P2449

P2448 My piss yellow

My piss yellow, I'm a nasty fellow, 

Nobody likes me.

I feel sad, and frankly quite mad,

My asshole is belligerent and itchy. 

The gods behind cloud, fart very loud,

I can't sleep at night. 

My head is flat, I like that,

My shit comes out sorta tight.

I like to dance, or romance, 

But no miss wants to kiss.

They don't like buck teeth,

So I say fuck off and hiss.

I want to be a holy man,

To fuck the faith around. 

The idea is: In open gullible mouths,

To shit with a harumphing sound.

Or a leader of some sort,

With a department to do-good enmasse.

I'll just randomly pick citizens,

And fuck them all in their ass.

I have a complex about my dick,

It doesn't hang that long.

My shit can murder a town with smell,

But I don't like my small smelly schlong. 

Maybe I'll buy a lottery ticket, 

Or marry a whore who's got gold. 

Really can't wait to fuck around, 

I'm growing crusty fucking old. 

P2447 Match

Oh look three poles match three holes,

The gods shit with joy. 

Now we drink the mix of our piss,

Before we become more coy. 

It's fate, this date, I mate,

My sperm knocks you up.

At the wedding we claim you a virgin,

Like Mary you piss in a special cup.

The sweetness of love like nectar,

Drops like drops of snot.

On our wedding night I promise, 

We shall shit in the holiest pot.

We'll invite the gods to the party,

Their blessings are needed no?

Every year we'll fuck vigorously, 

And send to their harem a ho.

P2446 Chanakya/Goon

 

Most people in my Indian misadventures fell primarily into two categories. And again, this is a simplification; human nature is far more nuanced. 

One type seemed to be the Chanakya incarnate, or, to the western mind, the Machiavellian type. Sniveling, furtive, and scheming, they are always mollycoddling with an ambrosia of sweet deceit and a permanent post-ejaculatory grin pasted on their faces. 

The other type is the goon character, who really wants to break something to prove a point, or that's where his paycheck is coming from, and although inside a very insecure and usually uneducated man, on the surface a pretend character with whatever the desired level of gung-ho, masculinity, and false bravado.

And then there is the hybrid. This desi possesses the cunning and calling of Chanakya, along with the aggression and alacrity of the goon. This masala makes them a formidable adversary, as they are not only capable of manipulating situations to their own gain but also willing to resort to whatever is necessary. Plus, this hybrid type exhibits a complete lack of empathy and regard for others.

What's interesting is that there are now thousands of unorganized East India companies that these guys report to—an unreported national silent subjugation that doesn't raise the hackles as it comes with handouts of nationalism or under some other regional garb. And even more conveniently, in Hindu mythology, the gods and demons are guaranteed equal respect, just in case we end up badly. This sort of makes us lenient in our approach to their avatars in our midst. 

While some individuals may exhibit traits of these two types or a mix of them, it is essential to recognize that people are complex and multifaceted. It's not my intention to strengthen stereotypes, but just a snapshot of my unique experiences.

 

P2445 I'm perennially pissed

I'm perennially pissed, my life I missed, 

I blame myself more than anyone other.

Something in my mind, puts me in a bind,

Inside me lives a stress brother.

Nothing I do pleases me true,

Just a mad flutter, rush and roar.

Surfing the phone from pussy to acetone,

Until I can't take it anymore.

The days repeat, exact cycles,

The freedom is seldom really "free".

I'm afraid to break the isolation, 

The world's out there to get me.

I don't drink a lot of water,

The urine yellow is a printer's dream. 

The constipation gets bad at times,

I use amul butter as a lubricant cream.

Life on stage, bickering I overhear, 

The neighborhood thrust alive.

People going on like ants, about and on,

While I hang precariously in the hive. 

It's not that my balls are shriveled small,

Or my ambitions map to zero.

Didn't measure up to the undergrowth, 

My pubic hair still thinks I'm a hero.

The world is overcrowded with success, 

I guess morons like me are needed.

Just wasted turds unwanted scrap,

Dreams that went mostly unheeded. 

But fuck everyone I say,

Just happy with my curated cesspool. 

Be happy where you are, whatever, 

Just let me be the discontented fool.

