The Lou Tag

Lou Tag
The very cool and wordly wise LD has tagged us on her blog. This one seemed interesting enough, and none of the other two blogs will take this one. So, readers of Poetry, you shall suffer. Here it comes.

If your lover betrayed you, what would your reaction be?
I'll kill her.

If you can make a dream come true, what would it be?
The world destroyed and me leaving for another better planet.

What do you do when your love is unrequited?
This has never been the case.

What would you do if you had a billion dollars?
Invest them till I have enough money to buy a spaceship.

Would you ever fall in love with your best friend?
No. 

Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?
Being loved.

How long do you intend to wait for someone you really love?
As long as she wants to take.

If the person you secretly like is already attached, what would you do?
Invoke the evil in me to arrange a break up for her and be the shoulder for her to cry on. Catch her from the rebound, I mean. 

What captures your heart the quickest?
Madness. Intelligence and a figure that other girls will kill for.

What would you be, ten years from now?
Stupider.

What do you fear?
Me.

What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
LD…well, intelligent, a little bit mad, dunno about her figure. (Note to LD-Pls post a pic so we can get this cleared out. hehehe.)

What's the first thing you do when you wake up?
Put the alarm on snooze.

Would you give all in a relationship?
'All' and 'relationship' are subjective, but in that one and only one type relationship. Yeah, everything.

If you love two people simultaneously, who would you pick?
The one who loves me back.

Would you forgive and forget, no matter how horrible a thing that special someone has done?
No.

If you get to go back in time and fall in love all over again, would it still be with the same person?
Definitely. Never seen a better figure than hers. oh and intelligence and madness too.

Well, now to pass on the germs of the tag. I tag, you, you and you, and you who just went and hid behind the chair. Let me know if you do this tag.

When

When I was nothing 
But a little bunny
Life was amazing
Life was funny

Now I go to office
To earn monthly money
Life is dull
Life is runny (like a nose)

When I was a bunny
I used to fuck
Every girl bunny
Who had good luck

Now I sleep alone
In my home
And girls don't ever call me
Even on the phone

---

When I was a bunny. A poem about reincarnation. Have you seen the awesome rant blog, The Fucked Up? No? :O go watch it now!

MindSharks

The water swirls in the washbasin of my mind
Soapy, froathy and bubbling like lava
Something breaks through the surface for a second
Sharp angry teeth are all I can find

I am looking at myself in third person
Watching this strange boy float in dirty water
He won't give and sink like a stone
He keeps surfacing like the water is getting hotter

The MindSharks maul him turning the water pink
They hungerily bite off chucks of his essence
He is not screaming just mildly surprised
Broken and bloody he finally starts to sink

Now I am looking at the MindSharks circle overhead
In the cold water so cutely pink and red
Though I am lying foetal, sweating in my bed
My only thought is I should be dead

-------

A poem about the mind and about MindSharks.

More coming soon! Keep an eye on this space :)

Believe

I refuse to see
The reasons
The lessons
The mistakes in me

I refuse to hear
The screams 
The dreams
The calling of fear
 
I refuse to speak
The anger 
The madness
The victory of the geek

I refuse to believe
Your lies
Your truth
Your reasons to grieve

I will not

I will not ask for you love,
Or attention.
I will not ask for your time,
Or dissention.
I will not ask for a kiss
Or the time i've been missed.

I will just lie here waiting for the end of the world.

--
Sent from my mobile device

The Monsteress

The Monstress from the Deep!!

Ugly, broken, heavily scarred
An image after my own heart
You rise like a wound from the sea
I know you are coming for me

Your eyes hidden behind the seaweed
None has seen one of your breed
Your hungry lips speak my name
Pray tell, what is this game?

You swim and splash through the waters dark
Like taking a stroll through the park
I wake up from this dream in my bed
My heart sinks like its made of lead

I feel you coming from a mile away
With your cries the night seems to sway
Finally, at my window you are seen
Oh love, where the fuck have you been?

------

And where the fuck have you been?

Dormant

The monster sleeps, while the world around him crumbles, to tiny
pieces of dust, mud and ash.
When he wakes up he will ask for cash. Lots of cash.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Underwear

I'd crawl through 30 miles
of 3 feet deep dog shit
at noon in middle of sahara desert to sniff the hubcap of the laundry truck
that carried
her
dirty
underwear. -anon.
..........
Not written by me. Just something i remember from long time ago:)

--
Sent from my mobile device

Coffee

The tendrils of smoke,
From the coffee
Mug on my desk,
Make me wish i were
In a sunkissed kitchen, with a newspaper for company on an early sunday morning.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Winter

The days have gotten shorter
and the nights colder
this house stinks of loneliness
and wet clothes

the bed is so cold alone
and my heart is frigid ice
this house is not yet a home
and it doesn't feel too nice

I'll dream of water yet again
and in that dream I'll drown
everything seems to bring me down
When you are not around

the winter is ready to pierce my soul
and just like the days I am feeling small
nothing left to do but think of you
and feel warm knowing you're thinking of me too

Shut Down The World

Shut Down The World

Pull the plug
Flush the shit
Nuke the living
Bury the dead with it

Throw the lever
Spread the fever
Make the world hurt
Fill the wounds with dirt

Blast it all to pieces
Rid the earth of all the species
Make the danger sirens wail
Death is available today in sale

Empty machine-guns in this hole
They want everything? Give them all
Fuck it all to infinity and beyond
Let's see if their gods stand their ground

Wound Up

I've got a maniac grin on my face
I am running with scissors in this race
I've got 1000 monkeys on my back
I'm ready to kill, fuck, die, attack!

Feeling like a timebomb reaching zero
All ready to blow up, not waiting for a hero
Feeling like taking this planet down with me
I've been all of us, there's nothing left to be

I am the tension that needs a mention
I am confident in my apprehension
I am stalking the night, on Death's wing
I am the Alpha, Omega, The Nothing

Wound up
I give a fuck
Want some?
I'll fuck you up

The Fight

Softcore
Such a whore
Done once
Asking for more

Intentionally bored
When the drinks are poured
No one has scored
Tonight, everyone will sleep alone

The bed I'm in is cold
And it is getting colder
We all fold into pieces
As we get older and bolder

The song she once sang remains unheard
There are only screams in my ears
I sometimes make weapons out of my words
When I have to fight with my fears

--------

Someday I do not want to make sense. This is one of those days.

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

But

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!!!

NO WANT

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.

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?

Thinking/Drinking

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

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...

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

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.

Please

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

Fuck.

THE ASAD POEM

THE ASAD POEM

Seriously,

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
anything.

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.

Cheers!

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?

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!

I...

I,

Mad

Angry

Rotten

 

I,

Broken

Alone

Forgotten

 

I,

Bleeding

Confused

Abused

 

I

Pissed off

Pissed on

Used

 

I

Weird

Zapped

Fucked

 

I,

Tired

Lost

Sucked

I

Alive

Alive

Alive

----------

Just going through the drafts I found this one, written some six months back. Just thought I'd share. This is for all the fucked up people. Cheers!

Wings

Grinding we be
Into eternity
Thoughtless machines
Working working working

We are all around ye
Why can't you see
Us, heartless freaks
Hauled into humble humility

A hope to be free
For you to fly with me
Our wings brutally torn
Before being born

The joy in the sadness
Is the method in our madness
To you all we must confess
We love the pain pain pain

!

