vicinity with the emptiness of shadows
There may be some good borrowing.

Your voices of history are good for me
I can make sense now of what It was trying to say.

************************************

You have me
Examinations
The before and after yesterday
When the world knew what it did before the walls fell
And oceans welled up with Godly tears.

Connectives.
Your years.
Experience.

The Superficiality of a life lived since the 1980s
Oxford (boys and women).

**************************************

I recollect
Life before the medical debit
Credit cards
The American showdown
Little Tokyo.

There was so much to go
Life had it’s fair promise
Those who can, don’t show.

*****************************************

I was right
The after-shock of experience
And mental time
When before you did not mark my school works.

Medical jerk
Reactions and the Olympic way
There will be stern recollections
When no pills are available after the benefits of so many dead.

****************************************

They tale the East
Travel to the margin
Isolated they are poor
Yours is a good version.

Spied on
Eyed on
The many views of Brahma
Are kindness and karma –
I can see what the Buddha sees
But nobody told me what to now see.

*************************************

The race was more important
The time before the table was left out
The chase after the ball
I am with it all –
The one and all.

Seeing is so important
When is time?
Will life be mine again
For the love of The Buddha…

*************************************

Many years I wanted
The red saree and the golden bands of my special day
Why?
Trust.
The legal land
& what they had planned
Weddings and the marriage of what was impossible.

*********************************

To make a crime
And then not find
The legal time
For time and mind.

Only the Buddha could revenge
Empires and human kindness.

*****************************************

Lift me to kind Lhasa
And share with me tales of new Taj Mahals
Where Mumtaz will see it all
As I have seen it all before
A deigned Asian.

Pacifist
Medium-ist
Loser in the Christian war.

These are calm waters
Before The Flood.

************************************

I saw for the last time
I was not the Winner
I was not the Beauty.
The Beast was denied a final Fall
And all I did was before me
(In English).

**************************************

Life was not about being on the TV
Those that dined on TV
There were times for TV
I was a TV for a time with the Great Sea
And the Ocean of Compassion –
Whose name:
Avalokitesvara.

(Learning).

****************************************

What did not come at no cost to me
Settled The Ramayana with all families
This will be the last
There is no more incarnation
For a rose in a desert without imitation.

*******************************************

What is Maya?
What is the world?

Why is your life so?
When will it make sense to you?

These whispers you have heard in your life
And they were medicated into transcription
By the surgeon with a knife.

***********************************************

The love was not worth it
Time spoke of Modernism
There is a place called The Tate Modern
Time is so random

There will times tomorrow
(far away)
Where the journey of love will not be about your youth.

***********************************************

Cinema
Fractured lens of perception
Continental rejection
I want to be at The Cannes Film Festival again.

{a croissant brain}

There is more to life than the peremptory reflection of your own dejection before the light of Goddess Tara

And more to life than drugs and film
And more to life than drugs and film

************************************************

When I saw time
Regret made sense
The denial of time
Had made times tense.

The poet
The narrator
The voice:
All these things The Buddha did not judge.

**************************************************

Meteors
Comet showers and Astrological ivory towers
Waywardness and giddiness

I could tell myself apart from the human race below me

Follow me: Said Tara
& other Devas were there

************************************

Don’t be greater than your mum
There is no need for shallow matter.

The affairs
The yellow lights
The traffic in your modern age
The lack of turning pages

The modernists came true.

*************************************

They wandered far as Israelites
And found the settled land was not far
India and the Tibetan Temples
Is where Emerson shook his fists at from afar.

Himalayan ranges
Bhagavad Gita pages
The computer and human resources
Rhymes for Lakshmi’s golf courses.

…first things first…

*********************************

They yelled at me
Voice, Vermouth and Vote!
I saw those decades
Ranches and Oil
There is not much left now

Why is the TV so?

just wait until they are oldthey are human too, “Black man”

***********************************

The devil never wore a blue dress
He wrote Native Son

…if this is where your literary travels are beginning
then just wait until the end…

Books are my friends
Now

they will not always be so…

***********************************

The grand luminosity welcomes back wisdom
The shallowest part of a human being
The sentiment of meaning something to someone
Give it to me!

… let Krishna be free…

Not until some debts are paid
The way to Calvary is laid.

*************************************

We are the collective consciousness
We are the sum of One.
We are the ones who think of God all day long
And not where the loin cloth belongs.

You torture with Why do we do it?
You include with It is all ours?


We are the collective consciousness
You are the summation of Suma Theologie.