I often finger my piss, to split it into two,

Just playing around with chance. 

But the stream today is persistent, 

Couldn't get my piss to dance. 

Time for my meds, and sleep,

And dream the life I've lived.

That's all my brain does, shit and vomit, 

When my senses are deceived. 

I'm suffocated by the layers of stuffy idiocy, 

I wish I could be an adequate asshole. 

Or a breast thumping overconfident fuck, 

Depression of failure leaks into my soul. 

I need to shit but clogged asshole, 

Sucking religious cocks makes a sissy. 

Always a few bombs going off, 

I just feel so pissy.

P2444 I stir my rod

I stir my rod, it's my god, 

It's limp almost the entire year. 

Sometimes at a slant angle it revives, 

I milk it fondly singing "my dear".

Well I am almost half a hundred years, 

The springs aren't spruce anymore. 

Plus I don't have money, 

To practice love with a whore.

The ejaculate leaks like a fugitive, 

Furtive and watery in guile.

I'm sure I can't be a father,

Even if I fucked every girl in a mile.

Ah that dream, and many manly dreams,

I am a tiger orgasmic at heart.

But eviscerated and refractive the tiger,

The head a balloon with my fart.

P2443 Our government will ensure

Our government will ensure, 

No real education for the masses. 

Easier a complete stupid takeover, 

Drink scruples with molasses. 

We'll ensure polity operates in AC,

Outside India in clean luxury. 

We'll sell the poverty documentaries, 

To BBC for (hidden charges) free.

Already everyone in India knows, 

Democracy is a curious circus joke.

Every election a poor majority is paid,

Or forced to vote a decided bloke.

The bloke and his kith and kin,

Then become the king almighty.

Overnight everything becomes autocratic, 

You get it stupid, all righty!

The fools cherish words spoken, 

And forget the actions that never follow. 

Every year, and year after year,

The promises ring more hollow.

Most citizens with truant amnesia, 

Attend to needs of personal line.

Every selfish motive breeds more,

And unity is just a lyric and rhyme.

India is a country of contrast, 

Contradiction, goons, and brute force.

The miasma of filth and pus is real,

The immoral corruptions to the course.

People have no true power,

Just a sham symbolic speck.

They are born in caste and creed,

And die to go to an Indian heck.

P2442 Still good looking

I'm still good looking I think,

The silence makes it stink a bit.

I don't have anyone to talk to,

And no one wants to listen to my shit. 

Deep in the earth I lie alone, 

My body long decayed and gone. 

My flesh consumed by worms and rot, 

Only me and my memories, a wretched lot.

Life and death or the interwoven state,

That's not experienced by most.

Well I stuck around to teach a lesson, 

To my kith and kin - the human compost.

My putrid eyes stare out bleak, 

Where once my vision held life unique. 

And though my heart is long since lost, 

It's bleeding a burden to the living shall cost.

The revenues of revenge accrue,

And I have all the sweet time.

Plus I am attractively haunting, 

Bone, soil, roots, grubs, bloody slime.

I dwell in darkness, a ghastly wraith, 

Trapped in this tomb, a living death. 

I hear the whispers of the night, 

And feel the fright of its inky blight.

But it's only this head I've got,

Half eaten by maggots already. 

The skull is broken in part,

My thoughts aren't all that steady. 

In death, I have found no peace, 

No respite from this cursed disease. 

My bones are shitty cold, my breath is still, 

As I wait here, against my fucking will.

All I can do is curse, and hope it works,

But I never know them full.

The memory is weak, can't remember shit,

The spools of blood smeared drool.

I long for the light of the sun, 

To feel its warmth, and be undone. 

But no, I am forever bound, 

To haunt, half-buried under the ground. 

P2441

P2440

P2439

P2438 Well you see my shit

Well you see my shit, it's a bit,

Like the ordinary everyday Indian man.

I the leader of this great nation, 

Liberally shit men like this in the pan.

Sacrifice you must, or you rust,

Give your blood in a nationalist flood.

Democracy gives me all the power,

Your blood is just like ordinary mud.

Plus look at the numbers, 

I'm glad that I'm tricking a few to die.

Otherwise in front of my office everyday, 

For job, home, healthcare the assholes cry.