There IS a poem underneath this post.

I do not post links on this blog, but this blogpost by Soubriquest at his blog Grit in the Gears caught my attention and I felt I should share this with the few(1-2-3?) readers I have. 

A poem was banned. This is double publicity, much like getting an award. Heck, better than an award. Check the post by clicking here.

Enjoy!

N

Sea of Shit

There is a time to say Oh NO!
There is a time to say FUCK IT!
There is no time better than now
When you are neck deep in shit

There will be no splashing or swimming
The sea of shit will drown your soul
This shit will make you puke your intestines
From your mouth and your asshole

There is no coast or no beach to this sea
You are floating here all alone
But, there are flies and vultures, you see
To accompany you to the final home

So drown fucker drown
In the yellow and the brown
I dare you to open up and scream
Swallow shit, this is not a dream

-----------

Better to be pissed off than to be pissed on. 

Thank YOU!

We have just achieved 10,000 hits according to the statcounter dashboard. Thanks to everyone who has been reading :)

In no particular order:: D, Shimmer, Orgasmik, Jeevy, Zedekiah, Alesea, Island Girl, Lucid Darkness, Rex Venom, KB, Noah, Alcoholic Poet, And all the people who read and never leave a comment.

We highly appreciate you reading these poems and we thank you from the bottom of a barrel of monkeys. There must be monkeys. Always.

So, may your gods always bless you and may your paths be filled with lights, may the road you travel be smooth and your tank always full, and may you ride hard and fast into the sunrise of your dreams. 

More poetry shall continue after this. 

N

Kicked in the Balls

Kicked in the Balls

I got kicked in the balls
by a shiny pointed heel
that belonged to the foot of a 
smooth white leg
I dropped my peg
and dropped with it
to the floor
gasping
and trembling
in pain and fear
like a fish out of water
with imminent death so clear

And then she bent down to look at me
With an apology in her eyes
Half my pain vanished when
embarassed, she said 'Hi'
I am so fucking sorry
that I hit you like that
I just saw your back
and I thought you were Matt
this is just a misunderstanding
so let me buy you a drink
then i'll check if you are ok
she said with a wink

You see where this is going?
I bet you think you do
But the kick in the balls didn't happen to you
(Not valid if you are a girl)
Cuz soon she got me drunk 
then she called Matt
I woke up in a car's trunk
Head bruised by a baseball bat

Now I'm left with no money
And I'm left with no honey
Just hurting balls and hurting head
And a poem that is mildly funny

====

This is a prime example of how NOT to write a poem. The structure rolls around the body of the poem like hands of a drunkard on a woman. DO NOT attempt this at home, yours or someone else's, or in a cybercafe.

;)

Wither

**This is not about me, it is about something I read recently. I do not write these kind of poems  generally, but this one just flowed, oh and it has no monkeys. Damn. Here goes.

When I was a kid just like you
I felt these 'things' called emotions
As childhod passed those did too
Now I just move through empty motions

Sometimes I sift through this thing called my soul 
It's all ashes, dirt, debris, and smoke 
But at the bottom something crawls through a hole
I watch it and I laugh and cry till I choke

Now, I'm not looking for a happy ending
Because I have seen the future, it looks grim
I have fucking had it with all this pretending
As I get fatter, my hope gets thin

I just long for the chaos in my head
Each disorder an ending in its own
Whatever I do, I know I will be dead
Unloved, unforgiven and unknown.

Carry On--The Poem of Planes

Carry On--The Poem of Planes

I see aeroplane pass over my house
And I wonder why do they need headlights
What is the traffic in the sky?
Having headlights is an insult to radar

Then inside my room I sit alone
The planes still pass by overhead
I got no one to talk to but I got internet on
And lot of books in my laptop that I have read

Sometimes the planes make a lot of noise
It gets through the headphones that I wear
I like it because I do not have a choice
It's cool when you make friends with what you fear

Now I've got my eyes on the skies
There was a moon somewhere, that I can't see now
Just like I can't see through your lies
Still, I carry on with you somehow

The Horror In Dark

The Horror In Dark

A silent shadow twists in the half light
I step forth cautious, in fright
Curiousity is taking out the best of me
What is it there, that I can't see?

Was it a sigh I heard or a whisper?
Did it just speak my name or have I misheard?
The cat of curiousity it all alert
And the fear inside me is ready to spurt.

But what is this, now behing me!
The sound turned around me!
Did a shadow just pass through me?
What was it that I failed to see?

Claws made of steel dig in my back
So surprised I didn't see the attack
This eldritch creature lured me
Fucking Psycho Time Traveling Monkey!!!!!

Hey Monkey!

* This is something different, not the usual monkey bullshit that I write, this poem is actually about a monkey in love. Really. What? You don't trust me? :O read on then!

Let's lie together
I want to hear that you love me
It would be so much fucking fun
To see a talking monkey

So, talk monkey talk
Tell me some words of wisdom
That I have known all along
Just want to hear them from you

You can't run away today
You can't jump away from this
You are trapped in a puzzle
That is sealed with a kiss

So, walk monkey walk
Walk this path made of nails
There is never truly an end, is there?
It's all just pain then everything fails
------
I am so clever 'cuz I used the word "lie" for a double meaning in the first line!

Go me! :D

Shouldn't have trusted me :P 

Love Monkey

Love Monkey

The monkey sat sad in his tree

Waiting, abating, masturbating
Thinking of her

The fruits no longer appealed to him
Hating, grating, just not mating
With girl monkeys

The sky was always full of clouds
Staining, gaining, always raining
On his head

The other monkeys laughed at him
Howling, growling, he kept scowling
At himself

-------
Yes, monkeys do fall in love.

Monkeys in L0v3

Well, since no one is coming to this blog and reading poems (except maybe the spam bots) so I think it is time to do something drastic, like, write shitty love poems, with monkeys in them. 

You read it right, stay glued to the blog and keep hitting refresh, you are about to be fucked off your feet. This is going to be nothing like the web has not seen before.

Love and monkys, who would have thought, well I DID!

Monkeys!!!!

Lot of people email me to ask about the origins of the eternal conflict between Monkeys and Tankman. Today, I shall try to explain the origins of the lore, though the tale is shrouded by the dirty laundry of time travel and the future that we all might or might not have to face. To put it in simple layman terms, the Monkeys won over us all sometime in the future. Mankind fucked itself over, without any protection and died without any warning. But, ah the lovely but, one survived and maybe the one would restart the computer of humanity...who knows. 

Here are the origins of the lore, the somewhat fogged and unclear description of what really happened...

How It All Ended and How It All Began

When the human race was destroyed
The animal kingdom was overjoyed
They planted trees in minefields
The animals ate all the cheese

Soon, no sign of humans remained
Four legged beasts walked in times square (or what was left of it)
Radiation gave them cancer in the brain
Highly intelligent they all became

The one species that was the best affected
The monkeys grew strong in flesh and intellact
Supremacy over all they accepted, because
You just don't argue with an intelligent 12 foot monkey

But somewhere the light bulb of hope flickered
A boy woke up inside inside a tank, alone
He picked up his father's fumer
And swore to eliminate the monkeys

The day of reckoning shall come
When The Tankman gets his driving license
He will drive his tank out of the darkness
And teach the monkeys some fucking sense

-----------------------

How many monkey poems have we written? Anyone up for the count?

