Fools Stop

ReWind

combing the streets
tilling a barren land to sow a soul
hands numb from carrying on for too long
cowering under the heat of arrogance
with the burden of iron laden ironies
blowing to bits all that came near
and fogging eyes with mistrusting dust
till till you rust

a few crumbs of confidence
in the darker corners of the torn pocket
slipping through like grains of sand
as the incense of futility musks its way
through the crux that is man
with all its brutality tries to hold on
a dead hard pressed hand

churned and burned in the factory of the world
screaming in silence till the voices died
condemned to meditate in the dark
with tremors of peace and disturbance in the void

like a stone rolled out of his park
for stumbling on a heresy
now splinters of myself pricked to myself
sharp edges that reflect a life
sworn to shape as a mistake
a prisoner walking down the corridor
swinging to the extremes - steps inviting
to the gallows or to drown
a life of sorrow or a life of a clown

in love with agony
with currents of eccentricity
running down the spine
and chilling the bones
marks of coarse consumption
on the high winding road
of stretches of assumptions
leaving a trail behind
of bitter burnt truths
a drug that delivered
on its promise to
leave behind a trail
of wasted youth

Magic of India

gyan chode re tu sadhu
tu hai bada
ki hai bada woh katlu
buddha ka khada na hua
toh lapet diya duniya pe jaadu
lama-o ki line lagaakar
ab lungi mein chipe baithe
hai sab ke sab jhatu

keechad ke pujari
tera ram allah issahi
lund pav koi ek toh
doosra koi bhikari
apne guru ke dwaare baith
jeb chakku rakh
kare tu punya ki kamai

lagale
mathe pe apne hi bhai ko neecha
dikhane wala tikka
yah safed topi pehen kar
apni pak kaali chadar mein
apni ma aur behen ke
saath sone wala lipta
banja koi katwa lavda
nahin toh chaat le koi gori chamdi
jinke jahaan mein hawe se
nikla tha ek harami
ek rand se uska naam tha mary
nikali jisne khud ki krishnaneety
hoja aadha aadha
second hand chakka
na idhar ka na udhar ka
choice hai teri joh tu chahe
lekin mooh karna bas apna meetha
mere sade hue pet me paka
aur teri liye nikla mera
freshly baked excreta

Smell like a Smirk

every word that comes to you
with the force of an advice
and sounds that sound
only trying to give a wound

gun shots of every kind
bury your head
in the ground
cover those eyes
and make a run

cant handle the guns
cant handle the light
from the sun
cant talk straight
without getting burned

as orphaned sons of the
crumbling towers of
self confidence
piece together
bits and pieces of existence

walk under the cover
of the night
forking out shadows
and put them up before
yourself as you
give yourself a fight

like a peddler
peddling those lines
as a busker waits for the
sunny day
hoping for someone to
drop some coins

drunk on words
thrusting but nowhere to go
peaking and troughing
through the changing moods

hiding behind the face
that has learnt to smile
as it broods
using as an aid the
smirk that came dangerously close
coming too close as a saving grace
tipping over and sitting
where once used to sit that face

Eclipse

With every insecure
breath paradoxing
to survive
fallen off their
cliffs of permanence
and staring into how
low goes the zero
standing ashore on
the great golden
plains of confusion
drifted away from
faces of ugly innocence
with high strung
notes of silence
washed by waves
crashing as tears
of the
bent and brittle
kingdom of disillusion
sinking in their
muddled creamed with
slime sand and spraying
shallow seweric waters
of their soul
with hands upward bound
blessing the slug
and the drudge of their
heavens
pray to
the leeches sucking
a life fungus laden
for the final ecliptical
wave of remorse
to arrive
and take them out
as a drunk boat
on a sea so sullen

Rape Anthem

Perfumed in loath
suppressed repressed
regressed and badly dressed
with foul smelling breath
scavenging on the
outskirts of society
and pushed further
into the suburbs then
into the slums
stoned into silence
but watching as the
bastard children of
borrowed morality charge
into the barrage of water guns
and drown in their crying
sea of slogans
come out these
new age heroes
from underground trenches
of vileness and vulgarity
carrying the old badge
of a drunk mind between
sharp angled brows
raise their arms to honor
their lost brethren
who gave themselves up
to winning battles of
a lost cause
come out with a
silent war cry and a
critical mass of explosive cowardice
slitting some sluts
and ramming their pipes
in unwelcoming tightly
latched mouthful doors
the rapers chasing
down their cheerleaders
as practitioners of art
without any connoisseurs
playing hard
in a fittingly dressed
limped style
climax with violence
finishing off their
whorer show
and give themselves
a murderous ovation
and as dawn finally
casts its shadow
through streaks of light
burning their eyes
the night rests
on its laurels
of its own history
having snatched a
performance of a lifetime
with background noises and
applause's crying
encore encore

