Friday, October 31, 2008

The Fantasy

Somewhere in some forgotten time
I am alive and kicking everything alive
Living a rich man's life, not making ammends
Living on a boat with supermodel girlfriends

In that time I have got servants
And I'm attending Page 3 events
Where sex and booze are overflowing
From parties to parties I am going

And there are people who are making queues
To get my autograph as I yell FUCK YOU's
I'm pissing on the world from my mighty tower
And everyone exults under the golden shower

In some filthy corner of the world
RSS people and ugly aunties are burning my effigy
While I sit in my mansion and drink vodka neat
Writing poems from a pool to ward off the heat


Alas, it's all a fantasy
The truth is bitter and cold
Even before I have started my story
I'm getting fat and old.


yeah and I am gonna do something about the tire aroung my waist now. GOD DAMN!!!

Tuesday, October 28, 2008


No want crackers
No want sweets
No want noise
No want heat

No want diwali this season
No want a rhyme or reason
No want with someone
No want bothered, when me alone

Me is sick of the noise
Me is sick of bad musical choice
Me is sick of uncool things
Me is sick of radio sings

Me is sick of celebration
Me is sick of shit on TV
Me is sick of this nation
Me is getting sick of me

Childish, immature, wrong grammar and senseless. I am tired of making any kind of discernable sense.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Drunk Again

Drunk Again

I do not drink to drown the pain
I do not drink cuz I'm insane
I do not drink in vain
I just like the taste of vod

I do not drink because I can
I do not drink cuz I am a man
I do not drink in a van (Will never do)
I just like to get high

I do not drink because my heart is broken
I do not drink cuz my wounds are open
I do not drink in company of others
I just like to be alone with my alcohol

I do not drink because its cheap
I do not drink cuz I am a creep
I do not drink cuz all friends do
I'd just like to drink with you


I mean, you tell me something better to do on a saturday night, when you are all alone?

Monday, October 20, 2008


I am drinking and I'm drinking
I am drinking and I'm thinking
I am thinking and I'm drinking
Most times I'm thinking and I'm thinking

Sometimes I am thinking of drinking
Sometimes I am drinking for thinking
Sometimes I am thinking for thinking
Most times I am drinking for drinking

There are times when I drink and think
There are times when I think and drink
Weekdays are when I think and think
Weekends are when I drink and drink

If there is a day when I stop drinking
If there is a day when I stop thinking
That day I will start thinking of drinking
And then I will start drinking for thinking.


Frankly, I never like to say that some poem of mine is good. But, for this one, let me make an exception, this has to be the most psychedelic shit I have ever written. Fuck, it makes me trippy just reading it again. Fuck fuck fuck, I'm awesome!

Gotta stop drinking. :P

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Chasing The Sun

Kris commented:: Possibly interesting factlet: at 4am on saturday morning (the time of the post) i was biking across maharashtra, almost alone (i.e. another friend pm his own bike in the distance)...i wanted to catch the sunrise in someplace i haven't been before. the chosen place was a beach at dahanu. bet you never thought of putting that into the poem :D

So, Kris bro, this is my poetic account of a mad dash to see the sun rise, somewhere in the year 2007, when a lot of friends, after a drinking party, got a thought to watch the rising sun from some fort near Ludhiana, where Rang De Basanti was filmed. It sucked, but the ride was worth it. Here goes

Empty bottles strewn across the floor
We've had a peg too many but we want more
And now someone gets up and asks for tea
They can go and fuck themselves, not me.

These fucks have left me alone in this place
The light from a laptop illuminating my face
I think I am watching a movie or somthing similar 
I should have been far far away, with her.

But then the phone rings and its the people gone for tea
The are going somewhere and they are coming to pick me
I am in no state to go anywhere I just want to lie down
But I also need to just get the fuck out of this town

So at 3 in the morning, 3 cars and mad lot all of us
Running over dogs, driving like fucks and acting obnoxious
No one knows the way to the Rang De Basanti fort for the action
But we drive on without bother in a general direction

Drunk drivers taking a chance with the life of all seated
No matter what happens, that night can't be repeated
Swearing and cursing like sailors on our way
One dude got so frisky we thought he was gay (he was just drunk

Then we reached someplace that was somewhere in that movie
A movie I had not seen cuz it wasn't too groovy
Patriotism gives me constipation to tell you the fact
But even without the movie reference that place was seriously whacked

A graffiti bombed relic with bricks crumbling by
Where we climbed rickety stairs to watch the sun rise
It wasn't that that big a fun, it surely wrecked the pics
And then the high was gone and I was wishing for a drink

Half asleep, Half sober
Somehow we made it back
Then I realised this shit was jacked
All the food was still packed 
But I guess all our stomachs were
filled with the view of the rising sun...