*******************************************

It all seems so much the annoyance of the sameness
The way I used to know things
Sadness
The joy of money
Tomorrow brings warnings.

The weather was false
{No nation ruled}
Those were just people who made mistakes as well.

Narrator
20th Century telling Hell.

************************************

I was the first to depart
So the story stayed with me
There was no Brahmin
Able
Watchmen
Ahead were Aeons of pleasure
Beyond that, was more of the same.

*****************************************

A world without their myths is no travellers den
The unreal seek themselves in the real
And the world moves to the planet so that the earth can give the wise rest
From the weary who do not know
And always show

Peace
Suffering
and Dharma

They will build a path to it soon

And then they shall write letters.

Communication
Warfare
Lovers.

That was who I was.

It was who you always were
And it was who you were always going to be

*****************************************


Sorrow has not place
Wind has no race to win
Candles are not lit
There is no life that is worth the most for a few or the many

Yet, Buddha’s jewels are treasured more than all the oil paintings on earth

Of those…
From those…
WITH those…

Nalanda.

*******************************************

In the afterlife
The life
Naming life still
The Renaissance
Oliver Cromwell
Charles Darwin
Adolf Hitler
Still.

that is why some are called hard-headed

***********************************

There was no use
The century was too more than before
The noise of Guru
What was all before his Victorian houses?

These are the spoils of man
This is the same India as before
I am learning of the devil in minute matters
I seek the refuge of The Buddha

Only in the afterlife will you see the Christ he was not.

************************************

My writing went to Asians and they recommended it to Academics
I was in Alcoholics Anonymous with people I thought it helped more
If only the mobile phone had let me use my body.

Sex
2100s
The morbid future
A world with “China”.

**************************************

Seeing the future did not mean being the future
Distress
Disembodied state
The search for meaning
Let the Black Man have his soul

RnB
#RnB1990s

That was how they did it

Dislocation
The world of the five senses,
And no religion mattered

#TheBeatles

(Cheer)

**********************************

She cheered for you like a groupie
Rock Star
Film Star
Paid accomplice (with child).

The children come every time.

School is out.

I was ignorant of the High Street.

***************************************

All of George Orwell’s little children
The past
Greyness
Jealousy of Americana

A great cup of coffee

*Bliss again*

They were there to annotate the pain

Criticism.
Journalism!
Criticism.

The News.

**************************************

In the end
It was in the beginning
One lifetime was enough to delude them

England
Quantity and Amount

I was not an Accountant

You will be by the end

*********************************

The past is not behind you
The future is not ahead of you
The Mystic is not hidden from you
& Revelations make sense by the toe of a Buddha

Therein is Christ the most reverend
And my story makes sense by his side.

Differences
Nowness
The Jews
Divide and Conquer
Linear Time

I understand so much

The Father
(The ‘not-Father’)

**********************************

I was swallowed up once before by the flowers of India
The decorations of the Dharma
Promises of showers of enthronement and leadership
The ability to mean well

Kali and the singular truth
Renting Colonialism is the same I felt after 1983

The photo & Dancers
Too much to turn my back on as Maya.

**************************************

Fullness
Wholeness of experience
The act of marriage

Emptiness and Politics
Watching man talk about anything but that

#Forget2047
Remember Socrates, Plato and Aristotle

************************************

I read the Greeks in the past
Before they were translated {in English}
For the GBP
Against the Dollar

The cradle of Western Civilisation was bankrupt
Brexit happened

…nobody noticed I existed either…

*********************************


The story of English society
Civilization
Retelling
American Invention
The Japanese invented I.P.
The Chinese were aware of Marketing
The 2300s made no apology

The Environment recycled things so the Black Man could know history

Circular Time & my life mattered again

…Vedas…

********************************

The Kama Sutra was superimposed
Layers and Minimalism
Marilyn Monroe

The Beatles (again)

The shutter speed was too quick
Man could not handle invention
The gun

It was too late.

********************************

They came from the past
To tell me my future
Before it was the present
Of the richest Celebrity.

Nobody
No-one
Nothing

Where was the book Telling me?

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It came so fastThe1960s
And the race was won

Space will never be the same again
And I was there to televise my own success

Mind
And The Buddha will win

*************************************


When I left the laws of the land
I was hurt in my head
The foggy density of a wild forest
They knew better.

The Police were the intellectual class
The Scholars just worked on their pass.

Automation.

***************************************

Libraries
The TV Wars
Opulent faux pas
The policy of turning

My life is the same again
the politician knew what books would do…

The years 2200 are ahead.

