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Harini Iyengar
Mumbai    Trapped in the chains of routine. Working. Studying. Longing to be a free bird. Will happen. Soon.
harini
F/hell    gay.

Poems

Plethora of talents plunged in
yet  HUMILITY personified...

Timer,  a need to punch her timely counters
On wits, she hears…  HUMOUR  is an armour !!

Acted as “Indra” in school play , but she’s “Karna’ in disguise  
Plea for a flower , surprise  awaits , With garden of flowers
GENEROSITY is not a mere play !!

Stormy restless minds, Feels at ease and peace
With an ear to her words , A testimony from me, too
She's a SOOTHER by nature !!

Drawing painting singing Instrumental and vocal
All safe in her hands... No doubt she's a Nightingale's  
MULTI SKILLED sister!!

Thick or thin , bestie or not  , Enjoy absolute care and support
Yet. she calls a *****,  a *****… No matter who is who..
FEARLESS in voicing truth !

Chartered accountant in very first strike, a rarity in records
A glowing crown on charming queen
She’s BEAUTY WITH BRAINS!!

A part and parcel of  NCC uniform that marched  Rajpath R-Day parade
Monumental and enviable moment , Yet , devoid of any  enemies
She is sincerely BELOVED!!

Few words of what she is …… And who she is ....
As no hymns she sings on her , yet  misses no chance to praise others
A MOTIVATOR quite always !!

A BOLD GIRL... class lady with elegance and integrity
Standing firm on her views.. … Can bear no other name...
Than ……….HARINI …..!!

( From flash back memories of
Rajini & kavitha)
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2022
i hope that modern realise that with their so-called liberation
of: once upon a time taking care of children
cooking: the best form of chemistry...
165°F for a perfectly cooked chicken breast...
that's the temperature the meat should be add...
as i was talking to Harini about her bad experiences
with dry: chalk-like chicken *******...
i had them too... Sunday lunch back in my grandparents'
house always resulted with people fighting for
the dark meat of the chicken...
the thighs, the wings, the legs...
my bad experiences with chicken ended when i started
cooking chicken...
every, single, time: juicy *******...
i managed to start cooking chicken to the sort of perfection
where people started fighting over the chicken-*******
and forgot about the dark meat...
but the internet is filled with these crazy videos...
angry women... angry men...
everyone's angry but no one's angry enough
to pick up a gun and start shooting into the air...
2nd or 3rd wave feminism...
angry men who don't know that they have been liberated...
these relationship crazed men...
bothered: 80% of women only date 20% of men...
"date"...
         i'm watching both sides.... like-for-like...
when i'm in the mood and decide to go to the brothel...
i have this failsafe ontology regarding my
"whittle 'ichard itch-'ard"...
well... i would be the natural reply to how women
have monetized their bodies on ONLYFANS
and the like...
            i was going to be the natural byproduct:
nature abhors vacuums...
and oddly enough has to work on a thesaurus basis:
the antonym of an ONLYFANS girl is... ?
me...
                  oh to hell with relationships...
i don't appreciate crazed-shy doe either...
                  i watched one on the bus opening a bottle
of 7up... it was warm... very warm...
lazily: the bottle burst... hmm... how that fizzy wet liquid
glued itself to her skin and she became
more radiant with the addition of sugar diamonds      
from the liquid...
       it is a very warm summer...
seems the girls need to expose more...
i too would love to...

on the liberation front... single mums still need
plumbers... blah blah...
i hate this ***-"war" offensive on either side:
of course men and women never got on:
but not getting on happened after the initial
honeymoon period...
at least back in the day the sexes got on enough
to shackle up and have children:
problems between the sexes happened
a posteriori...
                         now? problems between the sexes
are a priori...
they are being ingrained in us...

