Delhi

One of my favourite poems is 'Slough' by John Betjeman. And I really don't mind the controversy that surrounds the poem. I suggest you read that before reading this one as this is a homage to Betjeman's original. I based this one on Delhi. Delhi is no longer the city I was born and grew up in (for a while). 

Come friendly bombs and drop on Delhi,

For it feels more like a beast’s belly,

With clogged streets and drains smelly.

Chaos reigns!

Come, bombs and blow the caucuses

Or those air-conditioned government offices,

Filed papers, Filed lies, Filed confidence,

Filed tears, Filed pains.

Drop and clean the mess they call a city-

A room for 20 large, still itty-bitty

And extra for electricity

For a month at least.

And get that man in white clothes

Who kings and sins and grabs the throats,

Whose skin is drenched in people’s loathe

The blood’s his feast

And burn his hat that once showed truth

And smash and burn his office booth

And stop his ways raw and uncouth

And make him cry.

But spare the young ones on the street

Through those only jobs they make ends meet,

It’s not their fault the city brings them defeat,

They’d rather die.

It’s not their fault they don’t know right

Their justice lost in the dark of night

It’s no surprise that they just might

Sigh and give in.

Have drugs and booze they might just

Talk instead of their animal lust,

Won’t try to win the love and trust

And now they sin.

Their mothers warm polluted breads

And serve them water that they dread,

And fruits too are chemical red

Their poisoned toasts.

Come, friendly bombs and drop on Delhi

For all they show is hate on their telly

And politicians think they’re Machiavelli,
The city’s a ghost.

Death/Love

I read somewhere that a poem cannot be about more than one thing and that it must have just a single central theme. Daft idea. That challenge was accepted and I wrote this, which can be read for both 'Death' and 'Love':

Sometimes I wear a cloak of satin and velvet

Sometimes I maybe naked, with a bow and arrow

But sometimes I wear a cloak darker than the night

I am known to this little child, yet I am to him the biggest mystery

To this old man here, I have brought pain and joy throughout his history

I am celebrated; as celebrated as anything could be

And yet at nights I cry, I weep

For as celebrated as I may be, I get blamed

I get blamed for when two young souls see trust in each other’s eyes

When the clouds get dark and one of them dies

For all the times when there’s betrayal 

It’s me who gets soaked in their tears, when they cry

It’s me who takes the blame, it is I

And so I weep

For I'm feared

Feared more than war is

Forbidden, I'm a young man’s worst nightmares

And a maiden’s curse

One healing hand and other full of daggers

I cut infinite names of my victims on stone walls of sorrow

While the other hand paints beautiful faces I borrow

 For as long as there is the wind, for as long runs time

I run through; crazed; silent, as speechless as a mime

Touching thousands I come across, more subjects to my crime

Running, sweating, shouting and screaming

The horrific sights of smiling faces; gleaming

Black birds follow, and I know what horrors for their future they’re scheming

I'm out of breath for everything’s real, I'm not dreaming

But then I stop

Time is up

And I stop

I can’t go on

Maybe I should just stop, end this

I can’t take it any more; and I know a thousand more that can’t

A thousand more victims that rage and rant

But I wish I could stop, But I can’t

For as long as there is the wind, for as long runs time

Because I know that someone right now is walking out the door and across the street

Because I know that someone is unaware of what fate on the next turn one might meet

And so I’ll move

I’ll keep on moving

Sometimes I wear a cloak of satin and velvet

Sometimes I maybe naked, with a bow and arrow

But tonight goes to all those who despise me; 

Tonight I wear a cloak of white

Also available on my collaboration blog 

The Ballad of an Asshole

I haven't posted anything lately mainly because I was too lazy to type what I'd scribbled. I did try to type some stuff but gave up succumbing to laziness (for the lack of a better word). You know what they say, 'Procrastination is the mother of all joblessness' (No they don't). Anyway it was today when I came up with a great start when I thought of something that blew my own mind : Assholes have hearts too! I tried to relate it to the actual body part and a person labelled as an 'asshole'. It was something really random and in the end I wasn't able to make the relation I was looking for but ended up with a really retarded rhyme that doesn't make sense: 

Assholes have hearts too
Their hearts are like the perineum muscle
Cause assholes might be assholes
Their predicaments are like colonic hustle

They might seem gross and hairy
Still they do have gentle hearts
But when situations get really scary
They can muster deadly farts

An asshole might be an outcast
But they still have a lot of grit
On your favorite list they might be last
But they still hold up after all the shit

I really need to find better subjects for poetry -_-

Holiday Prick

I wrote this beat poem for the holidays. A little too late because Christmas is gone, for which I've been cursing myself for. Wanted to do something similar to Tim Minchin's Mitsubishi Colt and Storm, so you can see the effect. Its about this whole dilemma on what's the right way to wish a person on holidays. Without the music its really a poem(BTW Happy Holidays to you!):

It’s a cold windy noon

I'm strutting about, an unscheduled

Adventitous, unintentional walk

Through the market, minding my own business

Trying my best not to open my mouth or talk

Did I mention, its holiday season?

