Tag Archives: original

Let Me Count The Names

What’s the Crack? Shall I call it Quim?

Or does it answer to Minge? 

Do I dive head first into this Muff?

Slurping like a Honey Badger loving the stuff

Cup my hand round Rosy

Make myself at home in Coochy

Gently stroke the purring Pussy

Middle finger warm in moist Fanny

Spread the net to catch the slippery Fish

Open the Oyster and prepare the dish

Bon appetit Tuna Sandwich

Nibble and feel it twitch

Squeezebox, or Snatch, the Slit of sweet pain

Speak in tongues to the Lady who lives down the Lane

Nerve Centre? Pleasure Pod? Call it Clit

Open her Purse, withdraw and deposit

Dig in, dig in, penetrate the Open Wound

Treasure buried beneath the Fleshy Mound

Slip in, slip in, enter the Pearly Gates

Pleasure, come, satisfy your palates

Roll in the Mink of her hot Beaver

Release the musk of her sated Flower

Cupcake, shall I be even more blunt?

Allow me to sing in praise of your Cunt

Some call it Heaven, others Eden

I love to plant the Lady Garden

Along the Tunnel to the back of the Cave

Men desire to be buried in this Grave …

One man not fixated with the junction of your thighs

Nor obsessed with turning on your sighs 

I want to give the truth to all the lies

I love to watch the moonlight dancing in your eyes.

( c) Satori Publishing, 2020.

Empty Sky

What can I leave you?
Now that you don’t want me to stay
What can I give you?
Something that you won’t throw away
Now that you don’t want me or my love
Nothing left, I point to the sky above

Use the empty sky as a blank canvas
I know you can paint a masterpiece
I have faith in your gifts, I confess
One day we will both find peace
I give you more than just an empty sky
One thing to remember each other by

Paint fluffy white clouds floating in blue
Wave your hand to set off a gentle breeze
Paint birds on the wing, singing in praise of you
Sunshine yellow, the whole rainbow, pretty please
Hang the moon and stars where you will
My god, it is your empty sky to fill

I will raise my hands high to touch
The caress of your breeze, your sun on my face
Raise my hands when I miss you too much
Bless your moon glowing on my dark space
I gave you an empty sky pole to pole
You have filled it with your beautiful soul

Now that I am on the other side of the world
I too will stand under that same sky
Whenever I think of my beautiful, baby girl
Every day and night, to remember you by
I cannot look into your wonderful eyes
But I can look up at your wondrous sky.

(c) Satori Publishing, 2020.

Silence

Silence has been the biggest curse of my life
Thoughts not given voice, constantly repressed
Emotions never shown, or simply expressed
Silence cuts deeper than any butcher knife.

(c) Satori Publishing, 2020.

Shudra

Little Shoodra whispered : Mr President, please
Keep it under your wig, but put the feelers out
Ask, hush-hush, if the Pak really want peace
Sit round a table, negotiate, shuffle things about

Bad Haircut let the cat out of the bag
Slip of the tongue, or a deliberate leak?
Most Powerful Tan in the World, willing to blag
To mediate, to listen to each side squeak

Strategic partner, who will generate maximum profit
Fight our proxy wars, destabilise, and police the region
Milk the sacred cow, and leave behind a sack of shit
Our credentials without a doubt, our motives beyond question

Cat out of the bag, the dung hit the fan
Splatter, splatter … the parliament was in uproar
“ Shoodra, walk your peachy ass here, pronto, and explain
Underhand wheeling-dealing, and bending over like a whore ”.

Silence … silence … running around like a headless chicken
“ Save me, save me, even I cannot handle a knob this big
Save my creamy life, please, my sphincter is panic-stricken ”.
Kautilya’s student picked up a shovel and began to dig

Divert and rule, works without fail to bamboozle
Our election-winning strategy is to incite the mob
Gas cylinders, petrol, pour hate through the nozzle
Targeting the scapegoat Muslim always does the job

Remove the Three-Seventy fig leaf, bare our sharp teeth
Send in extra troops to make a total of nine hundred thousand
Smother the Kashmiris, they must ask permission to breathe
Cut off the internet, every lifeline, every right to their own land

Go out there and flex your fifty-six inch chest
Make flowery speeches, threaten the Pak with total war
Buy Kashmiri land, marry white Kashmiri girls, we are blest
Hindutva rule by any means, all is fair in love and war

‘ Bollywood loves Israel, and Israel loves Bollywood ‘
You love Hitler, you love Mussolini, you practise fascism
Israeli weapons, training, role model, business is good
Ask the Israelis if worshiping Hitler counts as anti-semitism?

