Saturday, May 24, 2008

Noxious Obnoxious

thoughts swirl in the vodka bottle of my mind
rancid rancor and flaccid joy of being
I do not know the meaning of the last line
Does Noxious Obnoxious mean anything?

sometimes i think why do i write
its a tough, lonely job and people don't appreciate
then i think why do i fight
with life and destiny and fate

i do not know the answer
but its Saturday
and today i do not care
monday is coming soon on my trail
I have only sunday to escape!!!

fuck it, i say, let's burn down all our rhetoric dogmas, karmas and belief
let life be a mad ride in the jaws of death
show me someone who has lived for one fucking breath!
but then again, the conundrum
if we fuck it all...
what will we fuck when we get horny again?

each other maybe?

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Space Monkey- The Sacrifice

It was made in the year 2008
The wooden rocket fueled by hate
The monkeys sent it up in the sky
For fuck's sake don't ask me why!

The lone monkey in the shuttle sat
Upside down like a bat
Pulling twines, pricking leaves and shit
Trying hard to control his ship

It spun above the deserted earth
The planet of lot of death and little birth
Like a needle in a directionless compass
The little monkey sat dejected on his ass

Then it saw a shadow emerge
A metal box with a poking arm
Same as the one inscribed in monkey scriptures
The one that brought harm, grievous harm

The little monkey felt so alone
Hanging in space, so away from home
And now, this misery of doomed destiny
The monkey wished he had stayed in his tree

What would Tankman do?

We were making fun of some bloggers in the past few poems for a change, we had fun.

Now, it's time to unleash some poetic pain on your brain :D

You have been warned!

Friday, May 9, 2008

The Orange Man

Garbage Picker
Thought Fucker
Creepy man
What is your plan?

If you are a guru
To Ho ja shuru!
But if you're not
Why act so hot?

Your poems are have fallen
Like polythene bags
that clog the drains
on a hot Sunday morning

Sometimes I think if a man can fall sick
It really can not be good for health
To stay for a such a long time, orgasmic
But what do i know, you got the spiritual wealth

Some number of poem on another of my favorite blogger poets. Mind it man and make my day!

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

The Criminal Poet

Yo Maan?
Who Da Faak Maan?
Who Da Faak Maan Do You Maan?
Who Da Faak, Who Da Faak, Do You Think You Are, Maan??
[Port's Note- For the benefit of those not conversant with gang lingo, the rest of the poem will be in normal English]

The sun rises from the middle of two mountains
And you have not yet broken your fast
You are sitting on the shitpot, writing poems, free-ing turds

You rhymes are like crimes
Of murder, suicide, rape and genocide
You have no bit of talent, you failent
and this fact you are too shameless to hide

You think the monkeys will save? You don't know it
When will you start to behave? Like a real poet
And write a poem with big words, unlike your turds
With some meaning, that is not understood by anyone

You think you can get away
By writing poems that are gay
So far you have done, but till when will you have fun
One day you'll get bored and get whored and Abohared

And you think you are something?
Well, breaking news man, you are nothing
You are Nothing man!

Abohared- means sent back to where I came from. Its a deep meaning type play on words.
I don't think anyone with eyes and ability to read has to guess who this poem is about.

This is third in the series of funny satarical poems on bloggers, friends and those I like to read.
You, my friend, just might be next!