Billy's ******* Pennies
Dont tickle Jenny's Kitty
But Jonny's Fifty Milli
Make ******* Pennies silly
And Jenny's Filthy *****
Loves Jonny's Harry Milli
Even Tho Jonny got A Milli
Other Jenny's
But Billy's Lonely Willie
Only Longs for Jenny's Kitty
But Jenny looks so Silly
Chasing after Jonny's Milli
When Jonny's Chasing Billy's ******* Pennies

Those who lash out when the heart speaks
avoid the many mirrors reflecting themselves
For in this rippled dream,
where perfect does exist
and mistakes are long gone like a Milli Vanilli song,
they fail to see that we are all human…
errors come with the package (batteries not included)

Sidewalk footprints, back and forth
pacing past the entrance to that world
where words have no meaning,
regardless of how they are spoken (or written)
Self-absorbed deeply in the waves
of that ocean tide of fantasy
crashing in white foam feelings, disappearing by sunset

What is it that makes us who we are…
our smile, our fingers, our brand of cigarettes
shipped in plain brown envelopes,
our thoughts, our dreams, the poetry we write
when we need to get it out…good or bad
When lack of judgment drips from the skylight
illuminating courage to do what we shouldn’t (even in darkness)

Wrong, I was wrong…regret, more than I could have known
I have looked in this mirror, then I looked away quickly,
Ashamed of that face, fell three stories below my heart  
slipped on the disgust splattered at my feet (by me)
sunk up to my knees…bent, folding, scraped and bruised
but I require no sympathy, for I am not that devil Jagger sings of…
at least I hope not…please allow me to introduce myself…I am sorry

Tere bin yeah zindagi mazaak see lagti hai
Har  dhuvay mai lipti apni he aag lagti hai

Tunay thama tha hath mera toh hum chalna jaan gaye
feesal rahia hai kadam kyun ki thokarey apni he lagti hai
Nigahain num naa huvi  toh gilla rehta he hai
Har katrai-e-ansu phir bhi ek shikayat see lagti hai
Yeah kis mode pay hum akay rukay,na manzil hai aur naa rasta
Faryaad kissay ab karey ki har shey ajnabi see lagti hai.
ghum-e-samandar k kinarey pay  tanhaa betha hai yeh dil
Pass aye toh aye kon ki dardkaney bhi ab sazaa see lagti hai
Bichard kay tumsay hum khoye kahaan naa maloom hai
Jistiju mai har bikhra nishaan apni he pehchaan lagti hai
Yeah kaisi inayat hai ki tummay mang kar yun ruswaye milli
kyun har dua ab yun khairaat see lagti hai
Yeah ishq kyun aisa hai ,naa tera hai aur naa mera
kab aye aur kab gaye ki choti see mulakat lagti hai
Ab aur nibaya nhi jata RUMI,yeah **** bina rooh  kay
Mere waja say yeah duniya kyunki pereshaan see lagti hai

...Aabid Rumii
Tanzeelah Illahi

Gandalf: a character ( wizard) from the legend that is lord of the rings
...

chapter - 0:



he was walking past the useless lake on a breezy autumn day when the gust of wind brought with it the scent of a thousand abandoned garage bags littering the corner of this semi unorganised semi-civilised halli part of a mega city.

his home was about three thousand kilometres away and a dozen hundred dialects removed from where he chose to pursue his 'higher' education.

a term he took literally and to heart.

he was almost always high, if that's what you call being semi awake and always clawing somewhere deep, both mentally and sometimes even physically.


but as soon as the cacophony of a thousand different bad smells hit his soul, he knew the trip was over.

he jolted back to existence from an escalating thought process leading him to the discovery of a new and a better universe.

he took a deep breath and immediately regretted his decision, almost screaming in horror.

and while he was battling a lost battle trying to defeat an invisible and impossible to contain force of population and pollution,

his smoked eyes latched onto a figure emerging from the corner of his smoked eyes.

he suddenly realised where he was. and it wasn't where he thought he was about two seconds ago.

leaf-less and life-less trees stood where he could swear was just an empty slightly orange and red sky a few milli moments ago  

the lake had turned from blue to a shade of green or was it still blue ?
he wasn't interested at all, so he just gave up reasoning in mid-process..

what difference does it make ?

but suddenly his mellowed mind  realised the threat, and his attitude changed from i-don't-really-give-a-**** to oh-****.

there was something else there too, and he, like a ******* cat- turned around just in time to see what it was,

and the time stood still. he couldn't believe his eyes.

it was    gandalf.

**** it. he was sure. ******* gandalf.
with a ******* stick, his beard and that grey whatever. gandalf.

he took a deep breath again. it didn't hurt as bad as before. maybe it was growing on him. he took another breath just to make sure it wasn't. it wasn't.


and as gandalf started becoming bigger and bigger, he could see his mighty white beard dancing in the wind more clearly. he could sense his aura radiating a wonderful positive force that was almost impossible to describe with a naked eye and with an F  in communication skills.

gandalf was finally a stone throw away from the boy. he could throw a stone at him. he could but he wouldn't. no, he thought about it but no. it wouldn't make sense. it was too insane of an idea too. he wasn't yet ready to accept his true human nature that enjoyed the absurdity of violence.

though he was a hard-core stoner.  ah irony and puns.


instead he took the more scenic route and almost mumbled " gandalf?! what?!?! "


it took the old white man a second to register but he managed a sudden " gand elf, what?!? "

it wasn't awkward yet. but it was india. so it kinda' was.

the boy almost trained in apologising professionally and profoundly, mumbled " oh, no.. I'm sorry.. I just.. you know.. there's this .. dude.. people do cosplays now.. and I was a little high... ahem.. I mean I was thinking.. I mean I saw.. you.. I mean, I swear you're looking like a ******* gandalf.. I mean gandalf ?!?! "


another gust of wind and they both frowned.