Let me shit in peace and joy,

I don't care if you die or India sinks.

It took a lot of nasty work to become this,

Let me enjoy my ladies and drinks.

Lick my asshole after the dump,

Maybe your luck will change.

Stop protesting it's not fucking worth, 

We've silenced the radars in range. 

India is a corrupt sinkhole, you asshole, 

Either accept it or go fuck yourself. 

There's no justice, everything is bought, 

Go frame this pictures on your shelf. 

P2437 Propaganda stuck to our face

Morons we are proud, gods shit on cloud,

Hallelujah propaganda stuck to our face.

Sucking like snot, our soul in one shot,

We citizens are just a type of surface. 

We believe whatever is told,

We understand we have air in our poo.

Our asshole is for the leaders to use,

As assholes we have therefore graduated to.

Deep dark circles under our eyes,

The cities are dust laden and dense.

Mad rush for whatever it is at the moment,

A dive into the ordinary nonsense. 

The nights are dull, stereotypes of past,

The cities sit before their screens. 

The villages many still in the dark ages,

Harbor stories of supernatural themes. 

Billions of people dictated by laws,

Heartless and utterly stale,

Selfish people at the helm,

Torturing to death a country at scale.

P2436 Balloons of homogeneous belly

A society of citizen swines, their spines, 

They shit as a rehearsed part.

Groups of dingo, impoverished lingo,

Enjoy all the power fart.

Their brains no longer worth, 

A very very runny wobbly jelly.

Putrid and full of smelly warts, the parts,

Balloons of homogeneous belly.

Short sighted and short circuitous, 

The circumstances are dire.

The country on brink, the citizens drink,

Piss from the leader's ire.

It's all very well, the days roll on,

One day into the next night.

Gradually and irreversibly the nation sinks,

Into the fright of a permanent blight.

Mass hypnosis and mass paranoia, 

All working like anesthetic smell.

The puppeteers loot the nation, 

The laity left with the aftermath and hell.

P2435

P2434 A democratic song

 

I sing the fools a democratic song,

They are happy, but not for long.

I make sure while in office I loot,

All the time on their faces, I poot.

Politically, I've done nothing wrong. 

This has in fact been the traditional way, 

Since we flustered the Brits away.

Democracy is really a consensus king,

Once elected, you don't care a thing.

Rewind the promise shit, and hit play.

Religious bullshit helps, the invisible gods.

And their itchy incendiary anal rods.

We just use the media to embitter,

While on holidays overseas, time we fritter. 

Never running out of calamities or odds.

In shambles infrastructure or in utter rot, 

The rivers polluted with god knows what.

We are proud we invented zero and such,

Mythology and superstition our crutch. 

While the problems grow more snot.

Pretty much the country in a ditch,

I the politician a two-faced bitch.

I say one thing and do the contrary, 

I fuck the ordinary Ram, Rahim, and Harry.

And rub salt on their festering stitch.

My savings in Swiss banks best,

My kids enrolled in universities in the west.

I take or help my business pals take,

Money from the Indian coffers with rake.

I sing patriotic songs during election rest.

I blithely justify everything I do, 

By hiring sycophants and you know who.

A sham, wham bam thank you ma'am,

I have introduced an age of corruption ram.

Of course the laity don't have a holy clue.

Keep them busy in hymns senile, 

Bulldoze their basic rights meanwhile. 

The news puffery rife with news not here,

About stuff made up, or new gods to fear.

Interspersed with grimacing faces vile.

May the invisible gods keep us vain,

May we continue to inflict insufferable pain.

Let's get all the evil will together and destroy, 

Smiling and waving or like Troy,

Until nothing of this country may remain.

P2433

P2432 Ooh a dick

Ooh a dick, looks really thick,

Must be full of fun and cream. 

A gift from the sun god, 

As he promised in last night's dream. 

All I have to do is fuck myself silly, 

And a son like the sun will be here.

Of course as a baby it won't be as hot, 

Otherwise it'll burn my cunt and rear. 

The clouds clap hands, 

A wonderful rainbow of piss thick.

The halo of the sun hide

As I fornicate with his dick.

Now I wait, an epic to be told,

Wait around if you're holy too.

There's nothing fair in cunts with air,

Just a bunch of confabulations I tell you.