Drunk Worms

Alright, before you start reading this one, there is a new poem below
this too. Here we go.

-------

There are drunk worms in my drink
But I will drink them too I think
They look real crunchy and anyway
I bought beer but forgot Kurkure*

I got worms at the bottom of this bottle
Which I got from the bar of a hotel
Somewhere in the past decade or so
Will I throw it away? Oh no!

So, I pour this drink into my glass
And I raise a toast to her ass
Shit, I think a worm just winked at me
Or maybe closed his eyes

I think this drink is real real good
The worms have all become swimmers
If floating is a style, they will excel
Floating like something dead...oh well
--------------
No, I am not drunk, today, will be tomorrow so expect more psycho poetry.
I'm planning to get a LOT of drunk tomorrow, Vodka season is here :D

Free Worse

I have become the perfect geek
I spit data bytes when I speak
Might be a geek, but I'm not meek
For, I shall inherit the earth

When the monkeys are done with it.

I'm downloading all day and all night
I'm somehow obsessed with being right
But, I do not care if I'm wrong
We all know we have heard this song

Cuz we have downloaded it before

I have not seen the sun in 23 days
I quite like lesbians, but I'm scared of gays
My skin is bleached clean of all things brown
I'm too lazy of coming and going around

God, give me a Segway
--------------
Most people think I'm joking when I saw I am a shitty poet. HA!

The Sentimental Poem

The Sentimental Poem

People do not like poems about monkeys
People get riled by genius
They feel bogged down and fucked up
When a word rhymes with monkey

People do not like poems about fun
People do not like poems about tanks
People like poems about getting bored
And I stuff my poems with search engine keywords

People do not like poems about animals
People like poems about sex and drugs
People might like poems about lesbianism and gays
What do I know, what can I say?

People like poems about loss and love, I think
People like stupid poems, 'cuz they are stupid too!
There is lot of stupid people coming to this blog
The Lord of Idiots, ME! not you!
----------
A brilliant example of SEO poetry :)

Holding On

The song that I used to sing
what we shared in between
it was mine, it was yours
it was a whole lot more

Night after night
neither darkness nor light
stood a chance to stop
what once began

It isn't this
and it isn't that
but it's enough
to keep us afloat

Sometimes through laughter
other times through pain
we went to memory lane
and we were us again

Now I sing a different song
I wait for you to sing along
let's do this now
and do it again

Guest Writer

----

We all need something to hold on to, an anchor for the soul.

*N says [woo!]

The Last War

I sent a monkey into space
With a grin plastered on his face
The monkey flew and never came back
All his bananas I had myself packed

I sent a tank in space too
It was a tank all painted blue
It floated among the angry stars
It started wars

I sent a car into space for free
Where it recorded the war and mailed it to me
At first it never made any sense
And still it doesn't.

I wrote the last war between monkey and tank
Today my salary got deposited in the bank
But I am writing poems that are strange
Some things deranged they never change
---------------
I think I will spare you all the pain and make this the last monkey poem.

Ha ha, kididing!

Sparrow

Drip by drip
The vacuum fills
With even more nothing

You fall asleep
Dreaming of sea
It's ok if its not me

And in my dreams
The shadows crawl
But I no longer scream

Because I remember
The December
The moment that was mine

So fly away sparrow
I guess your time has come
And I can hear mine approaching

---------
This is for a friend who is leaving for strange lands. All the best love.

What is it?

<Photo 1>

Is this madness?
Is this love?
Is this hate?
Or all of the above?

Is this war?
Is this a car?
Is this a guitar?
Am i going to far?

Is this a joke?
Is this a rock?
Is this a poke?
Does anyone do that anymore?

Is this wall marta?
Is this fucked-art-a?
Is this a cart-a?
Fuck off bitch, THIS IS SPARTAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

----------

300 the movie still rules! Have you seen the 300 spoofs?

oh, and the poem is crossposted on my facebook notes :)

No Secrets

Orkutized
Facebooked
My Spaced
Twittered

My privacy lies in tatters
My secrets no more matter
By social networking I am hogged
My whole life has been blogged!

I daily Google my own name 
To sate my monster ego
And I know I'll be seen on facebook
To whichever party I go

I check my email 60 times a day
To see how many blog comments I got today
I always wanna know what people say
Even if they say that I am gay

Now I'm trapped like a fly in world wide web
I'm happy there is no escape from this
I'm always afraid that if I die
It's the Internet I'd hugely miss

The Monkey Is Us

The Monkey Is Us

You can look for monkeys

You can look for tanks
When shit hits the fan
Remember to say thanks!

There is a monkey for each one of us
There is a tank meant for each monkey
Life is just like riding on a bus
One crash can make you look funky

Maybe we are all monkeys without tails
And living life is a series of fails
We should be climbing trees and eating bananas
With hair all over, a long tail and a red ass

Monkey poems always get good hits
I don't know why people search for them
So, I just rhyme with whatever fits
Da da da, de de de, dem dem dem

---
we are getting regular, keep ur eyes open!

Thanks! Motherfuckers!

Thanks to all the bloggeratti Motherfuckers. You have been bringing me a lot of hits (100+) by pasting the link of my blog in your fucking little orkut scrapbooks.

Fuck you all. You can all fuck off from this blog and die on the train tracks for all I care. Your poems suck worse than my poems and you are NOT creating awareness. Besides, you are all fat and ugly.

regular readers, I apologize for the disturbance, I mean a poet has to deal with the stupidity of the people in his own ways. There will be a poem on "The Eternal Conflict" tomorrow. 

Can't forget the monkeys can we?

Oh, by the way have you seen the rocking pink header at A Story A Day? No? have a look, link is on this page somewhere. :)

Motherfuckers

The group got together at last.
They all wanted to take action fast
Let's take something that's sensitive they said
The all sat together and scratched their heads

One said I know let's write about pollution
Other said no man, to pollution there is no solution
Another said let's write about the corruption in the system
Got a reply, hey even we do it to get work done

Then various topics got thrown in the air
They all ended with neither here nor there
Scrabbling at the mess their thoughts had become
None of the topics could give them any fun

The one fucker found out someone's pain they could use
Hey fuckers let's write poems about child abuse.
--------
Give pens to monkeys and this is what will happen.
Motherfuckers all.

The Lava Of Life

The lava of life is
slowly overpowering me
Dead, I want to stay
but life is forcing me to scream

I spit out empty words from my parched tongue
There is only hate and anger in my lungs
I want it all to die but still I breathe
In my own impotent hell, like living lava,
I seethe
---
that's all folks!

I LOL at your pain

LOL motherfucker!
You are, like, totally insane
You rot in your misery
While I LOL at your pain

I ROFLMAO when you talk
I think WTF when I see you walk
You're not good enough for heaven, not bad enough for hell
But I gotta say, you make me LOL

IDK what it is about you
That makes me LOL
Maybe it's your stupid face
Or the fucked up things you tell

Your pain means nothing to me
I'm already LOL, are you fuckin blind to see?
Your tears are wasted as you weep in the mud
Get the fuck up and make me laugh, you dud.

--------

There is a new story up at www.fubar69.blogspot.com. Have a look, read it and comment, or kick your own ass.

Ha ha LOL!