gandalf responded " who .. what the **** is gand elf ?!?!"


the boy " he was supposed to be a dwarf like something.. but he become a wizard and tall, you know .. fought a dragon.. and rode giant birds.. ?!?! "


not gandalf " what the **** are you talking about, what is wrong with you, you're not making any ******* sense and I, I'm .. hey, you see.. just saying, I'm very good at making sense, that all "


the boy " so, are you like a ******* teacher or a .. scientist?!? "


not gandalf? "ummm.. well you can say that.. something like that "


the boy " what do you mean, for all I know you could be a perverted ******* who also happens to wander the woods doing weird cosplays and killing people. "

not gandalf " the ****, kid ?! jeez.. simmer down.. that TV is insane, you guys ******* love it.. **** man.. I should have stopped that from happening... and video games! god, they ****.. I should have just killed the lot of you.. " and on went a rant the strange man


the boy " wo.. wo.. whoa.. wait, you're talking like you are better than the rest of us...are you on crack ? what are you even saying you ***... you're more like someone who pulls on broken strings on a hand down guitar on some shady corner of an immaculate subway... you're just a boomer, are you not, mister ? "


strange man not gandalf " well, in a way I am.. I am.. well, I am everything and everyone" he whispered..    a satisfying smile almost breaking out


the boy " the ******* mean ******* ?!? "

this was too much for the old man who was just having a walk and minding his own business

he whispered more angrily his time " oh you punk, you little punk I'll tell you! I'm ******* god, you **** .. yeah, **** it.. I'm not even kidding.. I'm ******* god, yeah!... **** it *****!. "


he took his hand and pointed to the sky and the clouds parted.


the boy couldn't believe his eyes, and almost suddenly the clouds began to form a shape.

he couldn't make it out at first, all he could see was that the old man who claimed to be a god, drawing something in the air.

he looked up and finally realised what it was.

God was drawing a giant duck in the sky.

and as he was staring up in a mixture of disbelief and horror,  the old man spoke loudly " that's you.. you sick ****.. it's your little duck. "


old-man-now-god-went on "... I mean it looks like a big duck 'cause you couldn't see it otherwise.. but drawing to ratio... it's your little duck.. and the whole world can see it now.. and they know it's small.. and not as big as it appears because it had to be big enough for everybody to see.. "


the boy was now going insane. anybody would. people just don't turn up, part clouds and draw ducks in the sky.. that doesn't even happen in movies.



the boy went on- a little horrified of what he had just witnessed " what kind of a god are you, I mean... what in the god's name was that ? how did you do it. ?"


God responded with squinty eyes " which part of i-am-a-*******-God did you not understand.. you.. you stupid mortal. "

from the depths of darkness a flicker of light emerged in the boy's mind, and he realised something very important..


the boy " hey, you can't be god, god won't ******* curse! he's god. " screaming cautiously at the stranger...


God had heard petty arguments and had gone through all that phase of  people taking some time to turn around and warm up to the idea of the literal god in front of them, he'd been over that all his life.

but this was the single dumbest thing he had ever heard since he made the decision to create the universe in a hurry.

God thought to himself " I should have paid more attention. meh. "

one more thing- the boy went on " why are you a he ? not a she ? I mean if you're a god why be ... I mean an old man with a stupid beard. why not somebody hot, and cool... and with a nice body and a face... slightly better... or maybe much better..  you get the point, right ? I mean.. you're god, right ? "

God just stood there and soaked in his own filth.

the boy went on hysterically " oh my... did you hear my answer even before I said it ? did you ? I mean can you ?... and did you ? or was it you that gave the answer.. 'cuz if you made the universe.. you made me too, right ?. "


God was annoyed. like really annoyed at this point and he blurted out " you think I made you ? you think one fine day I woke up and I thought to myself.. oh! I've created this beautiful but empty place full of darkness and the cold, spectacle of fire dancing in nothingness- breathing life in ***** of all kinds circling around the stars and what not.. and you think I was like 'what am I missing ?'... oh yes, right! I'm missing one ungrateful ******* snake with a little duck. "


the boy stunned " God ?!.. No, **** no! "

god almost curios " why would you say that. why did you even speak , why! "


the boy " my duck .. you know.. ain't that ... small. "



God almost smirking " shut up, *****. "


the boy " oh, yeah.. right you... really know how to abuse your own species. jeez. "


God " I didn't make you ... I ******* dropped my dope in the ocean once and you ******* things came out of it. "

he went on " I thought you'd die on your own but nah.. life's too nasty.. ugly and ... you know... it's.. admittedly... quite beautiful. "

time stood still as soon as he said that.

and it was a beautiful moment. both god and the boy trying not to turn red or cry.



" but the sad part is.. " God whispered with the love of a thousand cuddling pandas " you guys found me, I mean... oh my God! that brain thing really worked ... extraordinary! my subordinates tell me ... very expensive.. err... I mean to design... "


the boy " people work for you ? what ?! that's like.. you have a staff ?!.. weird. "


God " *****, i'm ******* god.. I don't have a staff.. I ******* make the staff. and no that's not even an iota of weird.. but you know what's weird ...truly weird, a fact so crazy that it'll blow your mind and give you enough wisdom to tear through the fabric of the world I've made and undiscover all its secrets, science and gossip?!  "


the boy was now as curious as a teenage boy in teenage, he replied " what?! tell me.. is it here on earth ?!"



