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Hey Jashmina, don’t try to solicit my sympathy for any one who doesn’t deserve it! I’ve always done my duty, that’s more than anyone can ask for from me! Do you think I believe in your bullshit that your evil Dada (Prakash Saint Paul) is going. I know he is so desperate he will never go! He will only go if he succeeds in hijacking all my armies to leave me with no option but to repose with my enemies for eternity! Shame on him! He only thinks about his selfish, greedy, treacherous self and his brothers and sisters and their families, who ate everybody’s money!

Hey Jashmina, how much relentless treachery do I cop from Prakash Saint Paul, and the unbearable torture therefrom? Did anybody think about me, for fear of him? Do I not know he claimed the vicinity around my house, so, every time I step out he gets the advantage? Do you think Jashmina, I am here only to cop the treachery of my enemies, and self-destructing without any thought or respect for myself, and being confounded that even my loyalties are used to checkmate me? Do I have no right to protect myself from Prakash Saint Paul’s evil that desires to consume me? And do I have no right to entertain the justified urge to fling Prakash Saint Paul out of the universe, once and for all?

Hey Nietzsche, we just don’t only share aphorisms of beliefs…: A poem 

Hey, Nietzsche! We just don’t share aphorisms of belief,  we share a profound understanding of the truth!  Unlike you, what I say has never been heard!  But like you I have been terribly maligned!  We can say that the lie has outgrown us all  It is so tall that it no longer can be beheaded  And you know the imposters would rather have usContinue reading “Hey Nietzsche, we just don’t only share aphorisms of beliefs…: A poem “

Pluto is a planet. Your title of Planet Nine for the undiscovered planet, Nibiru, is a misnomer! Hey Albanese, don’t try going morphing and bodygrabbing any more, you will only end up on the wrong street! Hahahahahaha! Jump into your own cavernous mouth and repose in your flaccid shapeless neck!

How do we know where we should go?: A poem 

You know the rains keep coming!  Do they bring us relief?  Do they wash off all the dark prevalent?  Or leave our cities feeling like musty ghettos?  And our homes like gutters we should only squirm in?  Do we feel the filth even after becoming squeaky clean?  And even when the season changes,  we are left with fork-tongues leaders,  who wouldn’t put their veracityContinue reading “How do we know where we should go?: A poem “

The so-called Planet Nine is the deep sea fishy Nibiru, where the criminals Prakash Saint Paul and Anthony Albanese belong. The fishy deep sea has given them the illegitimate privilege to conspire against and victimise everything else, to morph into everything else and bodygrab everything else. So much so, they alter preordained dimensions to suit their own evil benefit! Which righteous leader or entity has had any chance with Prakash Saint Paul and Anthony Albanese beleaguering them. There is nothing Soorya or anything else about Prakash Saint Paul but the evil fishy deep sea that he always clandestinely vindicates by morphing into everything else! Did not Prakash Saint Paul and the evil deep sea Nibiru (fish/sharks) destroy everything I constructed in this solar system, including life on Mars! The gall of that Prakash Saint Paul to morph into everything else, because of the helplessness of others!

My duty and my unforgiveness: A poem 

(Does Albanese think I have no right to be honest with myself, that if I express the truth, it is demeaned as crying and taken advantage of as my weakness by him! Shame! Shame!… And should I choose to implicate that evil morpher Prakash Saint Paul manipulating every thing I think, say, and do to suit his convenience and lease of life, to aContinue reading “My duty and my unforgiveness: A poem “

Mother, do we choose that we have chosen and are chosen?: A poem 

Mother do we rue that the bird of destiny  is coming too late, that it is no shortcut to fate?  That there can’t be reason in so many  wasted seasons? If only meagre harvests  can be called a taste of success? But I  do not regret these furlongs upon furlongs.  As if you can call the tests of time, our exercise  of profound strength. We can still be children, young and  Continue reading “Mother, do we choose that we have chosen and are chosen?: A poem “