Author Archives: montecyril

Jashmina, what do you think I am? I don’t care if evil Anthony Albanese and the Labor Government win for another five terms. I’m not playing the game any more. I am so very very very extremely exhausted! You can call me faggot if you please, I couldn’t be bothered!

My Dad and Jashmina are manipulating me to suit either Prakash Saint Paul’s aspirations or Anthony Albanese’s. My Dad and Jashmina don’t care about how tired and exhausted I am! They think I am only here to sacrifice for my enemies like Prakash Saint Paul and Anthony Albanese! The latter two are in cahoots with each other to defraud me and get the benefits of my immense sacrifice! They have no scruples! I don’t want anything more to have to do with either Prakash Saint Paul or Anthony Albanese! Period! I said earlier I have resigned from this rock and roll and that is the way it is! FUCK OFF Anthony Albanese!

I don’t dabble in Haiku, Senryu: A poem 

I don’t dabble in Haiku  Neither in Senryu  I thought Haiku was a flow in nature  A gentle autumnal Japanese garden  with a bridge across a tiny stream  a short bridge like a t(h)ree-lined verse!  I thought Senryu was human emotion,   action, a little trick of deliberate thought  Somebody telling you a little thing  about deeds and misdeeds being weapons!  HaikuContinue reading “I don’t dabble in Haiku, Senryu: A poem “

An unflattering, but wise letter to Trump: A poem 

Trump, do you know you made me feel numb  about you when you sought to use your power  against me. I know that all power is timebound,  and its monopoly fractures with age. There are  many who think they will never bear the consequences  of their actions. I have lived countless lives to know,  that contraptions disfigure in their own device.  Continue reading “An unflattering, but wise letter to Trump: A poem “

What is poetry? Is it skin-deep beauty?: A poem 

Can a poem be embellished after it is done?  There is always something left unsaid. Like the  grief of a dead lover, who did not utter the final  endearment, perhaps the final truth. Must I drop   the pen to the floor in rancour! Must finish be a soliloquy,  heard by me alone! I think, I must console on the fact  that those who chance toContinue reading “What is poetry? Is it skin-deep beauty?: A poem “

Waiting for singularity!: A poem 

This spirit spins on the event horizon’s claws  always escaping the blackholes imminent jaws!  Spacetime folds in a mesmerising warp;  even blue stars and red dwarfs!  Universes locked in a divine ribcage  running on the narrowest gauge  Motion has an infinite infinitesimal deadline  Even all the seeming chaos seems fine!  It is all, though, like a finite passage rite  For eternity, just an eyeball’s white  TheContinue reading “Waiting for singularity!: A poem “

What is the mystery of eternity?: A poem 

Darling, it is okay to dangle with an irate but gloomy thought!  It is okay to lose the battles that we fought!  So, our shadows still stand unharnessed before sunset  And, in the night, they are invisible but still adept!  We can be a cocoon, a hive, a womb of denial  The soul knows it isContinue reading “What is the mystery of eternity?: A poem “