Curses and Verses


Saturday, October 02, 2004
India Today

The world's biggest Demoncracy
Lives up to its name
Rabid Bi Rabbi,
Wins the proxy election.

The tables have finally turned,
I hear the football team cheer on,
As the Cheer-Leader takes centerstage
Flashing her ample bosom.

Blatant sexual manipulation,
Double entendre and innuendo rule supreme,
Yet we remain in denial,
Of our subconscious sickness of mind.

Oh, great Jah, what mockery is this?
The Newspapers are Refuse-papers
Propagators of cowardice, propaganda, and perversion
Its the Day of the Tabloid.

Newsmakers are drugged socialites,
Divorces are fashionable,
You say the West is morally corrupt,
Pelting stones from your glass houses.

The Olympic Torch bearers are movie stars,
They sell more bottles of Cola.
The sidelined sportsperson struggles for recognition,
Doping in hope of garnering fortune leads to a ban, not fame.

The communists are closet capitalists,
The capitalists are black marketeers,
There is economic growth
And our black economy is booming.

The imbecile is applauded,
For plagiarized intellectualism.
Who else would these monkeys commend?
The brain now resides in the land of the Setting Sun.

Globalization sustains us,
Our status and future sealed as genetic clerks.
The masses were deceived,
By the puppeteered Guardian Angel.

These Afro-haired gurus,
Perpetrators of fake miracles,
Their gargantuan misdeeds ignored,
For salvation of the financial kind.

Political and film dynasties
Are the new classless royalty.
This all-pervasive nepotism,
Will soon engulf the corporate world.

Yuppies will be Secretary-controlled Puppies,
Who weren't even toilet-trained,
The economy runs on B-School graduates,
Who failed high school mathematics.

Oil Sheikhs move to milk,
Stirring the dairy industry
The cash-cow is the agriculturist,
Milk him dry, and save the cow.

For if the cow dies,
What will populate your streets?
Dinky-sized Suzukis...
They're not really Indian you see.

The rich get richer
Corporate Czars control the country,
Bolshois don't exist in India,
An uprising is a foregone alternative.

Because we're Indian,
And we're best off whining
Or living in delusional grandeur,
While the world sniggers at our ignorance.

One billion cowards,
Would surely equal one hero?
But we're Gandhian cowards
Exceptions to the case.

And I remain under the Indian Ocean
Elusive Narwhal-like being.
Oh Jules Verne, turn in your grave,
Disney destroyed Nemo's legacy in the name of money.



Friday, May 21, 2004
warped*hitman

ego tripping narcissist
isn't this a masterpiece?
a painted facade of modesty,
blurred by my self deprecatory monologue.
why are you joyous?
self-deprecation is not an admission of inferiority
i have ambushed you again.
check-mate.

plagiarizing poet-laureate,
have you no shame?
confess to your audience,
your lack of originality
i might not forgive,
but i might be gentler,
with my katana.
swish.


Wednesday, January 14, 2004
Vodka and the Supreme Phallic Folly.

Cheesy digitronics collapsed under zero gravity,
Doomed mission to the Moon,
Alcoholic cosmonaut Smirnoff,
Dejectedly ejected from his capsule.

This lunar capsule capsized,
Into the polluted blue ocean.
So I swum across to Antarctica,
Where the chill froze my semen.

Seamen tried to melt my reproductory fluid,
Penile frostbite meant painless castration.
This form of Phantom Limb Syndrome,
Is countered with a prosthetic weiner.

Whining that the pain was unbearable,
I bribed a Penguin to perform Euthanasia on me,
Doused in Russian vodka,
My body set ablaze by a bird.

Immolation is purification.
I have attained Moksha,
Hindu last rites performed to Vedic detail,
I am a penguin called Jack Kevorkian.




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