****************************************

If you have something intelligent to say
Say it with regret to Newspapers
That’s all I can see from up here
{Them}

Photographing the world
Spacemen

the Buddha in Tibet would have been nice

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When the realms spoke their truth
Accents
The familiar disgust
The territories and the frontiers
The Frontier Men

War by another means
Give me another name
Celebrate the Self

#Medicated

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And then they said it never mattered
All
All is all
He was All-Powerful
All Knowing
All Seeing
All Present
All

all

**********************************************

Many times I walked down the same road
They said it was sanity
Institutions were …
… Categorized
Sanitized                   demographically prioritized
Celebrated

The Word
                          became
              a literary delight

Turks

Marriage is a Corporation


**************************************

The mirror broke
And there was another
The possibility of understanding
The rhetoric of 20th Century success

“He never said”

{Know thyself}

***************************************

All the misery of life told simply truthfully to me
Made me convinced I did not want to smile
Was that The Maker?
Will I reach the goal?
Are the books arranged there, the way they are meant to be?

Ganesh was wise to shadow Shiva’s Mahabharata

********************************************

The line of the mind was narrow
The gates were illumined by Great Bear
Bardos told of time & simile
The way to truth was different there
Forgetful

I can see when my legs are wide apart
The gates of Greece are nationhood tomorrow

Buddhist Monastery’s will have filing cabinets

Socialism

Media

Leonardo da Vinci

***********************************

I shouldered the burdens of history
Unpacking the presents of Santa Claus
The nations were providing legal clauses
Nobody stopped for tomorrow.

These were the causes of my sorrow
Unhappiness led to depth
Depth was followed and mocked

The leaders sold the example
Nobody stopped for the hollow.

**************************************

Like a snowstorm the memories came to me
Then there was stillness and bliss
I recalled the promises from Sages and Wise Men
I was at the market stall at the time.

Fragmentary
In an allegory
The afterlife still exited reality at the same door.


**************************************

Evolutionary trajectory
There was so much slowness before the acceptance
Mind Body Spirit
Witness
The differences from the past
Being there and free at last

Brahman and the deceptive opinion
That all was one all of the time.


***********************************

It was not until I was dead that I was dead
And death was the party of the political scene.
Where have the English been
Why did the Americans let it happen?
What will happen?

Where will they export the rivers of blood to?

Dib Dib Dib
Rub a Dub Dub

Sail Away. Dreams!

censored


************************************

Some souls live
Some souls strive
Some educate
This one dramatized.

There was nothing left for me
The British Empire
It made up Colonialism while I was educating The Other(s).

It was too late,
There was nothing I could do
And I could not go back for them…

…#RememberingVietnam


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When you photo’ed
When you screened a parade
When you where in Charade (IMDb)
Where you Audrey?…
How fair is that?

{Rat-a-Tat-Tat}

What were your rates for Heaven and Earth?

Head of the Church

all the Churches

************************************

It was human nature
There was so much illness
State Sponsored
So I joined in

Pressure
Stress
Tension

No school tomorrow
Days off and getting out of work.

Jai Om Namo Shivaya

{& Cassius Clay}


*********************************

From the beginning
To the end
It was not my end
That was not the end of my life
{Time}

They run their routes
They tease in their suits
They use the Firemans’ boots
The ambulance’s are in cahoots

Technology & The Police ruined the country
How complicated does a crime need to be?
L.P.C. & London Met

Schools must shut down

is Home Schooling safe?

“With them around”


************************************

Singh Song

Catch me some history and the trees will fall
The writing of one book and love for us all.
The Guru Granth Sahib is remarkable for what I do not read
The eyes of another and internet feed.

This is the modern age and man does not know himself too well
Tainted paint with graffiti about facts he summarised.
Man cannot use that which is normal for too long without time
Interfering gathering of life around vices representing grime.

Manners are spoken, voices can be heard
A man’s true designation is otherwise preferred.
At the feet of the Master and not out there with the loose cannons
Computer gamblers hopeful of some sexual passions.

Man was not made to know woman until the Bible was spoken over top
Optional headdress for those left out in the cold,
Like this old verse that beyond Renaissance ideals
Seeking love elsewhere for those fashions to balance a heartfelt steal.

Save me from Guru save me from despair
But do not rescue the Buddha within me
That will cut off my hair.
In England they are the same
And the Gurdwara is no good
They tempt you there with wastage and free food.