Torrents

I watch my torrents download

Torrents swirl in my mind
As I sit and watch them download
On my slow internet connection
The geek in me is somewhat un-satisfied

For I have heard of 2MBPS legends
In the lands far far away
Where people watch movies as they stream
If I could do that, I'd all but scream

But in this moment all I have is this
A study in patience and dogged determination
Of an inbuilt propensity for slow and steady
Even though I know I won't win the race like this

So, I watch my torrents download
Music, comics, books and porn for fun
Even though I can not upload
I will someday, in the times to come

Hey amigo!

I was walking down the road with a Dew in my hand
Not caring about the world or trying to understand
Global warming or pollution don't give me no sweat
This planet is fucked up and we dare not forget

But hey amigo
Where else can we go?

I woke up on Sunday and had a sip of Dew
Newspapers told me the news of me and you
We were famous for our 15 minutes and soon will be gone
I was fucking sad to think, I'd be sleeping alone

But hey amigo
Who else do the papers know?

I went to the office after breaking fast with dew
The world looked down and beaten, pasted with glue
It was Monday morning what else did I expect?
Got kicked from the job with a 40K check!

But hey amigo
..did you say 40K? Woah!!

When evening came I fell in love with a girl
She was drinking dew and my heart did unfurl
I stood and stared as that ichor dripped from her lips
As she left I stood there staring at her hips

Oh hey amigo

Is this love again? oh NO!

-------------

Hey amigo, comment, no!

ONE YEAR POST!!

This blog has completed one year

Huzzah! to all the readers, commenters, linkers, weird stuff searchers and in short everyone who ever pointed their unfortunate browsers to the URL of this blog.

I have BIG things planned for this blog in the near future.

We are going to monitize this blog, we gonna get a cooler template, a FUCK load of google ads and then make FUCK loads of Money to buy A NEW INTERNET CONNECTION!!! An Mp3 player, and comics, and books and maybe some food and clothes but the big reason>>>> so that we can write MORE poetry at REGULAR basis!! :D

Right, please wish me luck in the comments section, if you have any suggestion please say so, and if you have always read but never commented on this blog, now is the best time to de-lurk!

Cheeers !!

here's to another year and more!

N

Whored

Something must break in a man
For something to be achieved
To sow the seeds for future
Old deaths have to be grieved

The darkness must be present
To feel the existence of light
The conflict should ferment inside us
If we are to win, we have to fight

The poison must be consumed
For life to be resumed
In the name of being alive
Everyday, we have to die

A man must be bored

And his soul shamelessly whored

To breathe in the stench of truth

For, we need money even to write poems.

-------------------

We die a little everyday, with every decision we make.

Freaking Weird Oldies

I almost got run over by a Brahma bull and nearly fell from my bike

Near a big old tree

Where old men with white beards and white kurtas

Sit reading newspapers and chat

About whose daughter in law is the hottest

About the girl who ran away with her boyfriend, for a week

And who is going around with the colony maid, this month.

They talk of some zero figure model

One says he wants to buy the iphone

I can even bring myself to say WTF

Who knows some of these oldies might have blogs?

-----------

Oldies talk the dirtiest things. It's even worse than college kids. Freaking Weird Oldies.

Slave to Caffine

Gimme Coffee 
Gimme Mountain Dew
Gimme Red Bull
Or I'll drink YOU!

I don't want no water
I don't need no rain
When the weather gets hotter
Gimme Mountain Dew again

I like my coffee sweet
In the winter or in heat
I am a slave to caffeine
I hope you know what I mean

There is no better rush
Except maybe the hush hush
But I'd stick to caffeine
Better than everything in between

Back Again

There is a time and there is a season
There is a rhyme for every reason
There is a time for war, a time for fun
This poem is not about anything or anyone

There is a girl awake till 2 at night
There is a boy who is not feeling allright
There is a time for waking up, a time for sleeping
This poem is not for shadows that are creeping

There is a dog howling in the street
There is a man sweating in the heat
There is a time for screaming, time for crying
This poem is not about living or dying

There is a clock that is ticking fast
There is a song that is not going to last
There is a time to work and time to play
This time I'm back and you are also here to stay.

breaking news

The news has broken like water from a damn, i won't be posting on this blog for some time to come. Like any of you gave a fuck anyway. My other blog  A Story A Day will be getting the attention that it has been missing... so if you are interested in reading prose, head on to www.fubar69.blogspot.com otherwise, don't care, don't give a fuck...you know i don't bother and i won't

bah

hope your poetry muses are gelling well with you

N

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?

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!

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!

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
Bastard.

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!
;)

The Ark Man

He sits alone in a park
Just surrounded by the dark
He can not hear the dogs bark
Cuz he is busy building a Poetry ARK!

Yes, to save all the poems in the world
One man will let his madness unfurl
Armed with a laptop and an internet connection
He will rebuild ARK of Poetry after damnation

With a poem a minute, he's a man with a mission
His blog is eats up words as they get written
This man don't care if his words are being read
I say again, this man has madness in his head

So, night turns to day and still this man writes
With forces of law and sleep this one man fights
The cops take away his laptop and throw him in jail
Now he writes on the walls, every hour without fail

But how will he post those poems on his blog?
----
Woah Man Woah!

The Bottles Of Frustration

She is drunk
On some vile liquid
again
And there is a dick-tionary
of big-ass words
in her brain

She got fucked
when she was drunk
So that late she could
write poetry about it

She hates the sex
but loves the pain
like all stupid poets
she too is fucked in the brain

Misandrist*
Drunk
Poet
Sore
In the head
and down there.

(someone who hates men)
---
I do not know about anything else but reading this blog beats reading the dictionary! But seriously, one time inspiration for me to write. One amazing blogger+poet, who I guess I have just offended.
Oh well, not the last, not the first.

More coming your way! Get in line, bitches!

hello?

is this thing on?

Let's take a lil break!

Have a kit kat buddy! This is break time.

This is one of those rare non poem posts on this blog, that make it through when I have to say something to YOU!
So, in the past few weeks we have written a lot of poems and the weird this I have been noticing is that this blog is getting a LOT of keyword hits, there has been a poem down there somewhere about it. But keyword hits mean zilch, because there is no way of knowing that those people have read it or not, did they find the poems nice? or worse? or whatever.

Keyword surfers never leave comments. So, if you are one who is reading this right now, prove me wrong!

Anyway, to the fact of the matter. I was sitting in office and thinking, which I do very rarely, I think all Constant Readers know my aversion to thinking, dangerous thinking this...animal called Thinking. But then, I thought, and I thought about poems on the blogs. How many of them are saying what they want to say? Because, somewhere between the lines, the meaning is getting lost [not passing judgment on anyone,  just my observations]. Because from where I see it,  people are writing poems for the sake of writing poems, or do they really have something to say?

Personally, I do not like the cliched stuff 'out there' I mean come on, I'm reading your blog, give me something that will make me go WOAH! or make me laugh, or make me cry, or make me smack my head on the keyboard and die bleeding on this one. Surprise me, amaze me, disgust me. Don't give me something same like 1000 other places on the www, please, pretty please with a cherry on top!

FUCK! Some of the poems out there leave me numb. Where is the feeling? So,uhm, well, I'm going to do something about it. In Rhyme. In all good fun though. Fun like, poking you in the kidneys with a poison coated sharpened lollypop.

There shall be Poetry. About YOU! Oh fuck yeah, now won't that be funny! Won't be taking any names here for protecting the privacy of the bloggers. But come on, nothing like a friendly dig on you, heck if you can guess the poem is about you, maybe get it framed and hang it on top of your bed!

