Art.Suvro.Ghosh

P2759 Kim is dim

Kim is dim, scam his schemes,

His balls heavy with dark desire.

Wants to fuck the rock, sucks putin's cock,

Habanero stuffed in his ass to fire his ire.

The Americans not afraid, they've said,

The south is enjoying a windfall.

Kim wants revenge, wants a monster strange,

Wants to give godzilla a booty call.

With AI and nukes, some lucky flukes,

Some friends he later can stab.

He plans to take over, one city at a time,

Starting with Timbuktu in rehab.

He shoots his nuclear shit,

But they pre-detonate in his ass.

Kim becomes a plume of soviet dust,

A gigantic, fat, bulbous, fart gas.

Koreans north and south shit in his statue's mouth,

The dick dictator is decidedly dead.

People pissing in their pants with joy,

Vomit cheer on each other's head.

North and south like brothers march,

Towards a future bright as you can say.

People build toilets in Kim's likeness,

He gets shit on every day.

I distinctly recall the moment when I felt that if I needed to understand the world, I wouldn't get very far by asking the adults around me, who gave vague, evasive, contradictory, and incomplete answers or eluded to magic, myths, and established hearsay. Why these questions didn't bring on an existential crisis posed quite a bit of consternation to my nerves as a rather thick-skulled child, nervous about and unsure of the world I inhabited. I failed to understand how you could have a working reality when nobody seemed to know how it worked.

The quandary that led me down the rabbit hole was about how a puddle of water disappeared without a trace. The sultry summer heat had something to do with it, but I didn't see the water boil away, even when I looked at it closely. Calcutta in the eighties (which hadn't been renamed yet) had an ostentatious daily crisis with power (which is still a struggle), and I sat there in the dim light of the flickering kerosene lamp, wondering why.

At that age, subjects taught in class were undifferentiated and often taught by one teacher. The science bits were in one book. This was 1987 specifically, a prehistoric age before the internet, making it quite difficult for the present generation to conceive. And in that science book, I saw an illustration showing how water in a container changes into water vapor all the time at the surface with air. Little black circles were densely packed in the section where it said it was water and far apart, with arrows attached to them, where it said it was vapor.

I had an "aha!" moment. I realized that not only was this explanation the best attempt at the question, but if I studied the right subjects, I would get a less contradictory universe to ponder, and an even less contradictory one after that, and so on. And I fell in love. I knew I had made friends with someone who'd always have an answer because something told me I'd always have a lot of questions. It was one of the most memorable moments of my life. Science is the only true friend I have.

I'm almost half a century old, and frittered my life in a country that doesn't value people for their merit. Right now, if India manages to get a group of sane people to lead who can throw out this garbage political bullshit and focus on the issues of the people, the country might have a fighting chance. Otherwise, with the existing politicians and their sycophants who live in their curated parallel universe of make-believe India, there's only dystopia for the laity.

Frankly I haven't seen mass psychosis like this, their hope hinging on some sort of a concocted holy hindu halcyon; I'm sure I'll be lynched by the mob as an atheist, when that's completed. Truth and honesty is anathema to most. The people can't choose if the choice is always looking back at some dramatized pristine myth. We need to look towards the future if any of our aspirations are to take off. It's only science that can save India or the world.

P2751

P2750

P2749 And fuck you too

I don't have to hide my feelings about fucks,

Or suck up to caramel cocks.

If I don't like you and you're an asshole,

I choke you with your socks.

I'm sorry I'm not polite,

It's just the hockey stick injury on my head.

I had bled out all common fucking sense,

Now I'm just bloody my eyes always red.

And fuck you too,

I hope your corpse rots in parts.

The shit that I think you are,

Will be flushed down,

In free municipal ferry carts.

P2748

P2747

P2746

P2745

P2744

P2743

P2742

P2741 Shit on my nose

Shit on my nose, yuk so gross,

An infidel did this to me.

He will rot in hell, no hello from god I tell,

I want to drown him in the sea.

But I sort of like the smell though,

Can't say I hate the taste.

Wonder what he ate last night,

What cheese stuck in this paste.

Cloud very loud, I'm not proud,

Need to hide or quickly run.

So much in my eyes,

I can't praise the glory of the sun.

Also the sense of direction is fucked,

Can't say I am in which axis or any.

Spasmodic pieces in my nostrils,

My mind vexed by issues so many.

O holy spirit, if you see fit,

Throw me a winning card.

Also I need your help,

To fuck this imbecile very hard.

Civilization fall to bits, people go to shits,

Entropy is a one way lane.

But, be that as it may, I am not gay,

Terrible is faith's constipated pain.

But poor hindu snot, this may is hot,

On the balcony his ass was spread wide.

I looked up, said what's up,

To his diarrheal stew on a gravity ride.

This is curious men without miss, with penis,

And a propensity to look at inaugural fair.