The shops are filled with glee and celebration

Maybe that’s why I'm outside in the streets

Instead of sitting at home, engaging in masturba…uh, ahem

 Umm, think I should buy some holiday decorations

As I walk down the market road with my purchases

I dodge unknown, unrecognisable faces and gazes

Till I see a person familiar

And as her eyes twinkle and her eyebrows she raises,

And recognizes me instantaneously and freezes

And starts walking towards me!

And just like that my socially awkward conscience comes into play

“Alright, relax and think about what your gonna say,

Think of something cool and smooth that doesn’t make you sound too gay,

 Not too douchey , arrogant or ‘playa out to play’ “

She’s right in front of me now, she’s not gonna sway

And I open my mouth, ‘don’t screw this up please!’ I pray

“A very Happy Holiday to you, how have you been?”

I blurt, “It’s been a long time, a long time indeed that I have seen

Your pretty eyes and long brown hair,

Haha just messing, there’s hardly anything to care…

…about. So what’s new? What’s cooking?

I should also add that dress of yours is fab-looking

I see, your following the newest fashion trend,

By the what brings you here?” ,She says, “Waiting for my boyfriend.”

Ok, this clearly was a waste of my time,

It was like a rap track without any rhyme,

But now I can’t be rude, can I ?

And so, I with lips shut like those of a mime,

And continuing without committing an ethical crime

I listen to her ‘now-a-little-less-interesting’ words

“Nothing really, bought a Christmas cake,

Too lazy these days to actually bake,

By the way,

You said ‘Happy Holiday’

But it’s actually Christmas Eve today,

I don’t get why is it that people use this term,

As if to say,

‘I care more about being politically correct and appearing grey’

Why not just name the damn holiday,

Instead of keeping a distance and skipping away

From the main reason of celebration, in this case:

‘Jesus Christ’s Birthday’?

I control my strong urge to facepalm,

Her words kill my happy greetings like napalm,

But I admit she does have a point,

And hasn’t just rolled a ‘read-that-on-Twitter’ joint

And so for a moment I do think,

And begin to speak hoping my ‘SS Impression’ doesn’t sink.

“Well, you do have a point there now I that I think about it,

But what about the people of other faiths that don’t fit

In this particular occasion or celebration

Wouldn’t wanna have their ears bit

And so I use this term,

Though I’m not a believer, I’m not a pesky worm

So I wanna treat all believers equally and fair

And don’t wanna appear like a total fucking square"

Well, she looks pissed now and she says,

“I don’t care about that sort of stuff,

I just think it’s a little too rough

Out there

And nobody really to cares,

What a person of some random faith has to think,

If people have one belief, they should also respect the other

But people don’t care a dime, they don’t bother

So screw this idea of being equal and fair,

And a word of advice to you: ‘Grow a pair’ “

Holding back another urge to facepalm,

I spit my temper and keep my calm,

Although she speaks ironic bullshit

Like screwing for virginity, or being sober by taking a hit

So I adjust my imaginary tie,

Look her in the eye,

Feeling not a least bit shy,

I say, “Well, if you think people really are always insensitive,

I suggest you quit your ‘Ideological laxative’

And concentrate on the facts of reality which,

Don’t really get affected by the fact that you’re a total bitch,

That you’re fundamentalist, one-track mind deserves to be in a ditch

That you have no idea what you say and what you think,

Your brain maybe the answer to the ‘missing link’

And that people do care, if they don’t, at least I do

And not appreciating diversity is totally stupid doo-doo

You yourself don’t really give a shit,

And expect others to, by saying that

‘So screw this idea of being equal and fair’?

Why the hell do you think I would wear,

A stupid Santa hat?

Cause I believe in a gift showering guy in red who is fat?

Is it because ‘Holiday season’ is really happy?

 Or because being an atheist is sometimes just boring and really crappy?

And since it’s a nice day and a even better occasion,

And I’m feeling really good,

I’ll step back and let you be the judge of that”
I say under my ‘politeness’ hood

And because I was rather fast for her, I was incomprehensible,

And because there are no conclusions, none of us really seem sensible,

Just then her boyfriend does come and says, “Happy holidays, dude”

And all she had to say was, “Awww, Isn't he cute?”
-_-