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Bored @ 4 AM

It's 4 AM
Old people walk out for walks
There are unknown birds making chirping outside
And Sun getting ready for another day
While I am drunk and thinking of you

There are The Beatles in my ears
And I think we have the same fears
Of tomorrow and the day after
And the whole fucking life ahead

Life is difficult, but I have alcohol
When it gets tough, for some time
I can afford to forget it all
And hope it will end up fine

Somedays I do not want to rhyme
Just want to kill someone and do jailtime
But I heard they don't have net in jail
How will I update my blogs and check my email?

Other days I do want to make sense
In this dull, dreary space devoid of romance
Maybe I should read a Mills and Boons
I wish I was born with silver spoons.

And anothe bored poem joins the hoard of shit

Is this it?

4.05 AM

Monday, October 13, 2008

The Chanting

You are listening to that song again
Drinking rum to drown the pain
Wondering if you are still sane
Silently whispering that name

You do not feel the darkness anymore
For it has seeped into your every pore
The silence is no longer haunting
Filled by your insistent chanting

The rest of the world stops to matter
Even death won't make it better
This rancid itch is here to stay
Itching a bit more than yesterday

You pick the scab to make it bleed
Some more pain is what you need
Who the fuck really needs to heal?
When the pain can make you feel...human again.

-----Now, if that got too sad and depressing, here is the kicker, in the balls----

I think we need more monkeys in these rhymes
People don't like to read pain and anger all the time
Maybe we can start with other animals too

Someone just like me or you.


There is going to be a collection post at A Story A Day today, around 23 hours from now. It might be fun, you might enjoy it, cuz I will enjoy writing it for sure.

Sunday, October 12, 2008


Your love is like a bomb
Ticking in my heart
Your love is like a sharp axe
Chopping me apart
Your love is like a chainsaw
Lodged in my jaw
Your love is like a lap dance
That made me go WHA!

Seriously, I could use some loving
And some company in drinking
Cuz sure as fuck I know tonight
I can not finish the full bottle alone

There will be a point by early morning
When I am too drunk to make my pegs
My thoughts will drift towards your legs
Oh, those slim, brown legs in the dim light

Your love is like ecstasy
You have got me running
Your love is like a 9MM
Babe, you got me gunning
Your love is like a full bottle of Vod
That I can not finish alone
I am too fucked up without you
Baby, please come home.

4.31 AM


Tuesday, October 7, 2008




Who has the time to read these days
Job and life take most of weekdays
Weekends are spent online surfing porn
From late night to early morn

and no one has the time to read

But others write on anyway
like this dude I know
Nothingman he goes by the name
and writing stories his game

Even though his concept is pretty gay
I mean, WTF, a blog called A Story A Day?
Its not even a daily story there
But then, that's not the case anywhere

This poem is kind of plug for this dude
Before him and me get into a fued
(I heard he writes his stories in nude)
I didn't say this, so I can't get sued

Oh let me not digress and come to the point
This dude is writing daily storis at his joint
So head over to ASAD from 6 to 12 October
Also, get them, him, him and her, to read

Leave the poor sod some comments, they might be crappy
But when he checks his mail it will surely make him happy
So move your ships to the ASAD port
The stories are real short
Do not snort
Even if they don't make sense
Enjoy the presence 
Of a fucked up psycho amongst you..


There, this is plug for my bro, friend, mentor and partner in crime, Nothingman. He is writing stories, weird, fucked up, violent, crazy, twist in the tale shorts, 100-150 words each. Go and tell them you came from Poetry.


Saturday, October 4, 2008

Giving Up On Mr. G

Someday, Life will give up on me
Like I gave up on drink few weeks back
Seems like a lifeitime has passed but now
I think I am going into withdrawal

It's Big G's birthday today
Should I celebrate in my own way?
But, Fuck, it is a dry day
This is gay
Mr. G wouldn't have approved anyway

Cuz I get pretty non violent with few drinks inside me


This was written on 2nd October...late night, wishing for a drink and also thinking how 90% of the fucking world will ignore the birthday of another of the great men of Indian politics LBS. Old rant. Oh well, there is a vodka fueled rant that I am populariszing all over the internetz...this is good, not as good as the poems we have here, but, close. Lot of F bombs, profanity and an overall disrespectful, offending and belligerent attitude towards the man whose picture graces most of the Indian currency. Oh, the write up, yesh, you can read it here :)

and, for people with a fucked up sense of humor, how about a dog called Fuck?

Friday, October 3, 2008

A Call to Odin

A dead god hangs high from a tree
For nine days and nine nights
An endless time
Listening to the whispers of the Strange Ones

The skin grows colder
Visions appear
On edge of life and death
Madness makes it all clear

A parched throat no longer
Waits for the rain
Tears of the gods
There shall be none, only pain

The wait finally ends
The blood seeps through the wounds
He walks again to rule
The land of the living and the dead

There is no reason I should be writing this, but something compelled me to do it. The Allfather god Odin was the principal god of Vikings. He hung on a tree for nine days and nine nights as his own wake, to seek knowledge and wisdom. It's all pretty fucked and in a lot of ways cool too. I love mythology, and you can ignore it if you want. Wiki Odin, it is a great deal of cool stuff to read.

Peace Out!