Right, so to sum up. I do not like some of the poems out there and I'm going to make fun of them. In Rhyme.

See you tomorrow, get your guessing cones out of the cupboard and let's have some fun!

(:

YBMMSBILP

<b>Your Blog Makes Me Sleepy But I Like Your Pain</b>

Your misery turns me on like a zing
And I want to rub salt in your wounds
Pain can be a really funny thing
As long as it's happening to you

I see your words of apocalyptic pain
I read you bitch and read you complain
But all your moaning is in vain
Cuz you don't know, your God is insane

Frankly honey, ranting on a blog isn't going to help
What you sucked and who you fucked will send you to hell
I will not be wrong in saying you are halfway there
Don't scream 'Help!' in my face, :) I don't care!

I'm not sorry that I find your condition funny
Like a shark attack on a beach that is sunny
Your words are boring and you make me sleepy
I read your blog to fall asleep, now ain't that creepy?
-=-=-=-=-=-=
I want to love you madly.

The Hits

It does not matter
If I update or not
Cuz' the hits keep on coming
Like flies on rotting shit

Like vultures on a camel carcass
Like boys after a single girl
Like America after oil
Like people looking for poems

Poems about monkeys
Poems about getting fucked in sleep
Poems about being eighteen
Poems about telling someone to fuck off

I do not know these people
These people do not know me
But they come looking for something
And that is what surprises me

Because I can understand people looking
For poems on monkeys
But a poem on tankman?
Is there someone out there so bored?!

I guess there is, cuz that keywords hits my blog everyday
In different sentences, in different ways
Still people do not bother to stop and say
Hey man, how you doin, i digg your poems everyday

-=-=-=-=-=-=
Statcounter rulez!

This Again The Same

History fucking repeats itself
Old doubts will always linger
In the back of your mind
And hit you in behind
-when you are not looking

Old enemies are never really dead
They have their guns aimed at your head
You can show them the finger
But they will shoot you point black
-when you are looking in the wrong place

Ex-partners still have your cell-number with them
The  ass-es don't know the meaning of 'fuck off!'
They write your number all over the internet
And you get calls from random horny men
-when you are updating your blog

Old sins will come back to haunt you
Each good deed left undone
Won't it be fun, walking in the sun
Laughing at crying at what you have done
-when you should have been doing others.
-=-=-=-=-
Ok, fuck it. This too will come back to haunt me someday.
Anyone made any sense out of it?

The Poem That Is Not

The Poem That Is Not

and now, the world slowly dissolves
in the space between a blink and a tear
everything has ended but there is
just us, you and me

and now, maybe we can talk about philo
or how the movies of our lives were too short
or religion if you like
or maybe we'll just look
at each other

and now, we have all the time
that we never had earlier
we can be here with each other till...god knows when
and then maybe sleep a little

oh i will Not talk about monkeys if you say
but can i talk of the tankman anyway?
if not him can we talk of Nothingman
the pearl jam song, we could never understand.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
This is how poems should not be written.

To explain, this poem is about four different people, three verses for three girls that I value a lot in my life, and the fourth one, is for you dear reader, because, well, you had it coming! :D. Just visualizing the end of the world with my favorite people.

The Shark Of Imagination

The Shark Of Imagination


Crack them finger and them ringers.
Fuck all the hype and get ready to type

Swim in the ocean where words are the fish
Sift out all those ideas and all these
There are no oysters or pearls to be found
Just an abundance of fishies all around

Watch out there's a shark
and it is coming for you
This is sea, not a park
No one can hear you cry buhoo

Ok, the shark is gone now
You can continue to fish
Whoops! The shark chops you in half
Your legs are gone, all that's left is a scarf

This is what you get for swimming in a mad ocean
This is mad country some call it Imagination
Rhymes pretty well with the word Desperation
And no one really knows of your situation or condition.

---
Weird did I hear you say?
heh, nah.

The Last Tank

The Last Tank On Planet Earth

Rolling down the hills
Mowing down the trees
Scaring away the birds and bees
And the monkeys

The last green monster on planet earth
Is a tank born of death's hearth
Inside the tank the Tankman drives
Everyday they want to kill him, he survives

The monkeys watch from trees up above
Their little hearts full of hate, as they fuck doves
The Tankman hears the doves cry out
The monkeys know, and joyous they shout

But the plot to lure Tankman out does not succeed
Tankman eats doves for dinner, he knows that they bleed
The monkeys now look for something else to eat
The last tank on earth drives out in the heat
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The first thing I find funny is how everyone matches 'above' with 'love' or 'dove'. The vision here is a world destroyed and taken over by trees and monkeys, a futuristic jungle and the Tankman is the lone tank driver left in the world, and he has vowed to avenge humanity's death from the monkeys. The monkeys on the other hand are way too many.
Here, Tankman fouls another foul plan of monkeys to be 1up on him.

The Battle Continues.

Who The Fuck?

Who the fuck am I?
A wallet full of money?
A boy who is funny?
A bucket to dump your shit in?
When things get shitty and runny

Who the fuck am I?
A promise for the future?
A messiah of for the nature?
An "I love you too" saying fuckhead
When you need your comfort?

Who the fuck am I?
A shoulder to cry on?
A shoulder to put your gun on?
A weapon for your final plan
When shit hits the fan?

Who the fuck am I?
A fubar storyteller?
A poet who is so full of shit that his eyes are brown?
A writer earning his keep by writing stupid shit?

Who the fuck am I?
Who the fuck am I?
Maybe all these things and more
Cuz if not these, then what? I'm not sure
Am I me anymore?
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Existential Dilemmas...because for a writer to write, conflict is necessary. Happy people seldom create good art.

just some thoughts

Writing poems is being dangerously close to truth and storytelling makes lies interesting. Now, as a poet and a storyteller I'm torn between the two. Some days it gets hard making the distinction and walking that fine line...but the other days when the hot chainsaw of imagination rips through the butter of life, those days are worth all the stupid days.

People, have faith. There is not need to believe, just have faith. In God, in imagination, or in Mountain Dew, on for the extremists, The Monkeys,[ now that I've said it] or the Tankman.

Having faith is the key.

Hope life is treating you all well....

We shall be back with more madness this week :D

April is here!!

The MonkeyTron

The soul of a man is but Version 1
But monkeys have come from the sun
Raping dinosaurs to breed humanity
Monkeys can count till infinity

For thousand of years the monkeys have seen
What humans can do and what they have been
But now a new messiah will rise
A prophet to take mankind by surprise

The MonkeyTron!!!!!

His eyes of fire, burning like the sun
All female monkeys scream "He is the One!"
While the male monkeys rub their tails in jealousy
The MonkeyTron has arrived to salvage humanity

He sits on the Tower of Babel alone
His words drifting to radio frequencies unknown
He will speak till mankind is done and gone
For, he is, The MonkeyTron!!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Warming up the fingers that love writing monkey poems. Next, we have a poem about TankMan. Please check out the links to the left for rest of the monkey poems. Yesh! Lots of keywords. Hail Google!

(:

The Problem

I have a problem
With myself
And that is
That I have too many problems
With things around me
The people that surround me
The things in air, ground and the sea

Because, somewhere,something is fucked up
Somewhere something is not right
Somewhere someone is dying for life
Somewhere someone gives up without a fight

But I that is the way the world works
It turns and turns for me, us and them
And when another day comes forth to meet us
We just have to face our own problems

I'm not looking for an answer this time
Because I do not know the right question yet
I just know that I have a problem with things
The things I can not ignore or forget.

