May 22, 2018


SONNET-1-Impale not the hours, that genteel pact did stook,
Upon that furtive gad,it winnows,whereon every specie doth bleed,
Will pluck like a leaf impalpable to blench funky frith,
And that immolate,imporous fairly doth not excel over peremptory
That stealth away,unflappable placidity of the  impassive  waves,
To a dingy din and dionysian bray of heinous gallows and hoods hie
him stringent,
His fume fungible cannot fumigate , ecclat incursion of its funky frith,
And like a funambulist, trapped with its tethering rope,the incorrigible
Earshot of the incrustation
O earth ,funkying  o  the earth moans,and barrenness flies on every side ,
Frost on lusty leaves,impudent pottery,a postulate pleonastic to elope,
Nor as a plumage, disdain’d brine being pluck’d and viscid like a plumpyPicture of shy timid teenage girl with colored hair covering face with hands and peeping through her fingers at camera. Young woman hiding her face being frightened, scared or ashamed. Body language
Lush’d out of drowned seas of funkying  wedlock, O gathered flowers rot
Away when not timely  distilled by heavenly  moistures,asphyxiated by
Trapped breeze and winter of gravy train far away.

SONNET-2-As whiffs,like a whim,whistle in the whist,that caprice like
a freak,a buzzing sound,
A whir barely  frets ,its whirlwind over its sagging mile, whisk eyed reverted
 back to its windbound,
Then let not its winter wheeling waves deface thee,break even some spiral
over hapless dusk,
Wince not,adorn not your neck with the bracelet of its sorcery,to deign its
vitriolic malignance,
That unkempt swagger is forbidden usury,which wattles those gladiators,
Wasping its unflappable Trojan horse,that’s for prudence,to breed another
A thousand times thyself a merchandise,warpier than thou,or a thousand
times virulent thee submerged,
Be it foul play or wastrel tacit,if a thousand times of thy wastrel thee coagulate,
Then,what could a funky frith,a voluptuous grope of sandy shore do?if thou should
Wassail’d ,wasp in its gaol,be not a nebula,and a warren to banish its volcano,
Volcano!volcano!!volcano!!! it burns an Everest lustre,unhallowed and all the
Colours of rainbow sunk beneath its primrose bank.
Sullen’st music hear’st not mellifluous symphony,nature’s vouch,sour after
sour,sour with sour,
Flex and war not ,nor its yellings mangled tis gravy train eloped;why hear’st thou not
 humourous girth,
Or otherwise cringest with hedonism thine contempt;if the funky frith of
Trojan horses,be smitten,by hurly-burly.

SONNET-3-Do pervert thine marrow,in retrogression,thy sinew,should’st hustle flimsy,
How one persevere humorous girth,hurl’d beneath dunghill,strikes a lackluster
With tides downhill;
Veering  pertinacity and ignobility ,to encrust sarcasm,in one fell swoop,
Funky deign doth sings whose clutterless and clueless lyrics,being frivolous
Sings foul play,to thee;’’thou unblemished rot,is it for frith,runnest thou affray,
That burnest like a volcano on misty mountain?Ah thou clueless bigot,if thou
 Clutterless hypostatic
Hypostasis shall harp to abide and trojan horses,reddened by kismetic palms,
Running away,will make thyself merchandise of contempt,and not to  smother ,
 A steely fibre, rampaging igneous rocky ignite,the earth with thy hell tarry still,
And thy impudent iceberg weep,
Not being with a trademark distinctive hewn,has hurtle behind glorious palms
And feet,
When every sordid plough,in that hell,might be dunghill cremat’d by sweltering
eyes of laborious hours,
Her humus vertex enclosed and still  the world contends;but  custom’s freak,hath
 upon the earth elongated,
 Behold ,what a miser in the world doth speaks,condescends but his  immolate
and groove unscath’d,
the afflict’d so destroy’st his hood,so illogical and illiberal and no poison as
venomous and no cancer as gangrenous,
As the frith,funkying on a pure cauldron,its carteblanche sparest no rod,that on
Himself,kismetic feet smouldered,

SONNET-4- What a vile ,that heaven’s plaudit eulogises,for
hypothecation thou bearest not sword for nothing,
As the frith and thy merchandise are so froth a verecund
Unleash if thou wilt,thy art as thy defence ,thy breastplate,
That being against thyself,might loom and linger ,seeking
furacious claws,to ruinate,
Which to thy thraldom,should be thy relief tied,shall its thralldom
 fairer ,that its purest gold, be as the glorious dew and kismetic
palms not akimbo,Make thee that harpoon for  dart against whales ,
That beauty still bedecked the gladiators,with untangled kismetic feet
of gold ,
Or to thyself decimates its kindled kismetic feet of gold;rise above
 The heartburn ,impetuous and headstrong,
So fast as thou canst run,with that fresh blood that thou mayest
 Fret with arts yonder hills’ escapades,
Beauteous pearls and pebble dusk,coagulate at hansock ,imploring
Hebetude to hebetate,
Clasp and heckle a reef knot,that homily,upon the growl of sands
of time,might centuries preach,
Heathendom decrepit with funky frith, heaves its headway,whereon
Sweet compare,hailed mass boggy cloak,but homologous disjointed .