God " yes, it is my child.. indeed it is! such joy!... and it is also right here where we stand. "


the boy's mind went into an overdrive.. maybe this was all his design.. the almighty has come to show him the path.. out of these woods he's lost in.... and also a path of divinity and happiness.. and also he had watched Bruce almighty a dozen times or so... he was ready.


almost in a poetic voice filled with a general sense of elation.. the boy asked god " tell me.. please what is it pleaseeee ? "


the god smiled, in a way only a father smiles to her new born daughter.. knowing she's going to be paid less, has to go through the cycle of being temporary insane every month ( or that's what female's had been telling him .. it doesn't matter.. you a guy.. you see a woman in pain.. you *******... that's 10 hours of her ******* the life out of you. and you still wouldn't be a good listener or attentive according to her even if you give up in the 9th hour.

the boys repeated desperately " what is it! I'd be a good boy but please tell me pleaseeee! "

and the god smiled. he smiled and pointed to him. " that there , that is it.. that ugly ******* little duck of yours. "


and immediately burst into a laughter more grandeur than any sound in the world. I mean right after radiohead but whatever.


the boy saw his finger and tried to trace it's path. and almost in a moment.. it was over.


he had lost it- he screamed at the creator " you think you can make fun of me 'cuz you a big guy ? you think you can make fun of me because you're the most powerful thing there is and can literally turn me into 50 hands and no ducks... just living life in pure agony.. " he trailed off looking a bit distant towards the ending..

God " jeez. kid. you don't have to be so dark and imaginative unnecessarily.. see, okay I'm sorry... I hurt your little heart...which by the way I have made and do own the materials to.. and that's why you're alive... basically all of you and everything.. now to think of it.. it does make me a big guy... or more than that... but that's not the point. "

he went on " the point is i should've known better... because you know I made it all.  even the concept of being better..  booom! blows your mind ain't it.. chuck it.. and the point is.. I should've known better, so I'm  sorry!.. you can tell people I said sorry but they're not 'gonna believe someone like you "


the boy " **** do you mean someone like me?! " back in his form


god " oh you know... someone with a small...... ******* duck !"

and the god fell down laughing hysterically and immediately as soon he said the words..

rolling all over the soft grass and the boy's face.


the boy had enough- he screamed " **** like you can spend two minutes being a human... who's to tell you didn't have a small duck and then just made yourself one big enough " his voice trailing in the wind


god hadn't been spoken like this since the invention of languages.. oh how much he despised languages..a ******* constant annoying noise in his head specially the bengali.. **** them.

God spoke back " oh, so you think being a snake is better than being the almighty ?! "


the boy " I'm not a snake.. I'm a human.. what school did you got to ? "

God " you can be a ******* rock for all I care ... just be nothing.. you know.. instead of being everything.. the idea of it... it's is rather.. you know... so beautiful. "


and at that moment the boy realised that even god wasn't immune to something that he didn't know.


the god " I'll do you a deal, you be two seconds in my place and I'll be two seconds in your place... and then we'll know.. I'll know the fear of being nothing and you can know the escatsy of being everything. deal dawg ?"


the boy " but.. like two seconds .. awful less of a time to enjoy any kind of escatsy "

God " running late, mate. "


the boy " okay okay.. let's do it "



God smiled a bit and immediately a giant light came down from the sky roaring with a thousand thunderstorms...

wind was growing stronger by the second and it was almost impossible to hear anything... or analyse anything for that matter...

God screamed at the boy " it's going to go in your *** and out of your mouth.. and your soul will be passed to mine.. "

the boy screamed back in oh-my-god-that-face horror barely making any coherent sense.


God rolling on the floor laughing
" jeez. I'm kidding you punk.... that face tho.. so woke.. so woke..."

it took some time but he picked himself back up and screamed at the boy " it's going to happen... three..two.. one.. " and boom


the boy felt what can only be described as the best ****** anybody has ever had.


the god felt like what can only be described as the hardest kick to the nuts in the history of universe.

two seconds after... bam! everything stood still.. like nothing had happened.


both stared at each other for a while..
God went first " so, ... ?! "


the boy " yeah. "


God " pretty tense...yeah.. *******.. I mean.. God!.. you guys are awful to be.. it *****.. I gotta' change that thing... you know... about people taking their own life... and going to hell... I get it... I mean..  yeah.. you know... like whatever."

God went on " how was yours. "

the boy " yea.. pretty chill.. ... "

God " that it, boy ?! "

the boy " yeah. .. mostly "


God " hmm.. woke.. woke... so were you clever enough to do something for yourself ? "

the boy " oh..yeah..pretty much.. nice cars and girls.. stuff.. " his voice cracking with a very refined i-don't-give-a-**** attitude


the wind was still now. butterflies were flying between the blooming flowers and singing AC/DC for some reason. it was pleasant.


god snapped his finger once and said " so.. yeah i should go now... apparently somebody's supposed to take a picture of me in the sky.. gotta flex up.. chow~ "


God snapped his finger a second time and lo behold!  like that he was gone ****!...


the boy stood still for a moment longer. he smiled and walked away.




(4 days later...)



god was in the alps...looking out of the large window wondering how dreadful it is to be human..  

and as he was crawling in and out of different dimensions he smelt something. something interesting.


it was alcohol. ( he's god so it's very easy for him to figure out such little things.)

so he went over the fancy bar and poured himself some *****.. " ah potatoes.. at least they turned out to be just right.." he thought out loud.

and then he proceeded to drink himself to death.. countless times. 'cuz he could do that. he was god.


over and over again. glass being neither full or half or even ******* empty.

drink after drink. and soon late enough he went into a deep slumber because of course god loves a good sleep. who doesn't ?


he slept through the entire life span of many insects and until the breaking dawn.

the first rays of the sun hit the mighty alps as well as the face of this almighty being on a white bed in a red hotel by a blue lake who had forgotten you do your own curtains in the human world.

his first thought was to destroy the sun- it took a lot to not lift his finger.

slowly but surely he regained his infinitum consciousness, and got in touch with the multi dimensional universes sprawling all over every  second in past and future simultaneously... but **** that 'cuz the head ache oh! so painful.. almost made him forgot he could just not want it and it won't happen.