I shall not be a fool, control my drool,

When I see a hairy asshole in the air.

Plus too many of us, too few of them,

Bound to get shit on our face.

But before my mood murmurs low,

Must murder millions to avenge my disgrace.

P2740

P2739

P2738

P2737

P2736 Quite half complete

I'm quite half complete,

I've to rush to get back to be.

Time is short, slime bubbles of sort,

Floating in the morning sea.

Or maybe I'm a Boltzmann sketch,

I drift through space and time.

Every time I complete the sketch,

I solve for another prime.

What day is it, in what coordinates?

Surely off axis when I run.

The flying teapot was as nonplussed,

As I was nonchalant.

Then opened a hole within a goal,

A span of an atom now fanning light years.

Stretched specious space time,

Hold on to your rears.

I know I'm going to just be here, not somewhere,

And where exactly is where?

Recursion is often hard to break,

Without a hammer used with care.

Now that may be an idea,

I need my box of carpenter tools.

I'll saw the milky-way in half,

Andromeda always full of fools.

The birds in my head chirping songs of the dead,

Requiem to the mourning I yearn.

A feeble hope in madness remains,

Only when memories of self will burn.

P2736

P2732

P2731

P2730

P2729 It's all a fib

It's all a fib, ink from a nib, my dreams are weird obscene. Concentrated diagonally are concentric lines, the observer is not there in the scene.

The scale of what is there, here, or near are confabulations of convenience. Nature, or what stands in for it, in reality, it can never make any sense.

We only see or hear what is meant. By a past of needs, the sun, and the rain. Nothing is what it seems. A construct of our senses in our brain.

The moonlit night and the sonata. The depression unnerves my being. I sense the disquieting sound of madness.The onset of my manic fling.

In curves of up, in waves of down, I straddle the waves of the rough sea.The voices of reason are muted, by the cackling of cacophonous glee.

The shadows outgrow the stairs, the staircase climbs into the darkness of my mind. I've lost my moorings, I see myself going blind.

The walls cave in. I close my eyes, smiling. Misery loves my company. The rituals are rote; a lump in my throat, every crepitation is an assumed mutiny.

P2728

P2727

P2726 Come old friend

Come old friend we dance till the end,

(Well for you at least my dear).

It's been so long, (I'll later cut your schlong).

My eyes come full with (glycerine) tear.

We never sang a solo, lovely our peccadillo,

(hated everything you've ever done).

We thought we'll make a team, (scary scream),

Look how far you've come (scum).

Best friends forever, we part never, never,

(over your dead body I'll throw a party).

Sweet memories come flooding,

(I hear your wife's only thirty).

Prick

Fuck, what a heavy piece of shit,

Now I'll have to dig a hole of sin.

Then I'll throw the shit, in it.

And put hot cement to seal the friendship in.

Then his wealth is mine,

The fat fuck has pretty girls I go fuck.

I meet my new slave mistress,

I produce my cock for her to suck.

The holy gods clap, his boys I slap,

They are tasked to lick my asshole.

As near and dear to my friend,

I make the septic tank over the cement hole.

P2725 A traveler turd

A traveler turd, how absurd,

My shit has taken a life of its own.

I need to flee, sweet jesus please see,

At least I don't reap the evil I have sown.

My ass damp, asshole in fear cramp,

I pissed on the floor my yellow piss.

If I slip now I go to hell sallow,

Smell that tells I'm a man without a miss.

The devil has a dick that's very thick,

He may insist I put it in one of my holes.

It will be my mouth because my south,

Has resemblance to shit smeared assholes.

Holy father of banana bread I've said,

My throat is sensitive to pubic hair.

I'm sure I'll choke and puke my love of god,

In devil's dick with swagger and flair.

I'm full of shit, but no talent for it,

The gods moonwalk like michael so called jackson.

Because shit smeared in devil they feared,

My farts in hell now their national song.

P2724 I will rise again

I know my time is come,

It's a crime not to be dishonest.

It's important to be muddled and a middle,

A crime to stand out or be in any way best.

It's strange how much can be achieved,

By pretending to know.

India today if you aspire to be anyone,

Aspire to be a pimp or a hoe.

Just some arbitrary arbitrage is all,

That's really the career choice for most.

Cheating and deceit, respect and then shit,

Education standards like compost.

Degrees can now be bought,

Or the answers to all exams.

You can even pay for a proxy to take it,

Once released the river overflows all the dams.

But I'll come back once I'm killed,

In the morning of the next day.

I'll come back in haunting moments,

Of scared and furtive glares, too mute to say.

It's in the very dry blood,

That the lines will appear again.

The silence will be broken to ring in,

Hell and the reign of pain.

In recursion of fractal patterns,

The themes of horror revisit.

The canines bare in shreik filled air,

The reality turn to flashy and fleshy shit.