-=-=-=-=-=-
There we go, just one swear word in the whole poem, hummm...am I losing my touch?
(: 

on going home

Dear Home,
You are not a city
You are not a town
You are not a country
You are not a noun

Dear Home,
You are a box full of memories
Locked by a secret key
Inside a room long forgotten
In a house long since locked

Dear Home,
You are a friend
With who I played long ago
Whose name I have forgotten now
But I hope he knows

Dear Home,
You are not six hours of ride away
You are somewhere close and I can hear
But I'm inching closer to you anyway
And I can hear you calling me loud and clear

Dear Home,
Tomorrow I will sleep in the bed my own
Eat food under my own roof
And like a stranger lost in time
I can not wait to be home

I can not wait to be home.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
I'm going home after almost 6 months. Yay me! Be back before you can miss me.

The Time

There comes a time in life
A time at the bottom of a bottomless void
Inside

That time when you are all alone
You have switched off you phone
And you are done watching all the porn
It could be late night or early morn

The sun is not up but you are
An train whistles somewhere far
Somehow you wish you were on that train
or under it.

You look up at the dirty gray sky
You have no courage left to even try
To make sense of your life, the people
or clean your room.

This is time when the bottles are empty
All your friends have passed out
The cigarretes are gone, so is the dope
But the only thing you are missing is hope

In the philosophical time of 5.30 AM
You wonder how many people are fucking
at this exact moment, and why aren't you
with that special someone

This is a dangerous time, my friend
When you start thinking about the end
But in truth, the Real Fucking of your soul
Has not even begun.

When it does, I hope you have fun.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
I have many student friends, and when they bitch about life, I feel like doing things to them which I would not like to say on this blog.

In a way, this poem is also a poke at how I was when I was a student. I'd have done things to me too, almost an year back. Time, eh!

The Chase

Maddened, we chase
Dreams and Deadlines
While
Life slips away
-=-=-=-=-
(:

I'm Bored

Bored of life
Bored of death
The violence only tickles
Sex is a myth

Bored of pain
Bored of pleasure
Bored of internet
Bored of prono treasure

Bored of the word fuck
Bored of my stupid luck
Bored of writing poems
Bored of getting comments

Bored of checking my mail
Bored of trying to fail
Bored of failing to fail
Bored of silly tales

Bored of vodka
Bored of whiskey
Bored of getting high
Bored of trying to die

Bored of all my friends
Bored of The Ends
Bored of the lonely nights
Bored of days so bright

Bored of typing like mad
Bored of being glad
Bored of being fucked up
Bored of being correct

Bored of being an inspiration
Bored of being looked up to
Bored of being some kind of fucked up role model
Bored of saying What the fuck to so many things

I'm bored. So bored.
And I wish I could bore you
With my poetry
Like you bore me.

Banana, Orange or Egg?

This planet to God
is like
a banana to a
monkey
more like an orange
or an egg
to be precise...

But monkeys don't like eggs
and perhaps
That
is the reason
why there is pain in the world
and
I'm allowed to write poetry.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
With free verse we just get worse.
Hey! Let's stop making sense for a while ok!

Suffer

Being pissed off if better
than being pissed on
Ok I know some of you freaks
like that kind of shit too
Not me.

Being calm is better
Than causing mindless harm
To property, people and animals
Some of you might do Yoga
Not me.

Being drunk is better
Than being stone cold sober
Throughout the day and the night
You will say I'm not right
Not me.

Being dead is better
Than being alive in this stupid world
At least you won't have to suffer
All the fucked up bullshit and
Stupid poetry
Written by me.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Don't look at me like this. I slipped on a psychedelic banana.

OVERDOSE

Fuck
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck

Fuck
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck

Fuck
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck

Fuck
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
I think I'm probably the only blogger who can pass the above crap as art.
Think, if you can hazard it, it does hold a meaning.

What the fuck was I thinking?

I ride the beast everyday
To a prison, but in my own way
The open road calls to me
My soul is trapped yet I am free

I stare at the skies through the bars
When it gets dark I name the stars
I'm awake even when the dogs bark
And old people walk in park

I made my choice and gave my word
The line between madness and sanity blurred
So now I live for something impossible
Dying without a bang would be so dull

And in between, I write some poetry
Trying to get feelings out of me
But the word is not true, it died
I'd only smile at the feedback you provide
-=-=-=-=-=-
Been a fucked up week, but what else the hell was I expecting.
More poems from now on, I repeat but let's try atleast.
Hey! and none of you reminded me
to do a poem on psychedelic bananas!!

The Love Of Hate

My brain has turned to slush
A muddy brown warm mush
I can not think like I used to do
The plane of my thoughts is hijacked by you

I can only look at your pictures and smile
To myself as I sit here alone
And I'm listening to sad hindi songs
1/4th the Dude that you used to know

I...I think I am falling in love
Love rhymes well with above, and dove
Dove is a bird and all birds fly
For you I'd kill, for you I'd die

I'd write poems in your praise
Haikus for your hair
Sonnets for you smile
And Love songs for the rest of you

But there are only 20 lines till your charm can hold me
I feel the old hate rise, the one which can mold me
From a man dying in love to a fucking god!
The wait just gives my mind gun time to reload

So I shut down your picture and write a new poem
Something hate, something vile something about monkeys
I suddenly realise that I'm way too cool for you
And for me you aren't 'nuff funky

'nuff said.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Coming live at you! Stay with us, we are going to blast this thing into space!

SLAM

SLAM

The day slams into the night
A girl slams her hand on a table
Nothing is all right.

A man slams the door of a house, once home
A lonely moon slams into the sky
The empty bottles are alone

The car slams out of the garage, fast
The tires slam the road like it won't last
The race of Speed and Death

The pedal slams into the metal
A tear slams into a pillow
One crash and two souls slammed to hell

-=-=-=-=-


A different approach to writing poems...of course it has been done before, different just for me :)
This is about drunken driving...in case its not clear, but ofcourse you can interpret in your own ways too...Life is a drive after all.

Cheers! Drive Safe.

P.S i'm having problems with my net connection so you might not see me on your blogs for a while, but soon, i'll be troubling you again:)

Pig Kissers

The wrong side of the bed was just all right
I was too drunk to know day from night
I stumbled  into the  dark party rooms
Cupboards full of couples, buckets and brooms

A weird light attracted my sight
With rainbow colors it burned so bright
From under a door it flickered and burned
The curiosity made my insides turn

So I stepped forth and pushed at the door
And what I saw I can't remember anymore
Except the fact that it was something big
And all those people were kissing a pig

Now I have grown frail and old
My bones can tell me hot or cold
The shards of that one night are in my head
I'll remember the pig kissers till I'm dead
-=-=-=-=-
I  have no fucking idea where this one came from. Forgive me  for  inflicting this torture on your eyes and  mind. Uhmm...support animal rights. Those people were NOT PETA. I don't want any lawsuits, I repeat, this poem has nothing to do with terroristic animal welfare organizations.

Peace.

