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.