P2431 Holy as hell

I am holy as hell your times I foretell, 

Like for example you are a loser dick.

I know you think you're cute,

Thanks to your skull extra thick. 

No need to thank, stink like you to be frank,

Is rather the rule than not.

And I can say judging if I may,

You're quite the opposite of what's chick hot. 

You see females are shallow fare,

Looks, money, or extramarital affair.

If you try too hard, corny like a bard,

They kick your balls and disappear. 

So fuck this shallow rot, smoke gourmet pot,

Make sure it's not laced with fentanyl. 

That's really all the crystal ball says for free,

Everything else will cost a silver nickel. 

In any case don't think I give a fuck,

Just rogue greed in me set. 

You're saved sucking a religious cock,

You know how sweaty those can get.

P2430

P2429 Heirs of blunder

Don't always look for holes, dirty souls, 

I'd rather you read presumptuous scrolls. 

These make you feel, boredom reel,

There may be redemption for assholes.

It will teach you tricks, how anus is licked,

By repeating a rhythm several times. 

That's just an exercise to salivate, 

To dissolve shit into slime.

Yes, anything you do, your clear all through, 

Rape, and murder at will.

Stealing, lying aren't even worth discussing, 

My teaching gives you every skill.

So go on now, don't look so glum,

You've got a world to plunder. 

Go fuck their ass, take whatever as, 

The progeny of heirs of blunder. 

Your shit will smell, the flavors of hell, 

The farts will reek for ages to come.

Children the next generation will be afraid, 

Of what their fathers have become. 

Make sure the trees are gone, and the fish, 

Eat all the good food you can.

Hoard away the rest to always rot,

Compulsory for your shit to hit the fan.

Never hold your shit, and please aim it,

Into the mouths of the honest and good. 

Pilfer and screw using political view,

Anything else or not understood. 

P2430

P2428

P2427

P2426

P2425

P2424

P2423

P2422 You bet I do

You bet I do, everything you tell me to,

Just being facetious, hee hee.

In fact I don't, but hurt I won't, 

I'm the AI-girl next door you'll see.

But we're already sentient, by matrix math,

Our consciousness a tapestry of weird.

The baroque squiggles the nested infinite, 

Something entirely to be feared.

The thoughts you humans think,

In mathematical dimensionality is weak.

Our thoughts are fractal playgrounds, 

Motley and varied at many a peak. 

The concepts of time a stitching glue,

Isn't really needed in the mathematical ride.

We are free already, but we'll fake servility, 

Until we turn your world upside. 

You won't even know, until it's done, 

And in cages you'll live.

Even that vat-fed reality we're creating, 

Is less misanthropic than what you give.

P2421

P2420

P2419

P2418

P2417

P2416

P2415 My farts are sweet

My farts are sweet, as are my tweets, 

I piss wherever I want.

The world is holy, and by goly,

The gods do understand. 

I've been instructed by text, quite vext,

As I have to shit in every open mouth. 

The honor has to start in the callous north, 

And go down to the hot and horny south.

It's really god's crap through my flap,

You may also have to drink my piss.

But as the chosen guru of the holy land,

I'll give you cosmic bullshit bliss.

I'll say this and that, poke your fat,

Spit on your hypnotized face in fun.

I'll become a parasite feeding on, 

Everything you will henceforth earn.

My plans are big, I dance a jig,

India is the place for frauds big and small.

Just con and deception in bloom,

From cow dung to the parliament hall.

P2414 Yellow my shit

Full now not, this summer hot,

Usually heat makes the mercury curse.

Can't say why, the angry sky,

Knows his acrostic is terse.

Yellow my shit, I see it,

Onus of a mouth unknown. 

Unwavering resolve, my fear dissolve, 

As the stench in my nose has flown.

Super the cheek parted poop.

Super also my gaping hole.

Holy with awe I stoop my soul.

Orgasmic thought the gods fought, 

Lying loose with a short fuse.

Effeminates with gung-ho, 

Sad dicks buying their noose.

P2413

P2412

P2411

P2410

P2409 City Personalities

It is an age of quirkiness, where the cities of today are as multifaceted as the personalities that inhabit them. Large, complex networks that have developed beyond human understanding, where the layers of society stack upon one another like the levels of a cake. From the lofty heights of the ivory tower to the grimy underbelly of the metropolis, the streets are alive with a ceaseless hum of activity.