God did not enjoy most human banalities.. but he did enjoy a rather a peculiar one...even more than drinking and kissing death. the one of peeing.

and he had to ***. bad.


God, with a hint of a smile lifted his finger and boom he was right by- where the deed is done in a civilised community. he imagined what would people think if they came to know why he's always more often than not a 'he' than a 'she'.

he was in his stark boxers, standing almost naked with a smile on his face enjoying the rush.

pink floyd started playing out of the thin air. an autumn's calm spread through the veins of this sudden universe. I kid you not, shahrukh khan was there with his arms wide open.

slowly the god began the almost holy ritual.

pull down the garment. admire. take it out. admire. do the deed, keep admiring. put it back. sigh. very well organised and neat.

so god took a deep breath, looked at the alps one more time, looked down with a smile on his face, and slowly pulled down the garment... his consciousness in a rush.

and then god screamed. there was a duck.

All Along this chain link fence
pulsing incessant down ground-ward decent

Bone paved side cracked and twisting this winding road
No street lights rest stops my nerve twitch eyes closed

swelling and curving no stretch in shoulder
Wheels rub the hot spot as ripples get louder

Sliding highways you know that fun
till happy turns hazard drinking redrum

tumblingdown head first
shatteringhigh star burst
scatteringmy focus
splatteringlike bone crush
scaffoldingdo not touch!

Another brick in the wall of fame
extra activity considered the game

Now Excel at macro Alt Shift and paste
spreadsheet my back line the facts on my face  

"Say Boy!, your speedy." from there I can trace
That needle-nosed issue in tissue displaced

bend over run forward turn left then cough
so perfect small packages get checked in then lost

Like milli tary or leaves when it out lived the need
***** the life from under shelter asteamed

Sleeping pins needle in terminal sensation
clinching and grasping to my spinal decoration

twisting and turning will bring no release
this physical chain from my **** cyst to neck leash

when typing or driving the pleasure is lost
when numbness takes over attention to high a cost

I'm broken together
one round at a time
yet the cords are in place
to ring in tune as it grinds.

A circle speaks volumes.
Revolutionize and tidy up.
Instruction manuals are read automatically.
Privacy parts the talon and now,
how the sky blinks a feather ever so unusually.

Ever wake up in your sleep to your head fully stuck in the sixth sense
stomach of a pillow, and thought to yourself in bed about how much of
a dream it must be to be stuffed turkey?

I haven't.

Or thought to your self made bed how making the bed as an edible
symbol of thanksgiving
is like taking a stand
on a landmine,
for eternity?

I haven't.
I also lie and lay awake to myself.

Although a traveler tends to do all of the above,
below the radar.
A farmer tends too.
Eats an earthquake,
aftershock, rattled rim, pacific clarity, clear the oceans, tremors, tremors,
Noah's ark is a humpback funeral home.
Noah riding a hearse by the hubcap, clean teeth grip.
Noah in my mouth, reciting odd numbers on my taste buds.

Noah licking a polished nail, course matte for me,
three by three, the poor
poor bones of a humpback whale singing sad on a mountain.

You have to wonder about coffins when it's death out.
And water among amidst when your lungs are thirsty.
And since it seems the tried and tested walk has all but run away,
some metal wood rubber leather latex silk wool boxes spit out tickets.

A materialistic downer on uppers levels off at acceptance.
And yeah, smoking will **** you, but this is about me and I need to inhale.
This is not about me, but about you, or was that nature?
The nature of nurturing seems as good a point to start this conversation.
But it's dead end talk to talk in line segments, and well, ****,
it's time for an advertisement:

This cylinder tin is full of everything your life is empty of!
Forget the cost; be content with the contents,
rehearse the ingredients, unload the all and do it again.
Infatuation is hot-air gas inflated in the belly of outer space.
I love the way those stars look and those stars love looking at me.

The cut and paste of our human race is unfairly lopsided.
The northern blade has a tumor the size of misdirection,
the scales are tipped, the whips are tipped, and the weapons are gripped.
Sudan doesn't own scissors; Angola is the axis of axe-less
but their ******* skyline is incestuously bright,
their constellations all make sense,
and their astronauts haven't lifted off, to jump and jive in the very
same sky we share with them.
No, not yet, there are animals to be slaughtered sedimentary still.
Ones with tribal names that come off the tongue like mouth sound effects,
they are almost people, without horns hammered in their heads.

Eating on all fours from a license plate.
Dig in, Donesia.
How is life in amnesia, brain pulp square?
Psychologically disturbed map and memory loss, southwest Asia?
Your address is a long walk, but the **** citizen on the roadside exhibit
is a refreshing remix to our boring, bragging billboards.
And your suffering is art to the skull and cross-bone pale cube galleries
that we call home sweet, home sweet merchandise.
And rest assured, your lack of rest will insure western survival,
North America will steal your toddler corpses
and sell them at the front gates of your orphanage ghettos.
It's the least we can do after gouging out your eyeballs.

I didn't even write this, it was drawn by a blind boy in India.

The black market pencil case people are going to a blow-out sale.
The sales on them and the jokes a bomb.
The jokes on them and the sales a bomb.
The bombs on them and the jokes a sale.
The female holds her breath and suffocates a male.
And the genders collapse in heaps and heaves, recycled and broke
like natural leaves caught in a mythological fighter
jet's propeller.
Like aeroplanes, several even, oddly amount conclusive crash-like.
Like, like, like, if the globe of green and blue were to still be alive
I would colour co-ordinate accordingly, and wear whatever hue
the big bang theory wasn't.
Dust particles getting it on and such.
Finger painting *** with a rag and pan pencil case.

