Thursday, March 15, 2012

The Naga Sadhu And The Dam Madar Malang From Mumbai

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Man Lives All His Life Behind a Smoke Screen..Seen Unseen

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Little Masseur Boys

These ar little kids who are from distant states far away from home , runaways, they come to Mumbai during Urus time , older guys like their soft massaging hands.Most of these guys give full body massage to the doped out horny guys on the Mahim beach..

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The Greatest Curse on the Soul of Silence The Tongue ..

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Stop Crying Over Spilt Milk ..Anonymous Asshole

Sometimes it’s wiser to be an asshole
By and by it will sink in
To reach your destination
much before you begin
A journey of a torturous spin
Some you lose some you win
Three line poems unwashed repressive
In a recycle bin..
The rest hanging to dry on an
Imaginary foreskin
Cybernetic love on a swivel pin
stop crying over spilt milk
a dead indian in a sheeps skin
seminal solitude hererin
Lighting a path
Darkness within
Man born to Fuck women
Yogic Kundalini
Uncoiling the serpent
That you call the original sin
Playing it by ear..
Tender notes on an old violin
To her bruised ego and chagrin
Hit hard on the rebound
You take it bravely on the chin

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The Requiem of Pain

“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.”

Mother Theresa

“Love means exposing yourself to the pain of being hurt, deeply hurt by someone you trust.”

“I understand with love comes pain, but why did I have to love so much?”

“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”

Lance Armstrong


So many memories
on the battlefield
of her young life
Poetic nostalgia
Killed maimed and slain
At her feet paying tribute
To this young Queen of Pain
Brainless hearts
Heartless brains
All seeking her patronage
She freedom seeking
In a cybernetic gilded cage
Nappy wearing Cupid
Arrow headed also her page
The fool the wise also the sage
Her wisdom seek and engage
Poem hunter poems
Poets seeking center stage
But pain of not falling in love
Only the loveless can assuage
Borrowed internet time
Brooding over a
cerebral cleavage
bye bye ass hole she says
causing a poetic
bloodless hemorrhage

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Have Soul Will Travel-Appu

no hands
no legs
flies sting and go
mosquitoes bite him so
ants bother him more
goats push him
wieght throw
trouble him hardcore
someone to wipe his ass
someone to help him piddle
someone to bathe him
someone to comb his hair
he would live love and die for
no life is not what it was before
a tragedy that limbless in akimbo
took away his crabs pincers
that he cant cry out for
a manhood as decor
he makes love to the floor
he cannot unbolt the door
no not yet he has not
slept with a whore
have soul will travel
no feet no shoes no shoe store
he has no one but his god
and himself to speak for
he begs with dignity
at chor bazar
at st micheals church
a fate he holds still for
enough is enough he tells me
this worldly life no not anymore .

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