The First Man walked out of Africa
And spread out all over the world
From the black, to the brown, to the yellow, to the white
And every shade in between
Evolved and adapted to fit in;
The White man got in his boat
And sailed all around the world
Instead of retracing his footsteps, the path of his flight
He thought he discovered – what was already there
The first this, the first that – what was always there.
(c) Satori Publishing, 2013.
The flotsam and jetsam
No concept of Eternity
Fertilizer – forget them
They are history
Time does not care
For Mediocrity
Strip her bare
Conquer History
My name, my name
There is the Victory
The eternal flame
I am History.
(c) Satori Publishing, 2013.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Seven, hollow-point, in the head
Just to be sure he is dead
Bang!
One in the shoulder
Trained by Israeli instructor
Bing! Bing! Bing!
Three, point blank, miss
Next time, more practise
Ooops!
Are you kidding me?!
But he looked like a Paki!!
Whoops!
Kill a Paki, send out a message
Dickhead, will open her passage
Bling! Bling!
Liar One, Liar Two, ham acting twin
Soap stars, both planning to cash in
Sing! Sing!
A verse so Free, a chorus so Democratic
Oil, gas, heroin –- it’s a box-office hit!
(c) Satori Publishing, 2013.
It is easy to think (talk to yourself), be part of the herd
To stop thinking, to let Subconscious take over, that is hard
“Thinking, thinking this, thinking that, thinking fills up the slots
Thinking, thinking moves me forward, thinking joins up the dots
Thinking is safe and secure, thinking is warm and comfortable
Thinking keeps the beast at bay, deep in the darkest jungle
Without thinking I do not exist, my heart will stop without thinking
Slipping sliding, treading water, without thinking I would start sinking”
You may think that you are thinking, but your ‘thinking’
Slows down, clogs up, obstructs the Subconscious
The endless chatter, the mindless natter, the pointless patter
Hold thought and observe –- the only things that matter
To stop thinking -– most people will not even understand
So simple, here and now, let go, hold, be in command
Do not strain to actually stop thinking
Fully aware try to put thought on Hold
Hold your thought the way you hold your breath
Hold the meaning of life, let go of mindless death
Be alone (not lonely), silence the only sound
Watch yourself, in relation, to all around
Einstein did not waste his time thinking
He saw himself riding a beam of light
Stay aside, give free rein, enjoy the ride
Subconscious is like lightning, it is Light
Hold conscious thought, as a mirror
Watch Subconscious, see yourself shine
Kings (of banking, industry, military) do not have a clue
Hold thought and observe -– no one compares with You
You have a treasure beyond measure, nothing less
If it is voiceless, if it is choiceless, it is priceless
Be rich beyond your wildest dreams, not the poorest of the poor
Do not think –- subconsciously ALL thought will be yours.
(c) Satori Publishing,2013.
The eye that sees all
But to Self is blind —
Hold your Thought
The way you
Hold your breath
Watch your mind
Watching all
Being watched:
The Eye that watches itSelf
As it sees all.
(c) Satori Publishing, 2013.
When every nerve is
Screaming for you to stop
Just remember this
A flop? Or cream of the crop?
Bite the bullet
First or last breath
Fight the limit
Your life – or death!
(c) Satori Publishing, 2013.
In the bathroom
In the bedroom
In my room
Private …
I create, I write
A product, a market
A customer – take it
To your room
Private ….
(c) Satori Publishing, 2013.
Be an Artist
Be a god
Create your own world
Create your own creatures
Be a god
Be an Artist.
(c) Satori Publishing, 2013.
The mother of the future king screwing around with Muslims
The mother of the future king being cocked by a Muslim
The mother of the future king sucking the circumcised knob of a Muslim
The mother of the future king marrying a fucking Muslim
The mother of the future king having the babies of a Muslim
The future king having half-brothers and sisters that are Muslim
The future : half-breed Pakis drinking tea at the Garden Party
The future : half-breed Pakis waving to our people from The Balcony
How can we stand by and let that happen?
How can we let Her House win in the long run?
How can we just hand over the loot of generations?
Then watch her draw Her Line in another direction?
How can we stand by and let that happen?
Nightmare : she gloats with power once her son is on the throne
Dream : we mourn over her coffin once we have cut her down
But how? How? Without a hint, a whiff, a whisper?
Above all suspicion, in plain view, not one pointing finger
Do it before she marries a camel-shagging sand-nigger Muslim
( At least the Bastard ginger is a genuine White fake )
Do it before she excretes a jiggaboo, or converts to Islam
Someone must royally grease the brakes
In the end she will be remembered for wearing a dress
She lived splashed by the Press and she will die flashed by the ‘Press’
To the Tower — No — take the traitor to the Tunnel …
( While the birth mother called her a paki-loving whore )
The death mother steered her towards the lucky 13th pillar
“Powers at work about which we have no knowledge”
Medics worked for forty minutes to doctor the carnage
Our ‘Man at the Scene’ scratched on her tomb
“She was not pregnant — I looked into her womb”
The fucking Pakis will be buried at her funeral
The rest will drive taxis, and pay us tax
We will wait for public opinion to relax
Her Golden Boy will be our crowning jewel
The Firm will go back to Business As Usual …
(c) Satori Publishing, 2013.
Hold Conscious Thought the way you hold your breath
Do not think – hold still – let go
Subconscious will begin to flow
From the sidelines watch Genius play the length and breadth.
(c) Satori Publishing, 2013.
Who knows England who only England knows?
Her highest mountain to me is a puny hill
Her weather? When it doesn’t rain it snows
And the English are wetter and colder still;
Till I saw you, Kashmir, I was blind
Love at second sight? I had forgotten the first
I never realized what I had left behind
My eyes drank you with an unquenchable thirst;
How can I stay in England now?
My job keeps me from the one for whom I yearn
Everything here seems to be empty somehow
Kashmir, I work for the day I can return;
Fly away forever from English bigotry and toil
I will never be content, or ever be happier,
Till the wheels of my jet finally kiss your soil
My beautiful, my own Kashmir.
(c) Satori Publishing, 2013.
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