The black market Darwin drawin' is on fire in the pockets of our youth,
elderly lint in same corduroy bent knuckle nameless, places
an introduction to i.v. and a never un-shook from his hinges
living room magazine holder.
So the flinching milli-metricks betwixt our beloved booklets brings
gratification, satisfaction, and eternal life.
And gravity with a runny nose.
Oh, oh!  My first ever and last edit: Make that ******.

So I'm infinite pass-time, tedious rusty grime
and dead llama on the zoo-way.
"Look Ma, a dead llama!"
"No dear, she is just sleeping with her blood out
and cage on".

No more rides for the unknown, let it be known.
Call your superiors, mega-impose their posteriors, an emphasis on
brittle lives.
And chew the fat, chew the fat, **** the marrow, narrow
weight-scale bound in chain-mail, accidental prediction protection,
magnify, mortify, modern sill overdosing on wake pills, horticultural hi.

I am coherent when the setting is all tens, when
the plot is all tens, when the characters are all reaping tens.
The catch is in the ******, looking scared cloth-less elevens.

Judges, what verdict gives you
the right to wig wear an oak arm chair
with an all too obvious worn-mallet-beating-desktop syndrome
bashing your would be innocent until proven rich-boy lashes, err, guilty?

Was that even a question,
or merely a stir-fried rant?

The master chefs are coming after us all in our under garments,
over bridges and mountains and tiger stance wisdom and
we need a Messiah like we need horseshoes on our foreheads.

Mule yoke split on the frying pan of till death do us cook.
Separation nation; a river plain, a barren abstract.
And the artists are painting droplets on their toes,
kissing themselves after a game of Chinese checkers,
determined to squirm sweet nothings while riding
question mark shaped seats from Sweden.

And under a hail of Mary's, Jason's, William's, Susan's, and missiles,
they touch their ankles where they know
nails should be,
extinct.

A circle sounds off,
a sky sounds awful,
a bomb sounds right,
a body sounds circles,
and a circle speaks volumes.

....the way she walks and the way she talks
She is the fairest of folklores
She drains me of words
And drowns me in thoughts
She is the reason I smile
Even amidst a milli reasons to cry;
The magic mat on which I fly
Deep into the fluffy clouds of fantasy
Where only she and I will be,
Watching our lives unfold like a golden scroll
Living every day as it comes......

there's something about how a clock-tick
of one milli-second
can send chills down my spine.
suddenly its another day lived
and how to some people this is the ultimate
blessing from the almighty
or maybe a dreadful curse sent from below.
tell me why there is this systematic
completion of 24-hours
or how no one feels older on their birthday.
no difference in time can sway me
except the darkness that begins to fill my
window as the sun goes down
ripping the light from my iris
and the good from my heart.

Samaj ke bandisho se azad
Bin pankho se urna chahti hu
Pankh tute hai to kya
Khawo se aashaman sajana chahti hu

Hoshlo ki urran hu main
kisi ki muskan hu main
bharat ki anokhi shan hu main
band pare khawbo ki arman hu main

manti hu zindgi ke safar me
Me mil jate hai kuch humsafar
naa hote hue apne
Phir ban jate band aankho ke sapne

Haa main uarna chahti hu
Oos ke bund ki tarah dhara ko susobhit karna chahti hu
khilkhilana chahti hu
Hasna chahti hu
Apne pankho ko failye dhara ko napna chahti hu
apni khusboo se sbko mekhkana chahti hu
apne gunjan se nabh ko gunjit karna chahti hu
kali se ful ki tarah khilna chahti hu

kya thi galti meri
kis bat ki milli mujhe  ye saja
ye Samaj ki bandishe
Pairo m jakri ye janjiro se niklna hahti hu
kuch kehna chahti hai
Khud ko khud se milana chahti hu
kyuki jaise main dikhti hu waise hu nai
Mere hai kuch azad sapne
Pinjre m band panchi nahi hu
aazad bharat ki ek shakti ka rup hu
Ek larki hu mai
Haan ek larki
jo khud apna itishah bnana chati hai
Auro se alag khud ki duniya basana chahti hai
kUch karna chati hai
Apne liye
apno ke liye
Iss jahan ke liye.

At times I sit
Back and relax
from the daily disappointment
of another failed attempt
to make a milli
out of 2 greenbacks
and a shiny penny
so money i lack
due to employers
not callin a brotha back
"dont worry Wayne"
"i dont care about that"
"im really feelin you"
"i got yo back"

her name was Elaine
beautiful black woman
skinned the finest brown
kept my head off the ground
facing up to the sky
with all the confidence
of a grown *** man
till the week my luck
ran out like
our well ran dry
i was victim of nonsence
moms got word that
i smashed in the backseat
snatched back the keys
havent seen ol' girl since

lookin up to ask
what more can happen
i recieve a call
that put me on my ***
my one thang from
around the way
was seen at the mall
hugged up wit women
i put the phone down
cause im mad as hell
turned to the liquor
tilted the bottle
maybe i can find
that hidden message
pour up the brown
so i can sip
till i cant tell
this *******
aint just in my mind

Courvoisier or Hennessy
Remy Martin too
when i find my
next one thang
the brown got my back
when im in the groove
kissing the lips
of that beautiful child
born of kings and queens
of kingdoms not crack
workin a 9 to 5
not depending on
the next coke move
relieving her stress
while breaking that back
blast off at 9
cause her love
might taste so divine
scratch me up
then we goin till 5
i know i wont
be that 60 second man
and let her down
cause the brown got my back
i figured out my problem
just gotta lay that
brown **** down