SONNET -5-O that you were not slammed by this thraldom yourself?
But harlequin like a clown in a pantomime ,haziest hawks,much stronger
Than hebetude yourself ,
To treacherous slam thy bellicose navel,and in neuter of this malediction,
Beware of wits’ end ,
To jealously price your verdict ,not imprudence plucks,so should thy heed ,
Be bristl’d to hatch in its season  ,
And above thy deign reproof be,held in legion of hostage indigo,helot and
Hobbledehoy of its gauchy but ineffable clouds,
As infidelity infest its despondent seasons,infelicitous growls its sullen
Whose ode on indolence ,is as stale as frittered zeal ,and a  barren land
Which lets so  a discreet callow,overwhelmed crust,fall to deceit and
 decrepitous indexterity ,
Which infecundity,in an evaporating soil,upends against  its stormy mists,and
Barren soil,unthrifty jingoist,o none but impaled frugality appends sagacity,
O you had a bile ,let your foible be cut,O you had a bile,indeed,let your
foible be cut  ,
Let it be cut otherwise obscure shalt thou histrionics and melodrama play,
Then shall the impudence of this oddman’s mélange,whisks infiltrate away.

SONNET 6-Thyself pedigreed,thy pedigree itself pedicured thee not to funky-
Over strangled vale unbetrothed ,over pink sallowed shells befuddled and 
Still jump through the hoops,hoicked  in a hoopla of hornies and horseplays,
Hobbyhorses of hobos,fleabites, hokum and hives of  histrionics,still funky frith,
Thou hillocked hillbilly,be not in hock,wherein you plow this glum brass that gnaws
So deeply,
Be thy gob,at thy fulminate,not gobbled this sacrilege,and be not gadfly as thou
sunketh do,
And when thou blue funk,funkiest fracture and fest,gallivanting footloose,shriek,
At the pit of hell,
Earth shattering earthlings,perished earthwork,burrowing earthworms,subacid
Dotage of dead-brat and deadbeat ignition,gadabouts,whammed, with
confiscated volition,
And wrought wryly yoyos,whingeing and whining and shrieking,a mere whimsical
Thou art thyself a whipping boy,witchdoctor of thy own self-abnegative witchery,
When bulwark falls,a waif that returns his distending passion,not shirk its eagle,
Nor its  tendentious wakeful,hobos no more at the ignition plow;what viva his
 plaudits earn!
How come vacuous vagrants entangle this plain,embroidered by blue funk
that friths!

SONNET 7-The urbanity of this utopian urban myth,more than proven,as
As urbane as its diffusion,that s fairest of its provincial legions,to stymie
That s splenetic  styptics  stylistics to eclipse  carthasis of the cosmos  renegade
 funky frith apologia summons,

Much averse doth avarice its avaunt ,bally ballot of its
tendon soothe
And much less worth not much a disdain of his auxillaries,
More than a sinister to balk and hoodwink,once the balloon
goes up,
One dapper ,a Cardoso at Venice,poignant out of corps de ballet,
her ballerina swayed ,
Hardly had he decked his waist with the baldric of baleful baulks,
Did he his balls of  banal and prisoner of foibles at the bar interrogated
at a stone s throw,
On a bank holiday,a tenth foot pole at the cashing point stared him in
 the face ,
And upon bearing his soul ,that his teeth bared,that quirky eaon,barge into
his sedulous groove,
And barges as he traipse and  traipses as he barge,stonefaced as barefaced
Barmily barmy
And no pacify to sooth him apoplexy and exhaustion tis like a barman and
a barsmitzvah,
A toddler barbiturates served he,and soon,that his ignoble beast of burden,
Ferrying ire and beaten blue by its own batik, dozes off,on a  sofa of
crowded alehouse,
His orgy,beast of prey by aura,that brash alterego that bearded the lion in
his den to gash showbiz opera,
A repertoire of besotted ballerinas,stampeded with besmirched feet,at his
heels .