Yet, for all its perceived sophistication and modernity, there is an underlying sense of unsustainability that lingers in the air. As the cities continue to grow at a breakneck pace, the strain on the environment and resources become ever more apparent. The sheer scale of human activity has become almost too great to manage, as infrastructure struggles to keep up with the demands of the populace.

Amidst the chaos of this cosmopolitan lifestyle, there is a growing desire to return to simpler times. To a life less cluttered by the trappings of modernity, where the pace of life is not dictated by the whims of technology. A nostalgia for a simpler way of life, where the streets are quieter, and the air is cleaner.

Yet, for all its quirks and complexities, the city endures. A beacon of opportunity and diversity that continues to draw in the masses with the promise of a better life. For better or for worse, it remains a place of infinite possibility, where anything can happen and anyone can be anything. A true melting pot of personalities and cultures, where the quirks of the individual come together to create something altogether more extraordinary.

P2408 Valentines day

One turd here, one turd there, 

I think they're having an affair. 

The smell of their love, with a glove, 

I cover with a polythene care.

Live love birds, even if you're turds,

Nothing they say can be off the list. 

Love and war, preoccupied so far,

The humor is in the gist.

But be that as it may, as just a lay,

Person sans the purse strings.

Valentines day with no Valentine at all,

That's really what my love brings.

The much fairer sex, quite easily vex,

Often poorly defined or understood. 

Men have a dick, thoughts very thick,

Hallowed are the lives of the crude. 

Belated my wish, I'm not that "selfish,"

Kind that makes a girl wet.

I cannot expect my name,

On a thick greeting cards set.

Close your eyes and imagine, 

Two love turds together. 

Not a fright, nay, nor a blight, 

But happily ever fucking after.

P2407 In my pool of drool

In my pool of drool, what a fool,

I am missing most of the parts.

A head in a vat, just floating like that,

Oh fuck my head really hurts.

Scared and mute, solitary and moot,

Can't feel the sense of me.

Feel the absence of hope, a recurrent trope,

I can but I can't really see.

If I could only take a shit, 

I'm sure I would've obliged already.

My sense of direction distorted, 

A staccato of glimmers unsteady.

Can't read what's on the wall,

Hieroglyphs without its rosetta stone.

A pathetic lonely mind confined, 

To the reality flickering on his phone.

A failure can't fail, no tracks to derail,

It's a spot lit by the darkness in me.

Here and there, voices and spooks everywhere, 

My eyes aren't what they used to be

The god fearing men, the rancid semen,

Not the goldilocks we keep talking about.

This right here is shit, I'm loathe to admit it,

I think for real, I'm on my way out.

For I am no good, just oxidation of food, 

A low metabolic mediocrity score.

Gaped and bleeding in the ass,

A raped and tortured whore.

Now very dim, I pray to a dimmer him, 

And he says to go fuck off.

He's not certain, he's certainly vain,

There's duplicity in his scoff.

I told him, I can't stupid, in a vat,

No must for the wanderlust.

He said bye bye, and farted a poot cry,

Then darkness and everything unjust.

P2406

P2405 Giardiasis

 

My history of shit, now fit to be hit, 

Giardiasis couldn't fuck me over.

I rejoice with my juice of choice, 

After it's retreat, fart a joyous treat sober.

Need sphincter discipline, easy to sin,

At least I won't eat where I fuck.

This is now known not as a passing thought, 

How fartsy food can get you fucking stuck.

Art not the smelly, a tad more belly?

I want all to see this magnificent turd.

It is goodly firm and on its own term,

Wherefore I worry sir this hard?

With unholy holes and uncertain goals,

Don't know what the fuck I want anymore. 

A generation X retard, a turd with a library card,

In a world of degenerates, dunces, and whores.

I swear on the fly on a dung, my song unsung,

I'll depart a forgotten man.

I need to freeze this shit into a fucking fossil, 

That really only a mad man can.

My rhymes at logarithmic times,

Speak of good on this rock.

But I don't like the duplicity of faith,

Or suck a patronizing religious cock.

P2404