2014, a year where 90s and late 80s babies are happy hyper turnt up not turnt down are swaggerific vs Brillitelegerent. Everyday we live is a commercial Just because we see many commercials Young fly and flashy is what we all want to be but what about those that just want to be "young wild and free"

Free to speak, free to act, free to stand, free to move, free to sing, free to dance, free to read, free to eat and more importantly free to choose how and what we want things to be like Females: I see we got swag of soul urban sophisticated finesse then theres those of us who are preps that are chic may be geeks. Lastly the girls that love to twerk alot plus cover themselves in thick make up and hair dye or is it a weave or a bob (Bob)

They say we sweet cuz we got that "bubblegum" question is what is your flavor something like K Michelle? Nicki Minaj? Rihanna? Miley Cyrus? In that case so do we all skirts and crop tops and bikinis and short shorts or is it galaxy leggings or perhaps jeggings.

Fellas they say you are pimps and players dons and brothas that be like "Forget the haters" they say you are cool with swagger as Kesha said something like that Nick Jagger. Urban dominance, fitteds and suits glasses and high fades what about those high grades Yasssss my brotha ooh I cant forget about those gorgeous dread heads now Ayeeee

Alright I mentioned alot about the guys but which are you...chris brown? Drake? That boy Meek milli or Justin Beiber well whichever it is Ladies and Gentlemen Just remember your place and Destination our Generation peace

i never pledge
i take that back
i stopped a check once
to a radio station that i really love
a breaking-all-the-molds station
i listen to NPR
like that **** is going out of style
like im going to break this milli vanilli tape
after one more blame it on the rain
im dating myself
but truth be told
i would rather buy another carton
you showed me the most life changing radio
songs that made me weep for humanity
retreat deep within myself with universal contemplation
and yet a cottonless dromedary takes the cake

around others i curse these lapses in reporting
this evening news wrap-up banter
and i fake laugh at you
or should i say with you

but i feel your pain
i tried to sell time shares
rich with fake laughter
every time i hear it
you begging for money that is
im taken back to a place
where
i was foolhardy
and manipulative
knowledgeable
anxious
and vibrant

i use those moments of nostalgia
to think of her
you know who im talking about
im looking at you RADIOLAB
IRA GLASS you arent getting away with this either
you know her
i dream about what could have been
when i was foolhardy, manipulative, knowledgeable, anxious and vibrant
and how it would be like today
if i had the guts then
or time travel now
AND
if i wasnt even any of the above

but i have her now
and we listen together
we just talk over the drive
and the sponsorship ads
oh yeah
and the international news
its just depressing
OH and the bbc stuff
i dont "get" their accent

Chuck it out the window
Hide it
Under the seat
Change the cd before we're caught
Kicking it to Milli Vanilli

Gorgeous yet grotesque
way to be oblivious
can you please see us
as more than just meat

and try to meet my inner mess
one woman show, so it goes
expose the jester I kept
sheltered outta fear

they never let her feel accepted
been betrayed about a milli
but still somehow didn't seem to get it
it starts to set in something they said
super prevalent it convinced me

that we are hollow we are empty
always getting arrested by envy
guess you just jealous,
of my comedic intellect,
accidental elegance,
remind me to invest in it

Let me nest in positive intent
& sent messages.. Please,
SHUT UP AND JUST LISTEN
It it the distance dimensions
I might be privy to?
Futile the difference.. between acceptable
and dare not ******* mention

Better get it how you live, For Real fix it
Forget to exist
Cuz I sense you inching toward
a world of archetypes, white lies, and dead wishes
while alone your beautiful
I vow to never fluff you up
because my love your finished

Fully flawed
favorite flavor
**** the flock
I love your layers

gorgeous yet grotesque
forever interestin'
always messy
couldn't accept a dimension
in which we haven't met


see i will bleed for you and **** all these sheep for you
these weak dudes, they can keep it up then ******* get bruised
and although I'm a loser, Its no lie. They can't even see you
and you deserve the moon

your void is loyal
I like the noises that it makes
and I think it harmonizes with mine
better than okay our combined magic made
Never felt plastic even for a second
better reset your clock cause if your not

thankful all them stomach flutters
will become hate
from butterflies to quick little make shift shivs
stay gold, for you are gorgeous
they will gorge on each every blemish
displayed on your skin

don't be afraid to live
because your insides are
just as grotesque as mine
theres something about
that squishy equipment
and how
soft and sacred
maybe it's
slightly contaminated
like satin in a coffin

hands down...

   i'll stage a show,
akin to:

    ein hanswurst
              mit-nein schminke...

hanswurst-gesicht-gegessen-
               durch-
             die-arbeit-zustand-
    ein-lächeln:

a clown without make-up...

   clown face eaten
              by
        the work of being
            eaten by: a smile.

- but unlike "abraham" clinton...
i can tell you...
i did nothing wrong
by visiting a brothel...

       the wrong party is
protected under the "law":
it's illegal to procure
prostitution
   with a brothel...

   it's not illegal
to visit a *******,
as it is not illegal
to be a *******...

what is illegal...
is to own a brothel...
to be, the "madam"...
from what i've heard:
i haven't done
anything illegal...

and all the better for it...
given the freedom
of current women,
the only pleasure,
or the last remnant
of freedom for men
to be enjoyed...
is among prostitutes...

the "question" of rubber
isn't even on the cards...
if you've never been...
you'll never know...
what...
    feels like...
  an eternity...
  when you're not
latched onto a parasitical
****'s worth of
"responsibility"...
a "james bond" stealth tax...

not when you're
at university,
and haven't thought
about applying for a job...
not this
******* "solomon's surprise"
of a child when
you haven't learned to use
your feet...
only just finished
using up your arms...

under the english law:
i did nothing wrong
visiting a brothel...
  or a *******...
not one, iota, of harm...
  
   last time i heard...
it's not illegal to be a *******,
nor is it illegal
to be a *******'s pundit...
what is illegal...
is owning / running a brothel...
basically prostitutes
can only be prostitutes
if they serve the working
ethos of considering
themselves self-employed...
but who the **** has
the sort of money
to throw it at women,
behind a camera,
                                 jerking off?

if you're like me...
you're like the "snob"
at the smithfield "laundary"
exchange base:
some people even decided
to call it:
      smit-ah-field...
you know:
when people became
confused buying a bargain
of bulgarian beef,
when it was actually
romanian pork...

  but last time i checked...
what was illegal?
was the venue we spent
an hour in...
and i forgot to trim
my ***** hair,
and me all "embarrassed"...
decided to smooch
            for an hour.