I hope the pain becomes permanent,

I hope everyone is sucked into a black hole.

I hope the future is dire and I wouldn't tire,

Until my specter avenges its tortured soul.

The ground you walk, now a chasm so deep, the twists of this planet rock will stop.

The blades of grass as sharp as broken promises, the hillside now littered with my eyes that follow.

The pitter-patter of rain all around will be screaming bloody blood

I'll come back as hungry four heads of a hound, careless hoof kicks of a hostile horse.

P2723 Dear Mom

Dear mom,

I just got a pet. It's a human. Very tame. A little lazy. Shits a lot, but they say it's better than the last one I was forced to eat. My last wife ran off with another crow. What a cocksucker. Well you can't trust the bitches anymore. Thank god the nest is still mine and I made omelette of the eggs.

Love ya.

Kakashi kakakoko.

P2722

P2721 Booger I dug

I'm in my prime, the word sinister rhymes,

I think I have a permanent post.

Anyone who thinks anyway otherwise,

May be tasting my after-breakfast compost.

Fuck the shrimps, mindless pimps,

A booger of carats twenty fucking four.

Now I go build a temple on the hill,

God can be such a liberal whore.

All schemes are scams, oh yes ma'am,

I have coffers to fill.

Overflowing abroad my loot, here I only poot,

My machinations dissenters kill.

I will will touch the loudest cloud to be proud,

Standing on the spire of the talking temple* top.

It will have lavatory in all religions,

Whores will be available like a truck stop.

Trolley full of fucks, lunch with holy ducks,

Random shit stew of pleasantries to relieve.

Gathering heads around, round and round,

Spinning fibs that no reasonable person believe.

Hence monologs for the stupid mangy dogs,

The fucks need regular brain washing I tell.

Plus honestly honest press I've made unholy,

Must lie through your teeth, or holy hindu hell.

Hole in my ass, no more just for shit and gas,

But now a shrine for the following to lick.

Fat and thin, out of the box and tin,

Tongues devout, wet, long and very slick.

Many unsung tongue, lick my daily dung,

They keep my anus spic and span.

When I leave for the Swiss hills,

I'll shoot my shit into their fan.

Sweet holy dreams and anal creams,

Super holy the houseful harem hole.

A perfect investment for the booger I dug,

I am such a happy puppy soul.

Anything holy I'm the osho, any real work, no show,

Except for inauguration and grandstands.

Cameras at every possible angle,

My bullshit no one understands.

Divide and rule the religious fool, I drool,

Who thought it would be so easy as this!

In this new building anywhere or in any mouth,

I can freely shit and by my lawful right, piss.

I get pissed off easily by bitches with balls,

Medals in boxing yet rapists they fear.

Men might rape, ministers must,

Why else would we want to be here.

Unparliamentary as hell, kingly anal rod for spell,

The nation is now super holy I say.

The parade of fools clapping with joy,

Undemocratic always now on your face shit spray.

Throngs of hollow shallow sallow, inconsequential alone,

Look up and see democratic pomp and show.

A seething hatred bubbles in this building,

How much more fucked, little they know.

Every vote I make the country a goat,

My moat: corrupt elections and ass licking media.

Subversion is easy, smile and be cheesy,

The voting machines have electronic diarrhea.

Shit in my spit, nimrod god a hit,

Even pinworms have become devout.

But I'm so happy with a nose full of gold,

Blame it on your bloody luck when in doubt.

*The Old French "parlement" originally meant a discussion or conversation, from "parler" (to speak).

Surrounded by narcissistic freaks,

Selfish and murderous kith and kin.

The world full of cheats and hypocrites,

They've outgrown the size of the decent.

Civilization is a figure of speech,

They fuck you after you're spent.

People horrid and cheap, creepy fucking heap,

Rainbows of shit and piss dancing around.

Hollow men with shallow souls,

In their head, sloshing shit to be found.

Many unpaid and hilarious hours,

Many strangers wearing friendly masks.

Just lecherous and larcenous crooks,

With empty farts in their flasks.

Oh what a beautiful day, this may,

May I get fucked bloody full.

Once dead at the post mortem,

Check for snakes in the stool.

I plan to meet the devil to say hi,

Hello to everyone in hell.

I'm sure I'll be as disgusting as,

What pleases them I can tell.

I'll be gang raped by gremlins,

Like goons here in the Indian goop.

Again at the autopsy table in hell,

Check for broken fists in the poop.

Finally in heaven I meet god,

A tale that turns out to be long stale.

An incestuous cloud I sit on leaks,

I fall back to my bed, undead and pale.

Then holy Sunday trolley, it's all a folly,

I'm such a naive simpleton.

I sniff to smell a friend's farts for fruits,

Instead I get drawn into more sweet con.

He proceeds to shit in my mouth,

I proceed to try to die again.

This time there's no dimensions left to go,

Exhausted I just complain.

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