N

God On The Road

Fucking mortals
On the roads
In shiny metal boxes
And human hoards

Do they not know
which way to go
Fuck off all of you
A god is coming through

He rides a bike made of black fire
The oil of lust, exhaust if desire
Clad in black leather like a god should
God or a demon? Depends on his mood

The humans they stare before they are trodden
They lie in his wake all dying and broken
The women, oh man, they cry out his name
But to him the mortals, they are all the same.
-=-=-=-=-
Laugh! fuckers!!

My Lazy Imagination

everyday i see
me
getting lazy
maybe i need
a lightening bolt up my ass
or new muse i could use

falling out of love
can sure take its toll
on all
that i do
or have done
and will do
but i still wait for life
to spring up something new
something strange and deranged
something wicked something fucked up
messed up beyond words
and then let me fight
through the night
to capture it in the snare
of my
imagination.

its a Sunday! Eat Prose Bitches!!

Now, when i said bitches above, i mean it in the most endearing,loving manner for my readers, specially for my google reader-s, we are all homies right?

I hope so, cuz if we are not then you are getting a hard and fast one right in the place where it hurts the most!

See! now you got me digressing with thoughts of senseless violence against perfectly normal human beings, though if you read this blog with the regularity that my statcounter tells me, by now any chances of you being normal are bye bye tata...

Statcounter! now that was what i wanted to talk about! yes, so today i just log in my account to snoop on my readers check the visits on my blog and what do I see! 63 visits in one day. I'm like WTF!!!, so I investigate a little bit and come to the conclusion that the guilty visitor sender is google reader's official blog!

Am I getting famous or what. All feel good so far? here comes the fubar part!

Now I try to be as particular about my spellings as I can same with the grammar and the punctuation, thought I'm pretty liberal with the !!! mark, but as things go, last night when I wrote the poem, "Reading Blogs At 2 AM" the blogger's devil stuck in his tiny little hoof in my notepad and made a mistake, changing the 'g' of the word with 'h', so effectively the link on google reader blog says

"Reading Blohs at 2 AM"

Humm...talk about slipping on a banana skin and your picture published in a paper next day.

oh and the losers who came from the google reader link, I got a lil message for you all.

"There is a thing called "comments" on this blog, you lazy ungrateful fuckers!"

ah and before i forget

N

[[Blogs of note, you are next!]]

Reading blogs at 2 AM

i got my vodka glass half full
and i'm reading blogs that are oh so dull
my google reader is full of new posts
but none to whom i can raise a toast

a man can only go through so many blogs in one night
after that the faith starts to shake
is there not words enough or fire in people
to make someone listen to what they have to say

but i move on down the reader's list
hoping there would be something shocking next
not some whiney poem or how the day went
because by now i know your love life and lunch hours
better than mine

i don't even have the energy left
to tell you to fuck off
your blog, so say what you like
this is mine, and i'll say what
i think is fine

Maybe when i'm sober in morning
I'll leave a comment with a "good work" or a "cheers"
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
not pointing at anyone in particular...offense meant to all

Kids, stock the ammunition!

Its that time of the year
When humans gloat without fear
In the filth and madness of this strange "thing"
its some 'day' on Feb 14, i hear them sing

Who will save them from the mess this time?
The cops and the barricades won't be enough
I could join the Shiv Sena, won't that be fun!
But heck if I do, who will use all my ammunition?

Roll in my favourite hate anthem
Time to grease the spokes of my tank
It's time to bring out the gun and bombs
Feb 14 we bring the kiddies home

This animal called valentine has infected them all
With the venom called love and in 'it' they will fall
Its weapons gas balloons and fake red roses
But we got the firepower we'll make up for our loses

On Feb 14 a tank will roll
That is, if the meat-house lets the man free.


-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
A bit early are we? well, never too early to start hating something:)

The Peace Day--Another spanner in the machinery of life

Monkey and Man
Together they sat
The man was thin
The monkey fat

Between them they shared
A smoking pipe
And psychedelic bananas
oh so ripe!

It was the Peace Day my friends
When this strange scene I saw
Tankman smoking up with the Monkeys!
From the jungle floor I had to scrape my jaw

A disconcerting sight, I must say
I wonder if the Tankman has turned gay
Why then this simian bonhomie
Calling each other 'Mon Ami'!

From dawn till dusk they smoked and ate
As I observed and recorded this strange fate
The hunted friendly with the hunter
An sense of shock and simian wonder

Just the the sun the moon did rise
And it came to me as no surprise
As the man and monkey parted ways
All players in a wicked stage's play
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Some Shaxbardian shit and something about psychedelic bananas...which deserve a poem of their own!

What shall we take on next?
Feb 14 is around the corner... he he he

The Poet and The Storyteller

i was waiting for the truth
to come and set me free
cliched and tied in my misery
i almost blamed it on destiny

but as changes go, a change did come
i was introduced to lies, and then some
its a much better place, this life in fiction
anything in reality is not this much fun

so i sit and type lies in my room
to all my friends and well, other friends
they all ooh and aah at my ingenuity
when i really don't know the meaning of that word

but the solace is there is writing poetry
as close to truth as i dare be
a poet and a storyteller trapped in one existence
the choice always, to tell the truth or lie?
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Its my personal belief, i might be wrong though, that poems are as close to truth as anything can be, i'd go as far as saying that poetry transcends truth, (figure that out!)
where as storytelling, well, is all about lying :) and whenever a story or poetry happen its a writer who ceases to exist, its only his words, his art.

for those who are thinking i have gone sane, well, fuck off, tomorrow a new poem about Monkeys, Tankman and psychedelic bananas :)

Sucking on Poetry

I woke up this morning and I thought 'What the fuck!'
Got a word from Noah the Great who owns Poetry That Sucks
What the fuck is that about you say, another new poem site?
Well, the first that admits to sucking, so I guess its all right.

Now you know it as well as me that we people are no Donne
We don't write to pick up chicks, we write just for fun
And most of the time our poems, well they completely suck!
That's the reason we can't get laid and not get a fuck!

The sexual frustration leads to even more poetry!
Can poison cancel poison or I be more handsome than me?
So its better to confess and now let me no more digress
Truth is that all poetry sucks, but just write on, don't give a fuck

So go to that link now and become a member
Let's revel in sucky poetry from February to December
There we can make fun of each other and just be proud
Poetry sucks more than life, frankly, that is allowed.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Right, for the verse blind, www.poetrythatsucks.com is a venture by Noah The Great, this one built a website instead of building a ship. So all poets aboard, this is something wicked and cool.

Join Today>> www.poetrythatsucks.com

The Thinker's Poem

Sometimes I think
that I should not think
and everyone else in the world
should stop thinking too

Ayway after lot of thinking I figured out
the reasons for all troubles of humanity
the final answer to life
and why death can not die
plus other things like
why pigs don't fly
girls go to loo in pairs
I figured it out finally!
Go Me!!!

and I know by now I have got you thinking
that in next three lines I'm going to tell it to you
But I know that you know me too better for your own good
Everyone has to find their own answers, like they should :)

Many times saying cheeky things like this
help me
get out of sticky situations.

ITS RAINING AWARDS!!!!

Alllllright!!! what? you wanna nominate me for Prez of India? Really? WTF are you people smoking?!!

You wanna get third world war started or something? Lord knows I'd nuke half the world to hell if I get the power :)

Anyway, it has come to my notice that some bloggers have been indulging in the practice of tagging and giving awards to each other, now as much as I hate any kind of labeling, YOU people are the reason why this blog exists. Yes, some of the shit on your blogs disgusts and excites me so much at the same time that I can not stop the poetry from flowing out.