i was so close to breaking my build up for an hour's
worth of *** just 30 minutes ago...
about 5 times during the day...
get the blood pumping...
mind you: i did drink some semi-skimmed milk
and had to do the runner:
i don't know... full-fat milk, no problem...
semi-skimmed... ****-problems...
Jasmine Black... she's Romanian... and on the plump
side of the spectrum...
and no pictures of ***** either...
either her solo or with another woman...
i checked myself last time: when Michaela was
available: a Jasmine Black lookalike...
yeah: like i'm a Brad Pitt lookalike...
   but i kept having to get an ego-*******:
to cure myself from *******...
yes... you're having ***...
           yes... she's moaning and groaning during
oral ***... blah blah... you're replying:
there's the mirror...
hanging ******* on your torso...
then both torsos meet...

                 hell: you read enough Marquis de Sade
in your teens... you start to gear up to a better
picture... i found out that i like writing about ***...
not in a self-help sort of way...
a self-improvement sort of way...
16th... Wembley... **** it... i'm visiting the brothel
again... 18th... London Stadium... late finish...
i'm going again...

that's why i'm working: i'm working to give
the economy a boost... i'm not going to spend
the money i spend on prostitutes:
mind you... what exploitation?
all these women enjoy ***...
one asks you to pay her extra for *** without
a ******... some other doesn't even bother
and does it for the thrill:
she even says: live dangerously...

i can't complain... i'm also... somewhat liberated...
esp. if at one point you're the one stealing kisses
while at times you're the adult seagull
and she's the seagull chick and she impressively
jumps in to steal a kiss from you...
you relax: have a drink... smoke a cigarette...
and then the bodies collapse in a wriggling composition...

i like thinking about ***... i feel a different sort
of gravity in my groin... it's a whirlwind sort
of gravity... spinning spinning eternal spinning:
coupled with VADER covering MAYHEM's
song: freezing moon...
better than the original...

i like writing about ***... i like escaping into it...
i like the trial of jerking off four days prior
to ******* without *******...
which implies: on the day: i will be ultra virile...
and i'm still very happy that i haven't
bedded a woman from England: my acquired
nation... or a woman from Poland:
a nation i was born out of...
i think i'll stick to Romanian and Turkish girls...

well... if the women feel liberated? so do i!
but nothing via dating apps: no hook-up culture
for me... i bring the money and place it on the table...
just so... no one gets confused or has
double-standards or: whatever...
let's not play: prize-pretend...
i can do whatever the hell was once expected
from a woman... please... beside rearing children:
darling... there's no... need...
truly... relax... do you!
                   i'm still going to have my fun...
in an unabashed version of myself...
because? i stand watching movies...
i prefer to avoid restaurants...
i like eating on my own:
i like drinking on my own...

we all must be crazy by now...
oh: that recent Psychology Today article that the women
are raving about, how "lonely men"
require therapy?
i've been through that...
isn't therapy lovely?
they prescribe you some anti-psychotic pills...
you put on about 30kg...
then wait about 10 years to get your libido back...
start exercising again: waking up from this
pharmacological slumber... i must have been
some version of a competition:
to be treated like: at least the Islamic terrorists are
still treated decently: seriously: as a threat...

i am on a stretch of road where now i'm
thinking of the people afraid of the acronym FOMO:
fear of missing out with a glee...
who needs a girlfriend when i have my shadow
to wrestle with: a shadow that said:
you will not dream...
i can go to concerts and football matches:
let alone for free: but get paid for them!
i'm going to bask in this moonlight...
i've seen my own worth of **** to finally find myself!

but i still don't understand the dynamic
between the sexes...
   and i don't want to...
dating apps my ***... i will never use them...
i'm not lonely: i'm just alone...
loneliness is a trait of character:
being alone is an existential "qualm"...
     of qua per se... as being for itself...
which is a... ******* mighty juggling act to accomplish...

but if i have nothing on my mind...
it's usually that i have an irritable bowel from drinking
semi-skimmed milk or having an ego
for a phallus and a perpetuated *******
in mind: or that i'm gearing up for an hour in
the brothel... with some plump beauty...
i wouldn't dare to discriminate against
any woman's body:
like my grandfather used to say:

all women are beautiful...
it's just that some... some are just neglected...
they're not ugly: they're just neglected...
very true: those richer curves are best
exposed and intervened with when they're touching
another body... they sort of fill the "gaps"...
i love plump women... they sort of behave like
water... well... water + flour = dough...
skinny younglings remind me
of spiders... i like these plump beauties...
they sort of absorb your body in ways unimaginable...
they fuse with your body...