**** me: at least some clear
boundaries...
   she tells you she's
s.t.d. checked...
you put on the ****-tracey
gimp latex tux...
   you start making
items of scent,
past the already applied
perfumes...
the hair has a different
signature to the skin,
  and all else...
        and... pure procreation...
nothing of a moral
question to hugging
babies: as much as i'd love
to hug babbies as petting
the ultimate autistic bonsai:
of the worth of cats...

women:
  an exasperating word...
akin to something
by tom waits: live...

which is why i don't understand
the whole jack the ripper
cult modus operandi of
sifting through the obvious...

(said in a hushed tone(:

     at least with a *******
i don't have to worry
about the clam-trap...
  clam-trap?
   tell you it's o.k. to rubber-off...
encouraging you:
it's on the pill...
   and then...
                     well... it's either
a lie or...
      it's a double lie...
  whatever it was, is,
or will forever be...

     i didn't break a single
english law
by visiting a *******...
she didn't either...
the act wasn't forbidden...
nuance...
   it's illegal
to run a brothel in england...
that's why...
all the prostitutes
of amsterdam...
appear to be self-employed...
the brothel is "bypassed"...
well...
it is, but it technically isn't...

now...
i rather prefer the "moral"
debate concerning prostitutes...
than the debate
concerning relationships
and unwanted
pregnancies...

  why complicate
this world with a compliment
of said question,
about...
   the attitudes
of free women of the west?
i almost would understand
being unable to pull out
a circumcised phallus
from a ******...
  but an uncircumcised phallus?

*****, please...
i know what an *******
feels like...
it's my *******...
pulled back...
constricting
the "sudden" burst
of "juice"...
   it's not a milli-second
timed event...
i don't need some
circumcised ego-tripper
to tell me
what...
   imitation circumcision
feels like...
and how *******
can be prevented to
claim "responsibility"...
  went to a *******...
performed oral ***
on her...
   and this is how that
"oration" translates into!

the instant, the instance, is that your body?

the clear cleansing storefront windows
ask for clarification.

is that your body, presently?
is that your body presentably?

just in that secular instant, again, over,
the body’s inquisition clarifies, asking,
requesting in a babel of foreign languages,

repeat after me!

each window pane that follows repeats the query,
the themes in each, tiny variations,
the variables of rhythm, timbre, harmony,
engine timing minute minutiae alterations,
in that passing milli-instant,
each a separate instance for each separate pane.

in every instance.   in every language.

the accusations tonality oscillates in wavelength pitch.
quest nonetheless similar,
     is that your body?

all the replies are mirrored reciprocal.
that was my past.
this my present.
the next, a future vision.

the here, the now, all of it, each a flashcard.

the insistence!

when your body falls finally upon
the sidewalks concrete filthy city Persian tapestry,
the shameful answer tastes always the same.

always the same.

What was the time when we started the evolution of ourselves ?
What was the time set when the first clock was built ?
Past is only an abyss overcomed ,
Passed and been through with our minds physically and mentally
And future a chasm to be magnetized into and dragged down in ; working and going so hand in hand that like writing this piece of verse being the present is being my future as well
The window of transition from present to future being so narrow it actually overlaps one another in ways
So thoughtful and ineffable
The present being me writing these lines and the future being the outcome the whole verse which is now in process while I write this
Only a thin line of perspective and time difference or backlog occurs between them
Keeping the both distinguished from
each other letting them mean what they truly attribute for
There are three abstracts working simultaneously -the past present and future
The cognition of the brain undergoing a change in every single milli - seconds ; a transition from its current state of mind , carrying the neural data of the past nostalgia into the future
Those 3 abstracts                                               Playing its game of mutation and novelty over mind and body ...
While in all this the soul is the one feeling the time .....

Please remember me
in this moment

as we gaze into
each other's eyes

whole solar systems
collapsing

in milli -
seconds

of doubt

a sweetness that
lingers on the lips

like sugar, that turns
to paste upon

the tongue when it
meets the moistness

of your mouth

I am not your
lullaby

nor your temptation
taken out of

time

I am just a girl
you loved once

not for a lifetime
nor an infinity

but just

in this moment

Cardiac arrest. Death of a milli second.
Passing through infinity
With diligent intelligence
The bodies militant.
Like America. And 911
It's an inside job.
Thats ******* evident
Did I rock your melon
Blame the president.
I had a change of.
Every second.
Until the heavens
Made me limitless
Now only God x
Can finish this

It's been over for a life time,
a life time of intrepid memories,
that I can explore no further.
It was wonderful and magical,
powerful and passionate,
bizarre and blinding,
it was the longest love I ever shared,
There were two of us that felt the same,
but love to him a heavy game.
it only lasted milli-seconds within eternities plan,
lost in a sprinkle of stardust,
and swallowed with our strawberries.
It's over now,
I'm very chilled,
chilled but fulfilled.
we reach the stars in different ways as we play on,
the dawning of another day.
(C) Livvi

