Gangland

Sharpened knives and pieces of wood
Weapons ready for the gangland fight
Fractured bones and open wounds
The war has begun with no end in sight

Baseball bats and pieces of brick
Weapons ready for the warfare fight
Busted faces and shattered skulls
The war is full of malice and spite

This is gangland warfare
A rampage through Hell
This is the badland nightmare
Where all the tainted dwell

Oh! Dear Tanya!

Tanya you do allure
I shall return
Surely for some more
What?
Clues of course

Where in this ocean of time
Can a soul searcher find?
A friend of thy kind,
In the vastness of the wilderness
They say it’s like eternity
I call it the trinity
Of
Life, body and soul,
Where we all strive
To become one whole

everything comes down
to a few moments
of time
in life

The hunter is so very stealthy
( to hunt a grizzly, he must be wealthy )
in the thick Alaskan brush
hoping for an adrenal rush

Quarry was first spotted yesterday
on river's shore a mile away
gorging on the spawned-out fish
a glutton for this yearly dish

Laying out a careful stalk
on a topo map with thin white chalk
he studies the big bear all day
imagines taking this great prey

VISIONS
(A Journey in Three Acts)

Act-1: The Leaving

To the land of my fathers I now must return:
You know, it’s not that I care to roam.
Leaving you here, by your wheel and your urn-
Leaving love, leaving life, leaving home…
Yet, as evening must follow the morn,
All those visions, once bright, are now gone;
And the dim light of dusk is now turning to dark,
Yet I know that I must carry on-
I must carry on…

Act-2: The Realisation

sunset came now i see myself
sitting on the grasslands facing the river,
i passed through years and made it here
no challenges left - i miss my Mother.

i started my life with nothing but dust,
and have reached my dreams beyond heaven,
the world showered the gifts i now own
i looked back my life and saw... Happiness.

`

Tendril wafted dunes
of barren sands waffle,
swirl across mile
upon mile in every direction-
your face appears a horizon away,
there is little comfort found
in accompanying echoes.

Drifting sticks
wail in the pitched wind,
stretched on distant recollection-
stylus of the scribe named Regret;
each flurrying breeze
turns a new page,
taking with it freshly shed tears.

John Falcon Who?
Courtesy
Inspiration the most
Arrogant one!

It’s not the length
That matters,
It’s the strength
The guy as u says
Is a 13.5 incher?
Even in flaccid state,
His would be much bigger,
Than many in their erect posture,

So how will they feel?
As you say,
He is also gay
And
Many guys as well as women
Will run away

Elephants have four feet long
Just by the way
And
They guy sexes only once in a way.

Ball breaker , heart taker
Urban slut, fuck that

Man eater, Micky taker,
Should know her place.
Hell no.

Foul mouth, hardened
Bitch, slag , bites back
Revenge, on the attack.

To all those who 
Attempt to label
Her fuck that

Rise up from shattering
muse of future once denied,
for in the promises of hopeful climes
only strength of will shall claim demise
of vanquished dreams that halt the stride
of life
across abyss of suffering.

Reach out with sweeping
hand erasing past that yawns so wide,
for in the grime of relished crime
only blessed rise of cleansing time
defeats the constant pouring tide
of hate
across barreness of blaming.