Money is yahweh, anything, anyone can be bought and sold
Palestine, the Middle East, Kashmir, all are Muslim
Join forces with the Nazi Hindoo, sell the template, solid gold
Wherever you find a Muslim, do everything to screw him

Little Shoodra, you got your frilly knickers in a twist
Wear a sari in public like you do behind closed doors
Designer clothes, spruced up to the hilt, love your shopping list
Cameras, flashing lights, you love to be on all fours

You spread lies, you spread hate, you spread violence
Fifty-six is your IQ, fifty-six inches is your height
Be man enough to admit you spread the vaseline
Come out of the closet, step naked into the light

Those closest to the ground ache to reach up for the sky
Little Shoodra, you are there to serve the three guys above you
You hate the fact you are born low and have to kiss so high
The Dalit grabbing at your heels to constantly remind you

That’s why you strangle the foreign leaders in a Magic Huggy
“ Love me! Love me! I am your equal in every way ”.
Greasy wog, oiled up, curry breath, repulsively smelly
They cringe, hold their noses, wishing they could run away

Cow slaughter is wrong but human lynching is alright
Israeli inspired concentration camps to exterminate the poor
The weak, disenfranchised, the Darkies, all are in your sight
The flames will not douse no matter how much water you pour

Removing Three-Seventy now applies to each and every state
Trying to be too clever, numbskull, you have set in motion
( Sieg Heil, Fuhrer, you too have ended up in a bunker of hate )
A chain of events, a chainsaw, that will slice up the nation

No matter how many times you are ‘ reincarnated ‘
Trader? No. Warrior? No. You will NEVER be a Brahmin
Your past, present, and future are done and dusted
Shudra, brew a cup of tea, and drink to the hole you are in.

(c) Satori Publishing, 2020.

Read Your Job Description

Read your job description :
Co-ordinate various departments to run smoothly
Collect taxes and decide which percentages to allocate
It is not rocket science, it is not charity
But you still fail to do that honestly
I pay you tax, and ask you to be fair
You make speeches, blatant lies, all your policies
Bear witness to the fact you do not care
Slow turning of the screw you call austerity

The lower class, the weak, the disabled are hammered
Your own kind are given even more toys
You spout vomit, and spin the truth for your profit
Shove a plug in it, read your job description
I pay you tax, to make your job easier
Create an environment for the economy to flourish
Create jobs so people can make an honest living
Provide for their families, and pay you more tax

Take a step back, read your job description
Do not tell us there are no more funds, your hands are tied
Defence, arm sales, national interest, national values
National diarrhoea, you want to stride the international stage
Pie in the sky for a jumped-up jerk-off
Office-wallah wannabe superstar who cannot act, sing, or dance
Go into politics — cameras, lights, flowery dialogue
No action, just words, lie after lie, to break the spirit

You little shit, it is not about your ‘legacy’
You are a pigme who breaks wind for a living
You stink to high heaven, pure and simple, there is no denying
Stick to the basics, read your job description;
Who do you think comes first? Me or you?
What’s more important? Your snowflake schemes?
Or me working, putting food on the table, taking care of my family
Raising my children, making possible all their dreams?
Get the picture? Or do you only get painting by numbers?

You are not qualified to make decisions on my life
You are not authorised to decide without my permission
I did not vote you in to misuse my tax money
Your job is limited to provide me with services I pay for
I voted you in to delegate certain tasks to you
Do not do me any favours, read your job description
I pay taxes left, right, centre, I cannot move
Without paying a tax, in return I want to remind you
( You seem to forget on a regular basis, or you fail
To even understand ) read your job description

Your pea brain finds it too hard to comprehend?
When I turn the tap I want water to flow
When I flick the switch I want the light on
When I turn on the gas to cook, turn on the power
To heat my home, run my gadgets — I pay bills
Make sure the road is smooth when I drive
Make sure the traffic lights function correctly
Make sure the schools, hospitals, welfare, are up to standard
The refuse collection, fire service, the police — I pay tax

Your pee brain finds it too hard to understand?
Make sure the shops are fully stocked with goodies
Make sure there is sport, drama, other nonsense to entertain
Keep me distracted, happy, well-fed, warm and comfortable
Your pot belly leads the way, read your job description

It is not about you or your legacy — it is my money
You have not reached the pinnacle of anything
You are only there to provide me with a service
Stroke me, soft soap to satisfy, I pay you tax
It is NOT you, it is all about ME
You are a public servant
I am the public, you are my servant
Do your frigging job — SERVE ME!!
Pigmy, read your job description
Or I will vote you OUT.

(c) Satori Publishing, 2020.

I Try Not To

I try not to think of you
It hurts too much, the pain too hard to bear
I try not to think of you
In my heart I know, you do not care

The thought I cannot shake off
My weakness is the mistake that will cost
I am no longer worthy of your love
Pay the price, all is lost, all is lost

In the ash still are warm memories of you
I am living dead without you
My heart signals my mind to think of you
I try not to.

(c) Satori Publishing,2019.

Jihad Personal

Jihad personal a struggle against worldly temptations
Jihad personal a discipline to strengthen your weakness

The one lesson learned from times of yore
If you want peace — prepare for war

Jihad personal prepares you against the enemy’s attack
Jihad personal trains you to defend by fighting back

Jihad personal prevents you from attacking without reason
Jihad personal prevents you from launching an invasion

Jihad personal studies hard to root out ignorance
Jihad personal trains hard to branch out radiance

Jihad personal, in spite of the fools, is not a political tool
Jihad personal, fully understood, the best qualified school.

(c) Satori Publishing, 2019.

Birth Right

Fight the good fight till the last breath
If you ever lose the ability to create
That paralysing block will seal your fate
The worst kind of torture — a living death.

(c) Satori Publishing, 2019.