You were just a dream,
I wasn’t allowed to keep,
like any unknown the odds were always 50/50.
but I knew the risk when I took that leap,

& it's not your fault nor is it mine,
it's just The Fault In Our Stars shout out to John Green,
Blame It On The Rain feeling as silly as Milli Vanilli,
feeling like everything's fake like you're only a screen,

& maybe that's why I feel so detached,
& why when you spill your heart out I don't say a thing,
you overreact & I don't even react,
because like they say life is but a dream,

though to be fair I'd say it's more of a nightmare,
because we get to see it all but can't keep a thing,
sleepwalking through this waking life,
where the loudest noises are mute & the silence screams,

& the truth is you seemed so lucid,
that I felt stupid for not being able keep you here,
& I'm not making excuses but the truth is,
I choose to lose everything including you that I hold dear,

which makes sense since you were just a dream,
that I wasn’t allowed to keep,
like any unknown the odds were always 50/50,
but I knew the risk when I took that leap...

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

new book 100% free here: www.scribd.com/document/388173677

In that moment,
I swear to God I couldn't stop my self from cursing.
It was just a *******
milli per second.
When you looked at me
on my eyes.
****.
That was a single word
that came from my mouth.
Your eyes are obviously
the most beautiful eyes that everyone is dying to have.
Babe, I'm ashamed.
That a pair of perfect eyes
like yours could look
at a pair of ugly eyes like mine.
If I could stop
the time from ticking, I would.
I could spend the rest
of my life in that moment.
I think you got a spell on me.
You hypnotized me.
But I'm not gonna complain.

I'm pretty sure I die with you every night. Miserable souls always seem to last the longest in this sent from hell world. Here comes the manslaughter, the impending doom of it all, the sideways games and glances that leaves my seat wet and my neck hungry for your hands, here comes the tragedies, mistaken suicidal attemptants at kisses that stream tripping in between sets and hollow stairs painted down my hips with the fire of you. Here comes the luster that doesn't lack. I think. Today would be a good day for everyone to disappear, including me, into you but you won't incline your hips into me 'cause last night I told you I once tried to **** a real good song so that I could own it's rights and lefts while spiraling into your lungs like a jail's black tongue. Here comes the poems and cults that Shakespeare shot down my inner thighs as you tattooed my lungs with the **** of your cigarettes. Here it all comes to ridicule me deeper into the middle of this crisis, here it all comes to take a toll on the planes of my mind as I shoot up high into sage tainted milli-universes. Here comes folded dollar bills cupped and lined against the tusks of my milky breath toned to the centerfold of your abdomen, here comes the part that hurts just a little bit more each time you come around. Here comes knowing you.

kim olduğumu
kendime ilk kez sorduğumda
tek gözlü karanlık bir odada
sırtımı sevgi dolu bir kaya'ya
dayamış olmanın verdiği huzurla
radyo'dan geçen şarkıların
plakalarını not ediyordum

biraz daha büyüdüğümde
mahalle çeşmesindeki
öfkeli kalabağın
al topuklarında köpüren
halı popülasyonunda
kovayla eve su taşımanın
bir kamu hizmeti
olduğu bilincine vardım
ki
şalvarı dizine dek sıyrılmış
antilop sürüsü
beni cezbetmeye başladığında
milli parkların en değerli
savunucusu olacağımı biliyordum

seraglio noktasındaki
haliç kıyısına kaydımı yaptırdığımda
ortaokul'da aldığım yara kabuğunun
kendiliğinden düştüğünü farkettim

tüm zamanların
en iyi ingilizce çevirmeni olabilmek
kırmızı başlıklı kıza
orman yolculuğunda eşlik etmekti
üç yıl sonunda formasyon
dezenformasyona dönüştüğünde
hipotenüs paramparça olmuş
ortak bölenlerin en büyüğü kader
farklı
fuckülte kapılarında
öpüşmeleri ertelemişti

yetişkin olduğumda
türk lirasının konvertibilite
durumları ve
aet'ye uyumsuzluk
sebeplerini araştırırken
onlarca tezgahta tecrübe
sahibi oldum

pera'nın
büyülü çiftliklerine meraklı
ineklerine müzükle terapi de
bulunma görevini üstlendiğimde
yeni bir kesiğe doğru
yola çıktığımı bilmiyor
sabahı şantözle
işkembecide karşılıyordum
fakat
aramızda ki bu tarifsiz nefasetin
kaşıkçı elması'yla uyumaktan
daha da
paha biçilmez olduğunu
evlendiğinde çok daha iyi
anladım

ve sonacıma
soluklanma gizeminin
sanatın diğer dallarında
daha yaşamsal bir döngüye
sahip olduğu fikri
daha cazip hale geldi

artık
biyolojik olarak bittiğimin
fizyolojik yaptırımlarına
yakınen şahit olduğumu
hissettiğim bugünlerde
bazı organları
özlemle anıyor
sadece birinin
verdiği dimdik morelle
pierre'den
haliçe
kahve ısmarlıyorum

The soft brush glides my aged papyrus skin, as it tickles every milli-metre of my being. A strange sensation never felt on my flat sheets, like a ******'s first touch.

I once stood beauty adorned, by the gaze of a naked eye, sheets of glory ablaze.
What is this foreign, flowing femme fatale?

My chest heaves and splutters, as it engulfs the expanse, of my silent pleas. I am glued steadfast to the only friend I've ever known.
My only escape, to peel my skin forward, and surely, and slowly perish into the timeless silence.

But suddenly like the dawn of day, I feel the glow of life reborn, as if a Phoenix rising from the ashes!

My weathered look, past and gone like a summers storm, as I stand ridges raised in my coloured coat