read enough Marquis de Sade and then have
your fun writing about ***...

for a while i started to realise that the women i'm
working with have started a ploy:
figuring out whether i'm thirsty:
sexually awkward... hmm hmm x1 x2, x3...
no lapse into desperation: why would i feel desperate?
i can get what i want...
i don't steal bread: i buy bread...
i don't steal *** via the hook-up dating-app culture...
i buy ***... of course: i bypassed the Darwinistic
puritanism of "you're expected to follow the natural
selection laws of women":

erm... no, you're not... prostitution predates Darwinism...
*** can be bought and sold...
there's no reason to be sober like at the zenith
of American puritanism with the laws of prohibition...
likewise so: now...
i don't need to pretend that women have a sway
on the availability of ***...
after all... i'm not a ****... women sway over women
whatever argument is left in their arsenal...
women will not agree...
what man would want to **** an intellectual
woman who's only prowess is banking on
feminism? men have their intellectual disparities:
but you can hardly ascribe feminism
to feministic-stoicism... or feministic-scholasticism...
or blah blah...
i like ******* women who like to be ******...
who don't complain about being ******
for the simple reason that they like to
be ****** and they'd rather listed to Liszt play
the ******* piano than play a piano themselves!

the world is so uncomplicated when you listen
to the wind and then recognise the fact that:
the wind can't play a trombone...
a wind can play the tree: rustling the leaves...
a wind can play the grass...
sure as ****: a saxophone can't play a tree...

i can imitate barking at a dog... i can imitate croaking
at a crow...
but a dog will hardly bypass its bark
and call me a YACK!
nor a crow croak that i'm a crackling crisp...

i mentioned plump prostitutes...
that's different: to what you see every-day:
those magnificently grotesque:
beached... whales...
it's different... a plump ******* is a plump
******* because: many men find her
attractive...
but... that "mommy" of a beached-whale type?
why don't men find her attractive?
because one man does... or rather:
one man has allowed her to become so unattractive
that she's no more than a fat-***-*****
pushing a baby-buggy...

prostitutes prolong their sexuality way longer
than atypical women...
a man will still find a fat 50+ ******* a decent
**** than a woman who has settled for
the glorified Christian tradition of marriage...
mind you: she's probably prone to cheat...
personally? i don't mind sharing partners:
what i abhor? the innocence of... lying...
is this the part where i say: some people think
they're being... "cute"... by lying?
cute, or cutlass?

i don't mind knowing: as long as i know...
there's nothing worse on a man's conscience than:
not knowing...
being lied to is infuriating...
it's intruding on the dignity of one's own claim
to believe: in anything...
whether that be a Hebrew deity that's deity eater
or whether it's the Arabic solipsistic deity...

i like writing about ***... the mirage of mirrors...
the antithesis of ******* in mirrors...
perhaps, once, upon, a, time...
i could have survived pair bonding with some
woman... these days...
it's enough that i have a mother,
a maternal grandmother and no knowledge
of my paternal grandmother...
perhaps it's better this way...
i think i'll take my *** into the garden
and find some shade until 10am...

i truly love women... but idealising the opposite ***
is hardly an answer to the perverted questions
at hand...
if women feel liberated because they don't
have to marry a class of men that are their
plumbers and their electricians:
women who raise boys whom their infantilize...
whom they turn into little-make-shift
Oedipus one after another...
me? stepping in?
i tried it once... she was all over the game
of me brining homemade wine and some banana
loaf: she couldn't handle a man...
she needed a boy... a thirsty boy...
she required her own offspring and a thirsty boy
of a "man"...