These interludes are some qualities of knowledge that I see vaguely
The lights on the city of the hills is not really business for me.
These religions grow tired, and the true Guru has enough words for himself
To leave me out and not include me in the fortress of his rude health.

Words can be deceptive, and the hierarchy can leave acres in the brain
Neurons mistake projects for New Age scientists to place strains
Men and women workers suffer uncooked food at home tables
Education is lesser and wielding to their career and pension repeatably well.

These are the days of finding that time is not beyond embarrassing man
And Guru Nanak faces psychiatry with a hand in the Yugas and Kalpas:
Again after Scientology they have a Master Plan
Nazi, suicide missions and English revisions to delete your man.

So, gather for a ramble and a march amongst the brambles of Birmingham
From an unlikely suspect of poetic disturbance within himself:
Where is the stealth of Xenu in the bygone age of post-2012 spirituality
After the NHS medicated my mother with tortious liability of proximity?

On The Padded Cell

(Ring. Ring.)

They drove me mad
It was first gear
They were all I had
That was secondary fears.
Scanned and locked
Banned and fucked.
The memory issue was only solved
By going forward in reverse.
That was a very merry hearse;
Marry me tomorrow to the lady in white
May we be the “Oum” Japa Bunnies
Maybe it is the wedding cake
Mistakes have been made
In and outside of M-An-Hat=Tan

(Ring. Ring.)

Stopped by Jersey for a tan
Caught up with the NHS boy for some fab fans
Offline printer
Online winters
Sad paid plans for old age
Road rage
Whitsun Weddings
-> Flotsam and Jesters
Still Larkin around, I see
::-> some people should be paid for padded cell poetry
To,
Brighten Up Your Jig
and make you dance with the wig
Yours,
Tories too and their Techno game.

For parties in parks
Sex on the brain.

(Ring. Ring.)

What happened?
Spin the polity
Rave the menagerie
Meditate the meditators
Medicate the lactators
Convene the meetings at 3 o’clock
Suck on that chicken for evening sticks and sticks that won’t break my bones
When your words on my dinner plate hurt me…
Wages and costs
Living on the box:
What was the (real)?
When wages were all I could feel.

(click)

Numbered

Model
The experience.
Infernal reference points in hell
Pointing the way to experience unexplained blues;
I blew on the tissue
Kleenex. Jokes and the borstal,
Extension to primary university remorseful.
How could you be
Without or with me?
Don’t.
Let it overuse assumption
Of the non-inheritable gazumption
Of The Land Unuser; an illegal abuser
Without an Ark for Joan.
Don’t.

#She wants to be there with you
Nirvanic realms…
Dreams with the intolerable poet
Misused matches of daytime scenes
Corroborated evidence of sanity’s personal plea
Misunderstood. Too good! Too good!
Sahib! Is the poori warm enough?
Are you craving enough?
What senseless devotion is due?
The noon sun is Ganges and lungi lounge music is through
Tune!
Love me.
Move me.
Settle me a score
On the settee next to me,
Is a siren:
“Don’t you set them free?”

One time: Just for you
It’s called my: Nirvana Tune …
Bardos of being and becoming
The unity country of bespoke tailored streams
Yodel and make fun of them too.
What’s a culture between me and you?
Sahib!
One day will be born
A Sahib!
Rival of Mountain Gods
A bountiful ocean of wisdom and love:
Mountbatten woods, never leave home
Without a Calendar. Ishq.
‘The Glass Palace’ could be half full
The human dilemma wasn’t for our Phool Taiji
Tejji-Boy.
Techi-Boy is after you,
Satan’s mills again.
Not one word, but one wolf
The ingratitude of face lone raccoons,
The smells of Hell will be Zulus mercy
For [               ] Guru rehearsal;
What we didn’t know
When he sent us down there to the unconscious pit
About Reading.

William Blake had a wife.
Englishness is an avid read
The world
Outside:
[                  ], Fucked da’ Po’ Lease
Proper Ties are when they’re homes with lies
About the money and the means.
Instagram ya grams for your banana and our Supergran!
Racist will be your leads:
You dirty rat!

William Blake had a life.
That would be nice
Remembrance.
Some of us need it, Some of us out it on show
There’s no time left for the Romantic flow of underwriting.
A carriage, a barge a heavy load of ignorant male envy
The horror of modern time; Africa is afraid of mentionable rhymes.