Swaggin'

Brokers of the night
peddling away their sins
brokering their way in
as tokens forsaken

enter the jazzling discotheques
as patrons of angry bars
where the music plays
only as bungling noise
impeccably dressed in jarring crass

in the sludge of
innocent laughter
as sex drools all over
around watering pussy holes
like thirsty cocks they wander

waiting on the waitresses
drenched in spirits
sweeter than wine
wrapped in a prayer
serving cocktails of wrath

stirring with fury
in their positions
of creaming glory
sluts and whores
of love and loathe
orchestrate a
mouthful moan

giving eternal
fatal blows
butchering the butter
out of the punctured
scrotum souls
before fading away
in lustless smoke

Cold Platter of Damnation

Oiled in a sense of righteousness
garnished with chilly reservations
peppered accusations
garlic gingered sarcasam
fried and dried
in the name of shame
tossed and mixed
boiling stale assortment of value systems
squeezed dry lemons
pinched with passive aggresion
eyes simmering with salty suspicion
on the cold platter of damnation
serving hard,cold and crisp - rejection

A Dry Whore

As the breeze
passes over me
I try to drown in the
pearls of breasted laughter
a whiff of the
gusts of golden dust
rises up through
the silk winds of
her melancholic mirth

and at her best moment
i get caught at my worst

naked desire mocking
luring me into her touch
glowing flares try to mould a
drunk molten love
a bent and brittle soul
droused with fire in his thirst
in coarse black purity
gets ready to be
eternised as rust

walked past and beyond
the sweat of wanderlust
and within the cold sullen calm
of her embracing
icy glass door
junked with a lepers lust
with a breath as heavy
as a long lost voyage
sink into the night
as a lover
kissing lips forlorn of love
and sinking my teeth deep
into the dry drained whore

Bloody December

At the edge
of the garden of eden
standing there as a
torn and leaking garbage can
choked with smoke
muffled voices in the head
and the cigarette dancing
trembling in the hand

slipping into circles of fire
till they become bare and wither
unweaving threads of every
ragged dream and desire
in memory of the love
written to end as murder
in the coolness of that
cold winter of december

for the journey that started
in the womb of her mother's
and ended straight into
the hell of the gutters
the warmth of the
spilled blood
and its promise
to drown every living memory
in its red bloodied river

Moist Love

You are warming those toes
at the edge of the bonfire
and the cold night weeps silently
weeping to its own woes
knowing not if you are
cursed to be moist
or to be loved as a
windless desert cries
parched between the legs
high but drained dry

but you take a casual stretch
and a hungry beast sitting beside
falls off the edge
streaks of blue light
touching raw nerves
and each passing moment
with burning guts
raising the desire for your love
and comes just at the most
inopportune time
one mistaken touch
and everything goes blur
a story that was to
have a beginning
and a happy end
but now just a coarse
drunken voice
all spilled over and slurred

Loner Stoner

As the raging river
slowly subsides
walk through crystal walls
mountain rocks round hollow
all withering to salt
with its changing colors
the river turns to reptile
and with a promise as
pure as a dark moonless night
with shining teeth and gleaming eyes
promises only to swallow
and not to bite

flowing in the footprints
on the dead beaten tracks
blinded by neon signposts
inviting you to your grave
walking with a sway
and convinced that walking straight
the loner stoner follows the way
follows like a
dog follows a cliche

follows

as a ugly frog waits
to be kissed
by the princess of death

follows

as the lizard waits
for the end of days
to dig into human flesh

follows

as a blessed black butterfly
with the heart of
red burning kali inside
takes wings and starts to fly

follows follows

as a blessed black butterfly
with the heart of
red burning kali inside
takes wings and starts to fly

to drop dead on the love
secreting a wish
for it as it dies
to be raped a hundred times

follows

Moonbow Night

Betting against all the horses
in natures park
forcing against the forces
the devil gives a silent applause

beyond the horizon
gates of the calm sea left broken
clouds part ways with the sky
and a giant hole tears itself open

a single stroke of light
blinds the full moon shining bright
with lowered eyes
the moon bows to the night

dance of the devil starts
and illuminates the path
a hollowed soul cheers to itself
starts catching falling knives

blood as thin as
cold blue ice
comes flowing down
as golden words of the vice

cup of soul starts to fill
consuming itself with the will
to last for seven lives
living each on the dark side