i don't need that... no wonder i prefer the company
of prostitutes... and cats... and dogs...
most of these women want both
the casual ***: and the casual *** with and without
commitment...
sorry... i can't do all three...
liberated women ought to know better...
ought to know best... QUEENS...
blah-ah-ha-ha!
i'm all for casual ***: but not a hook-up culture...
money first... fun... later...

              that's how the dynamic of money
and flesh works...
that's why i work the debit mechanisation more than
i work the credit mechanisation:
i spend what i earn i spend what i have
i don't spend what i can't earn
or spend what i don't have... i don't favour the credit
system: that's why i set up my second bank account
so quickly... what credit score?
when i don't use the credit system?!

i like prostitutes... they are a gateway toward
a monetary sanity...
no one wants to have *** after eating a meal...
ergo? dating is obsolete...
i have *** on an empty stomach...
emptied by a dry cider... 750ml walked
around... with some whiskey...
dating... ugh... i am: LIBERATED!
i don't have to fight for any country i'm supposedly
assigned to... i don't have to marry!
i can love the children of strangers like
they might be my own! i, am, freed!
from obligations of matrimony!

**** me... i'm freer than freedom could possibly
allow me to be!
women have paved a way to true freedom!
they think themselves freed...
but they didn't realise how freed up i've become!
i don't have to pay that infamous bachelors' tax
anymore! renowned in Poland...
i can **** prostitutes on a whim!
wow! this is freedom?! wow!
more, please! more!

           great bargaining tactic: woman!
i can do the Pontius Pilate on your *** and no one will
even begin blinking a counter-argument!
amazing... i'm glad both of us will
prosper from: your demands...
my lack of: demands...
                  now i can freely **** around without
having to listen to you having a monopoly of
me even thinking that i have a monopoly
to **** around! beau-ti-ful!
more! more! more!                     more!

thank you... it's as if i was dealt a hand in Poker
with a Poker... it's *******: glorifyingly:
poetically: majestic!
       i love it... more please...
                    
eh... 20 males to 1 woman...
doesn't bother me...
                they taste: sorry... female *****
taste better with more ****** partners...
nature: sort of weird...
oh sure: the more ****** partners a woman has?
the better her ****** juices taste...
her **** becomes equivalent to a leather chair...
like all leather: fresh... ****** leather?
smells disgusting... the more it's worn down?
the better the quality...
plus... the better her *** is...
*** with virgins is boring...
*** with virgins is intimidating for
normal men: there's always that... sense of...
authority from prior experience:
teaching... i don't understand why women
succumb to those pedohphile perverts to teach them
nothing at all...  

then again... what do i care?
it's like that article in the Saturday Times...
a woman in her 40s was left gloating:
but i have 3 loves in their 20s greedily..
hell: i can compete:
what's free? these days?"
i can compete... i earn money to spend on
prostitutes who will subsequently
invest money in this economy...

it's too hot... i think i need to sleep
in the garden under the blooming moon...
spiders and ants might crawl into my nostrils
into my mouth and into my ears...
no matter, i'll cool off...
             but i feel: i feel!

so liberated from modern woman!
i don't need her: i don't own her...
        thank you! modern woman!
       THANK YOU!
                         while your old school sisters
practice prostitution: i'm just: dandy: fine...
thank you!
      i believe in euthanasia
and the idea that i'm not going to be
your next petty grandpa...
                     the cruel realities of the REAL...
what?!
fatin  Sep 2021
malam.
fatin Sep 2021
dingin malam seperti bukan untuk ku..
aku sedang memikirkan jawatanmu di layak kisahku..
apakah kau layakku namakan mimpi atau masa lalu?

apa ku harus aku gelar kamu puisi tak selesai?

ya.
aku menulis lagi...
padahal kau telah lupa
sedikit pun tentang apa kita ucapkan
selamat pagi buat kita jatuh cinta
dan
selamat tinggal yg tak pernah kita ucap
adakah sisa sesal di hatimu?
atau cuma malu alasanmu utk tak berbicara lagi...?

masih ku kenang ke harini utk soal hati mu
tapi puisiku cumalah kata kata yg tak punyai jari
yg tak bisa menyentuh hatimu