William Blake knew how to read.
Wham! That’s taker.
Hole. That’s Diwali fire worker
Tears and jerking off in the cinema
Need a better cough for rudimentary
And medicals
In testicles of Routines: The East is where their mama’s hands have not been.
Knock 3 times, it’s Babylon:
The Origin Of [                ] is behind marijuana door number greens.

Feeding, leaning, accepting, crowd pleasing
Hello to the helpers who helped before
Savior
Messiah
Savior of Medusa
The Funky Cold Medina is a watchdog in Madeira.
Healers are leaders if they read, it “just…”

Repain time, responses are for you
Know one day. This world …
Through.

William Blake knew energy.
Consciousness was a porous time.
Swedenborg is fine.
Tied to the Guna of Attila the Hun
I am one of five who are proud
Before a Junta: jokes at Jintao
Two towers, one was left for Miss World to see, too.
Human misery is a beauty contest
Both Ways, acceptance offer and pecuniary loss
Their Islamic toss-off road racers will do.

13. Is thief
Egypt  could have 2012 A.D. for some, a few, a troupe, a clue
Model, overtime
Of how Yeshua could his Jellybeans find.
Sand of time, Zeek, corrosive fires
day
Is not one line.
3. Lines aum is Om your not Triumvirate reclining chakra
5. The fifth is SITH, see the whole when She lives in wholeness with You again
William Blake numbered his verse.

Neurodivergent

Pictures of success
Excess dancing of fiery emblematic
Time spent undressing tragic dreams.
There is no more seems
Terror plots
Yesterday’s waste
Forgotten travelling clouds;
Mesmerising water
Of the neurological passageway,
They have thoroughfare.

The concrete reality of a subterranean jungle
Met with monster-like deceitful strain
Going this way and that way
A fitness survived fit for a King’s competition.
Elements combine some new way of rage
Desperation pants for a damp rag to wipe a sweaty face
This day and that old something.

Can you wear a bonnet and go to the races?
Or stay with me while I pace up and down the streets?
So that at the end of the year it is still Christmas
And there is some imaginative space where we meet.
It cannot be your world, when I am jobless too –
For those pictures of you dinner and dancing
Never show the real world like a workplace for you.

Despicable covered clothing
A sheath of apple and two timing pie:
Terse reprehensible verse
Taking reality on time of some guy’s interpretation of some guy’s interpretation.

Hold on! Catch some beats – there is rhythm in these streets;
And the message of the new century unfolding
Is that horror is not the old archaic armchair of the untold
Frightening night that might lose me
In the pleasure of anonymous spendthrift ways:
When stars pass as human beings
And dark partial truths follow wet nights and days.

Monsters of Game

Monsters of fame know the game that I name
But redrawers of old drawers cannot know the originality:
I claim! Stay with me & you will see. That is seeing,
And I am being. Keyboard, laptop & mouse:
If I am not grateful for my house –
Then who is the Conglomerate upon me
Greater than the North Sea and the airspace now governed by the School of Commoning
And evolutionary strains for more melody than harmony
| The right to not be repeated |
Poetry will not be defeated.
Even clowns have hands to stand on,
Do not admire the programmers’ random.

There is no-one to know how the space can be cleared
Fellows handle doorknobs for men being a different kind of fellow they fear.
Estimation is a cleverer way of describing the giving
That has not thanks in the miniature that is still living
After the wars of the East that fell down for the cleanest cocking
Of a gun to not know the right time to go door knocking
And find the Dame with the same man: Sing to me your Christmas plan.

Some games knew boards and the years bowled over wickets
So that the PLO could go underground and down below
The seas of the wavelengths for Mata’s density and travels
In the New Age of opened bowels and tortured remains
So that Puja could clean brains and Aarti told Saraswati:
‘Better the devil she knew’. Time is through with you
Clouds have fractures and health knows matters
Knowledge is in tatters and men know manners.

So be polite as Jews feminise the day
And hurry back home from the Christian who is Jolly Roger,
Tomorrow it is karma for the Muslim to have sway
As Mind Body Spirit stays with it for ‘Who is gay?

Microchip Romance

I came to see you
It was your asking
Stolen nighttime
Switches off
a century’s tale of lovers betwixt two microchips,
May some fat in the oven enlarge me
This aching Data uselessly touches the rising of my loins,
Cookies and dreams
consciousness’ streams.

What’s your ideal type?
Who are your fantasies?
Where can we get together?
What are the best trees to go planting?

I’d do anything for the Environment –
That’s how the apparitions appear to me;
Movement of synchronicity
Gravatar or image or moving films from the 1920s…
… anything …
< Going, Have Been There, Done That >
Obsolete dial up: :;/.%”-+;@: “Call me back!”