Baba is a Black Sheep

Revulsed in their body
repulsed in their soul
with overgrown hair
and overflowing beard
away from their crowd
away from their herd
the black sheep are
at it again
scraping away their skin
spreading far and wide
spreading themselves thin
to become lean and mean
all in their futile
attempts to become clean
but the blackness has seeped
too deep within
as the secret
with only
too much regret
unveils itself
out of the dark well
they bury their heads
in the sands of time
and roll away
never again to
fall back in line
and find that
their only way
to atone for
the great sins
is by paying the price
through even
greater acts of cowardice

Deep Pressed

The stars mark
their target
as the armies
mark their planet
but generals
before you win or lose
your war
spare some bullets
for the ones
who are kind enough
to need it the most

become the pied piper
and lead forward by
playing the real tune
when the bells ring
at the wrong hour
of misfortune

spare some bullets
for those
who are kind enough
to need it the most

deep pressed
with their
black charred souls
grinding down low
and slashing some throats or
letting lose the rope
to hang themselves
by the threads
of the same joke

climbing high
breaking all the
loose strands
of the stress
wounds try to redress
but torn up afresh
tuning up further on
their degrees of distress

spare a few bullets
for the ragged
endless battles
lost and won
and lost again
over and over again
because they cant
get out of their
own heads

Midnight Snacks

Lonesome waterdrops
dropping dead in the
middle of the night
thuds that show to
eyes that gleam
when you can't blink
sleep is just another
futile dream

silence cracks at midnight
from the pressure put forth
on the creaking door
a freaks footsteps follow
onto the floor

in the chaos
of all the sounds
hear the pin screaming
as it is falling
to the ground

the fever starts rising
the sirens they
start blazing
in the ambulance
the doctor
the patient
the medicine
they combine
the disease groping
for a new meaning

under the starry nights the
forked out shadows
left their bodies
and now lurk in
corners of the mind

waiting their turn
they know now
its their time
start to take their slow walk
reaching their final point
end point of
white blinding light
as the great
big sound screeches to a halt
plunge forward all together
in the dark

the pop-eyed eyes
huddled in the corner
holding onto the horror
as it unfolds
they are left
begging for more

Ismile

Bare your bones
to touch your soul
for a soul
sold to the world
strip away the
threads of every
piece of cloth
and stand as
tries to stand
a begging bowl

every thought
turned into knots
every ought
turned into a ought not
pure as a white
holy ghost
knock on those doors
for a smile to
cut loose from
someone's tight lipped purse
for a love that loves
but loves only as a curse

Empty Words

She was a bird
that I could only capture
through the cages I made
of empty words

sculpted those wings
so they could fly
to become the one
who would be said goodbye

set free into the world
took her flight of fancy
gave her the right of way
got myself wronged in every way

burning like wild fire
the bird flew away
the one holding the weightless cage
living in those yesterdays
not for the better
all for the worse
marked to be lost in
those listless herds
and buried under the weight
of his own empty words

Strike Out

Was the day
when my lips
got first diseased
was the day
should have known
the tables they
started to turn

was waiting with
my eyes closed and
arms open wide
waiting like the
nine pins wait
to be rolled
into the ground
each one praying
to be the
last one to go down

was the day
but I let
my eyes close
struck down once
allowed myself to
die for you once

days turned
days churned
from the summer
mosquito bites
to the cold
winter nights

were the days
and they were
waiting their time
but I looked away
got myself
struck down twice
was once bitten
but not twice shy

days turned
days churned
from the summer
mosquito bites
to the cold
winter nights

was the day
it finally arrived
with you laid out wide
every day of mine
turned into a dark night
finally struck down thrice
erased and out wiped

struck down once
struck down twice
struck down thrice
stopped counting
but you
didnt stop striking

have been times
many many more
in one lifetime though
how many times
can the same man
again and again die

have been times
many many more
in one lifetime though
how many times
can the same man
again and again die

Cast 2 Die

Gamblers of the street
gambling with others lives
but you took on the game
to gamble with your own life

tripped so hard
and fell behind
didnt notice you went
a point down in the game

picking up pieces now
of whats left behind
and signing a contract back
for a new lease of life

coming into the light
seeing things with
a different eye
and bid your war against time

changing the rules of your own game
stopping the lonely walk through your deeds
and like the gamblers of the street
wait always for the bigger games to come by
while sharpening your moves on the weak

and by the time all their doubts
about your self worth come true
you would have drowned the ones
who tried to saved you

for whatever was worth
became less for you
play the dirty game
starting with
rolling the dice for two