But rest assured, I'm more full of shit than anyone of you can ever imagine to be :) now lemme not detain you all and show some love for the two lovely ladies, the ever charming Kat a.k.a Poetikat who has given me

The Roar for Powerful Words award
[Three things that writing is to me
Passion
Obsession
Catharsis
I was supposed to tell these three]

and
the charismatic Vitruvian who has given me Writing Addict Award.

Here they are, feast yer eyes!

And now, generally we pass the same award to everyone, get a link and off we go. I'm not giving any of you these awards, I got them! but because I am so magnanimous and nice person inside I'm making ya a special award, its called....


THE AWARD! YOU R FKN 'A' AWARD!

This is for all readers who have the balls to upload this on their blogs! Because I love you all!! And if you DO choose to display this award, lemme know ;)

The misanthropy and disgust for all things living and non living shall resume from tomorrow.

Cheers!!

N

Yum Yum Eat Em Up

I have a problem
Wait!
I have many problems.
with the world
with the people
with the government
and the birds
and the cows
and the sewers of the world
and the minds of philosophers
and the theories of economists
and the promises of lovers
and the poems at this blog
and the words of this poet [ha!]
that would be me
Nothingman
also a song by Pearl Jam

But let me not deviate
from the things I hate
The common thread through all of it
Everything is so full of shit

Now read it again.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
time is short and the words are many, just for the sake of telling, the new job is keeping me busy and i'm trying to arrange my schedule so as to get back to blogging properly.
hope all of you are well.apologies to those who were expecting replies to comments, when life lets me loose a bit, i shall respond, till then, read on :)

Ask someone who gives a shit.

 

 

Your pain, oh your pain

Your broken heart and more pain

Your tears, your fears, your fucked up life

If you want to get laid man, get a wife.

 

You bitch and crib how hard life is

When you've been living it all soft

Getting drunk on borrowed money

Driving through life already lost

 

Put a bullet in your head for fuck's sake

Drive fast for a wall and don't hit the break

You are a waste of my precious clean oxygen

You are boring and duller than everyone

 

So get your fucking face out of my sight

I might be wrong but you are not right

I will not tolerate your presence anymore

Someone send this clown back to his shore

-=-=-=-=-=-

random anger at 4.27 am...have been ordered to sleep, so have to...gah.

Little Something

the little something called love
it holds the straining breaths together
it glues the rotting flesh
it holds life when it rains death

the angel of hope
the little something called love.

 

the other little something is hate
keeps the money rolling
keeps the blood boiling
that is also hope, just another colour

the red of madness and anger

the ghost of betrayal and lust

 

who do we trust?

-=-=-=-=-=-

0238 hours, just spitting out the frustrations :)

Words Late At Night--1

All the idiots have laid down their weapons
Slowly the music has faded to silence
Its only 1.10 am, and the night has died
The end of all good things has finally arrived

The clock is ticking and tocking in my room
No one else is talking to me these days anyway
I have kept my mouth shut for one year now
And I still do not want to speak, wow!

I wonder is someone can get addicted to pain?
The solid comfort of losing, the pleasure of defeat
A warm soft bed of death to sleep in the end
When there is nothing left in this world to defend.

Somedays my words do not make sense
So I just write everything without pretense
There is nothing I can do to stop this rush, but write
I might not get any sleep again tonight.

Some nights I hear the trucks rush through this city
They pass on the deserted roads through out the night
I wonder about the lives of the men who drive these monsters
Do they give a fuck about now or infinity?
-=-=-=-=-
The night is still young ladies and gentlemen, only 0158 hours now

The Fuck Off Feelings

I got some feelings in my head
These are not the feelings in my heart
Or anywhere else for that matter

These feelings are cold calculating numbers
Adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing
Feelings as scary as a maths exam

I dare not tell these feelings to anyone
If I do these feelings will not let me live
They grow claws and nails sometimes. Scary, no?

I fall prey to my Fuck Off Feelings when,
Every truth is the lie that I haven't heard
Every heart I see is cracked like an ass

The hole is in everyone
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The last two lines are the crown of this poem :)
We'll be back with more !

The Edge of Death and Sleep

tired,awake, alone i lie in this cold bed trying to sleep
slowly warmed by my breaths,i'm writing a poem on the edge of sleep and death.
and as i type on the keypad of my cellphone two things come to my mind.
will this poem make it to poetry?
and
have i fucked up the formatting?
.......
never wrote a poem on my cell.anyway,lot of poems on saturday.so keep
your weekend free!;)

The Finger of God

God's finger pointed at me and pointed me to the blog of super stylish Minx who blogged about, well, blogging.

Now this is not poetry but it is damn well related to the higher purpose of each and every blog on blogsphere, to write, about Monkeys. So feast your eyes upon this image and savor in the sensory delight that will make strawberry jam of your brain and make it flow out of your nose making your mouth all sticky and sweet. Without further due, I give to you.... Monkeys!



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4 AM

its 4 AM
again
why am i awake?
why can i not sleep?

the world outside is waking up, slow
who are all these children of the morning?
walking slow and shuffling through the semi darkness
bending maybe they all have dropped something
like youth
there is a man in the Masjid
who has started his prayer
i do not understand a word of what he's singing
but i like the tone of his voice
a passion,
lost from lives that we live.

i'm sitting here in my bed
awake at 4 AM
have i really woken up to life?
or am i still sleeping?
so many questions
but
why
am i looking
for
answers?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-
This is what happens when you wake up at 4 in the morning.
oh and P.S i had to reconfigure the feed of the blog, because of someone who did a mischief on me. I just hope you all can spare one click to come and read the poems.
p.p.s Kris, don't kick my ass over this, i know your new phone can follow links!
--

Imagi-Nation

The bastards took the paper
The bastards took the pens
The bastards broke my fingers
But they can not stop me from speaking

The bastards took my hands
The bastards took my eyes
The bastards took my freedom
But they can't take away voice

The bastards took tongue
The bastards took my face
The bastards took  my thoughts too
But they can not stop me from thinking

Now they will take away my life
They will  tear my last breaths from me
But even in this situation
They can not take my imagination
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The Punjabi poet Pash smuggled his poems out of jail written on cigarette wrappers, he created a revolution with his words. I'm not trying to create a revolution, not yet :)

I see ugly people

Ugly people surround me
Their fingers pointing at me like barbs
I have not eaten breakfast for a week
I'm missing my carbs

Why do these ugly people carry spoons?
Their vacant eyes filled with doom
And here is me feeling so fucking hungry
A hunger for everything deep in my soul

But these ugly people fuck up my revolutions
They throw their spoons in my solutions
I tell them to fuck off but do they listen?
No sir! No sir! They need an ass kickin!

This time I'm taking their spoons away
I'll beat them with spoons from jan to may
I won't have them stand with their pointed digits
I'll make them return to their pile of shit
-=-=-=-=-=-
OK i'm rambling, don't expect much from a man who has not slept in 2 days.

and that is only  the start of it.

Gwad.

What is this?!

Ladies and Gentlemen, please point your browsers at THIS link.

We shit you not, this will blow your mind away and make you believe for once and for all, that the poems on this blog are, but a Prophecy for a future that is looking at us with jaws wide open, wings flapping and a sharkfin on its back!

Beware Humans!! The Revolution is Coming!!



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