My information is not at your doorstep
Help is very far away.

Abandoned.
Isolated.

Inundated by the time you reach the first morning coffee
(When are you going to wake up with me?)
Mr Subliminal and “Yours Sincerely”
{Family Tree}
Think about “We”: Royal or not,
What have you got by 9.30 o’clock.

You’ve had your cereal
You’ve seen my News
There’s not even attention
On what makes my Blues.

Yet you deny me your access codes
You don’t download to me your privacy.

Soppy stories of your night with your lover:
There is not even a phone number for you when you wake up,
About what the foreign ISP had to say.

iYoga

The World is One Team
Yoga
Infinity
the bells are within me
Time
Centrality
It’s too soon for superficiality
Motions
Markets
Marrakesh
Crashing
What is the use of balancing on one leg?
Behind
Above
It’s different to chemicals in the Square Peg
Affront
Comfortableness
Special socks aren’t needed on the mat
Above
Below
There’s enough Qi for the men in a top hat
Around about
Within
These classes are selling out fast
Apart
Together
Chances are I’ll be leaving lessons last.

Time for a special chat with the teacher
He can’t try any harder with Apple and iPads
To get away from me pretending I am Jack Reacher
All inaction and no guns blazing to ongoing further.

Ingrained

Stencilled connection
The distance between poet and reader opened wide
The estuary of likeness that travels beyond time
To the ocean of universes elliptically wasting
Cataclysms possessing heavens and those down below
On true tribunes to the tryst with destiny that India
Had with Nehru long ago…

Galaxies and an earnest wanting,
A noble quest
Something unfathomed between you and me
Like a quality under the garment of jacket and cloak.
Take me to the place where daggers are not spent
And guardians will do the rest…
Quality, quantity, absinthe
Coil with me in a confused wrangling on the roof of cellular dismay
One day at a time for all the years of colonial fineries
Sharing a canopy of stars is fine
From nations without bars of rhyme
Reasoned like pepper spray and Salt Lake City for Thyme, Oregano and fault free Basil.

The notion to do best will wrestle with the dampening stars
That cannot travel far for the foot soldier sodomized by the smog
Suffocating with his Warthog and Angelic retribution:
Cost, Halo Wars, Statistics and U.N. Delegation.
The waters of Mars are mine again
And the envy of imagination is distressed
For the best dressed camaraderie to be or not to be,
In a city close to Delhi named after Buddha
For Maitreya to party with the Oracle of Delphi.
Go Miami Dolphins! Go!
The jacket is on you now
Scholar, mon amie, whore
The mirror’s by the door
If you don’t want me no more.

All was apparition and nothing was frilly
The nuanced receipts from Lakshmi were printed rather silly
Simple me, wallowing in the willow tree
Next to the best and the truest holy saree
Incapable of honesty
Before the river Styx of Saraswati
And the unending tyranny of an unearned Brahmin whose mentions were not few or far between
When the Indians were on the scene
Legacy and title showing the glory for put downs and
SLAM! It’s not 1993 – D’ya get me?
Quality, quantity, titular title is not for me.
The Queen is the Empress lately and I have a sadness upon me,
That I want the home away from home treatment
When school ends after something like a wannabe of a quarter past three,
Four,
Hum Paunch IMDb: <Sancho Panchez & Three Amigos> It always goes the same
A referent, time and the Inshallah brain.

They will never let me be in the salt marched city
Until he does it twice. Modernist Machiavellian
Cleverer than _
Undotted unto the last clasp of technology
Upon a city holidaying until his return and some shabbily dressed revoked soul
On recall from the pride of the Gods to be debutante before that which is known,
That which is unknown and that which is acted.
It is in fact, in-facted: Exactly!

Squalor, quality, factions and the quantity of threesomes, foursomes, fives in the school court
Blasé about the interpreted consort for the rhythm of Symphonies
And how does your music grow?
I don’t know the interpretation city
That cannot be outsourced from the centrality of bestiality and make shift down
For some Watership Down and the microchip that ran the rat race
All of this?

Is some of this
And the listless
drift.
Make believe and belong love did not last long
Unlike the Delhi song
And some bagels to down that depression
In an economic recession that cannot outshine well sprung mattress wars
Up against the doors for the fluff of it and outshone academies of bullet proof
Deadly certainties that all is well.
All is not well
When the pen is not like the quill
And the entrance holds me chill
For the effect of your lament on the children,
Stencil.