Getting on your nerves

This is too much, and that was out of line,

Some people get on your nerves

Like a LoL cat playing with twine


Manipulating perception, you say is okay

Disregarding your intelligence is not

Relentless selling crapola in turf wars fiercely fought.


Brave new world has all kinds of fair game

The world was always a stage

But with so many actors things wont remain the same


Enhanced volatility Higher risks greater rewards

Loud is the applause when you make the keynote

Louder will the boos when proud men fall.


Lions hunt better but hyenas feed better

because hyenas are better team players you see

Bearing agony of uncertainty, to succeed is ecstasy


Relax Rewind Recalibrate and Pause

Total up your material gains

Ignore your conscience costs


Snap and turn, go back to your comfort zone

Stories sell better

Poetry is a drone


Normal is Boring

Normal is Boring

We must all innovate

If we cant create something new

Rewind, Rechurn , Regurgitate


Spawn some spin

Jingle some buzz and hype

We fight with the weapons the Lord gave us

Our fingers rapidly type


Till we move to read to scavenge

Pluck once more some idea from obscurity

Can not beat them so join them

Cajole our creative insecurity


We do influence swaps

Trade favor in a game

The more things we say have changed

The harder we try to make sure they remain the same


Normal is boring yet undeniable

Bell Shaped curve pretty reliable

Pause and think breathe and blink

Gasp and swallow the daily load to drink


Mundane and boring

Reminiscently storing

Differentiating for the sake of

Creating a better mouse trap someday

Today we innovate Tomorrow we fade away




Art by

Preparing for the Game

Cold war europe military map sv
Image via Wikipedia

My eyes are dry But my palms are wet

Dampened now By the cold cold sweat

My temples throb Lips start to twitch

Just stay cool I chant the cliche


Fear takes hold  My ears ring with buzzing sound

Legs start to shake But I manage to hold my ground

For as I enter This colossal game

I reflect after this Nothing will remain the same


On the day of reckoning Men shine apart from the boys

And from the manifold sorrows Seize their respective joys


Where I will end up I pause to think While my eyes stare empty Forgotten to blink
I may win I may lose a few important still is to enjoy it too
the playing of the game between me and you



Apres la nuit

Devil idle


lying on a bed or a couch half awake
half sleepy from last nights celebration
thinking in slow motion unsteadily
maybe i am getting too old for inebriation

still yesterday was a great day
we fought and celebrated a glorious win after long
hard work coupled with some luck
always leaves you humming a sweet song

i check my mails idly surf my social net
the net is quiet this morning
as if it too celebrated a lot last night
but check on it , it will be partying by evening

now tasks have to be done
daily chores yet to be begun
so we shake off the idleness like a shaggy dog who got wet
prepare to carpe diem ready get set

still an idle shrug and an occasional yawn
reminds aging bones to rest before dawn



Julian Assange Dear Chap

Julian Assange a very Dear Chap
couldnt control his pecker
got caught in a honey trap
Should have kept that rubber on, Jules
Nordic Scandinavians may be easy but even they have rules

meanwhile Dear Chap’s Website the eponymous Wikileaks
is leaking revolution and democracy like  Vegas casino magic tricks
The Arabs read his website before Sentor Joe crashed it down
And now  Anglo Saxon allies in Egypy, Tunisia, Libya, Yemen, Bahrain are wearing a frown

Viva La Website Revolution Wikileaks
Merde to the Dear Chap\s pecker squeaks
Time up, time for all dictators to go and hide,
rulers Arabian, or Aussi hackers on a funny ride.

From my bed- POEM

United States Army Center for Health Promotion...
Image via Wikipedia

Tucked in a hospital neatly sanitized

Stowed away from society in a medical compromise

Between the forces of destiny, decay and medical molecular action

Awaiting the prognosis as I am soundly exorcized

Grand delusions realistic illusions and promise of hope

Lift my mood when every other chemical has tried and failed

Prayer helps, so do online afar friendly people,

Hang on buddy, get back on track after being derailed

We need you more than your needers did

We love you more than any of your lovers will

Your dreadful prose, mundane wit, hilarious code

Have made you a daily part of our life though online still

Blog on, dog gone, be inspired, be still

Calmly heal, than slowly mend

We will wait with patience

Till your hospice stint will painless end.

A Poem for all those restless Arabian Knights

The cast of Watchmen, created in 1986 by Gibbo...
Image via Wikipedia

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.[1]

OZYMANDIAS BY Horace Smith.[12

In Egypt’s sandy silence, all alone,
Stands a gigantic Leg, which far off throws
The only shadow that the Desert knows:
“I am great OZYMANDIAS,” saith the stone,
“The King of Kings; this mighty City shows
“The wonders of my hand.” The City’s gone,
Nought but the Leg remaining to disclose
The site of this forgotten Babylon.
We wonder, and some Hunter may express
Wonder like ours, when thro’ the wilderness
Where London stood, holding the Wolf in chace,
He meets some fragments huge, and stops to guess
What powerful but unrecorded race
Once dwelt in that annihilated place.


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