And being turgid upon his hellbent,sloshed them to pulsate wherein pulses
And pulses as they heart-throb,
And dare a damn dead opera,damn dead ,unfair to fusspots with bated breath
Open sesame!open sesame!open sesame!open sesame!had he gone to bats?
How well,his stormy petrel blazes them trail to trail-blaze in his traction of
tortuous grail,
But he not frugal at Venice,had morbid lurk,at nadir to jade them well beneath,
And now at hand grieving as they merely meek and prattle,without practice,is
his soldiership of oratorio,
And they like a heathen to the atteliery goons them moorless,at his beast of burden
Apoplectic avaunt,
Beyond their  kungfus,kudos coronated to him of a timely berserk, they crowed not
and kowtow,
And being subservient as sedentary at his heels,they ply their troth,tis awoke he,in a
Flabbergast ,
Why art they cringy bounteous crowded at  his circumference,wherein his radius stood?

O lest his cosmos should fret idolatry swing thy neath of apostasy,
wine and dine,
What merit fastened in his fret to goof that he should plumb upward bank
After his cameo refrain then under duress swung in the amorous bank,
And a lifelong flirt stained and stigmatized a once glorious plummet,
For you the love as lust or licentiousness can mean nothing to prove,if nothing
But smear,
Unless it be for chaste to chide thee,a  bully-some virtuous lie,that never
To do more damage than mine own lease to wither funky frith’s gauchiest
O how sloth,heaved more coals upon the deceased dreams,than libidinous
O let not this defilement,pine away sanctity of the soul that should in his
Martyrdom mammoth salvaged,
Ain’t no true love at Alupluto;for the banditry by tentacles of its blanket terror,
Had mortgaged womensfolk for a prize of aggression,and every raid,pleasure
them deeply ,
And durress’d into oath taking,minacious random raids coagulated with terror,
Stare them clear,o stare clear;for the womensfolk,art being plunged into its
 Cimmerian darkness of counter espionage,
Lest thy esoteric well kept be divulged at the price of lecherous dogs
Dine and wine

I am the bard of Alupluto,in me thou fadeth not in the sunset tis sunrise
And twilight of such glorious herald ,
Which by me if not reneged doth gavel silvermoon  as the deathbed of
 laborious rites,
That on the ashes of ash heaps,gregarious chant ,greedily and greedily
doth lie,
And if it be not thee pervertest abstain;abstain!abstain!abstain!abstain!
Why is their resolve,they the mighty fallen heels, so barren in the land,
So windy sail  besmirched and encroached ,from the coagulated bed of
Why with thy gorgeous brawn ever flexed at fracas do I not they as thee
Implored them to lunge?
Abstain!abstain!yet they  disgusting and repugnant abscond from its refrain
Why I write thee,I implore thee that this salvo  that  they fiasco flex’d,thou
Mayest not err,
Keep the invention away from the weed,that every word of the gospel,doth
Fairly observe,
Let it be known that sweet allegiance,beyond compare,a surest salvation
For as the sunrise is daily twain to the sunset in the conjugal bliss of the
Elliptical oval,
So shall thee to thine twine of salvation train unbundled,as is the pracis
 of galactic stars,
In the golden hook bereft of wrinkles,whereon that this thy chef d’ouevre

So grandiose a cheesepairing of painstaking good cheer enlist thee in
the golden sands of time,
As predestined hewn of the kismetic palms,unctioned by mothernature,
In the frittered banks,thou shalt not be found nor fired blank,with the
Blandest grin,
Many a ilks of this Venice dapper,crissedcrossed this plains,damocled
by licentiousness,
And lo,silvermoon went up in smoke,depleted without remedy and this
Epistle of etiquette,
Not etiolated,wilt not thee, thy craftsmanship crabwise never ever
Where all thy treasure as thou thyself not outgone noon doth not
 homage pay.


Crimson frigid invertebrates,unassailable,involutionary,
Infiltrated with the infirmity of the neurosis,and jaundiced vaunt,
Tethered senile and hobbling hobbledehoy,Inveigled,with the
 invidious impinge of the ogre,
Illbred histrionics of the city square,to play the mortifying
As dazzling razzmatazz and impecunious bough of poltrooned 

Image result for pictures of TIMID PERSON

Perforce ,it will iterate intuses’galumph,inversely ferried across
Its splendiferous languor,
A landsman ,who cannot see above his lassitudinous landscape,
Tongues and semantics of the Moorish polyglots are alien to him,
To whom this brutish carapace springs ,froth upon his blushing impiety,
Livid lips and subtile evasion,
And the imbued suicide pains ,that cannot be allayed even  by  sheer
overdose of nepenthe.

With subacid passion and imprimatured impiety ,he  lies intestate ,caressed
 with fusillade and  indigo of ado-phobia,
And the sun rises,and the moon rises,and the sun falls and the moon falls ,
at the racketeering of elliptical oval,
Grim-death,pawned,in that summit of evaporating sunbeam,thou wilt not
 deign this favour,
Still it meeds, by naturewit ,carious suggilation,from its impending farrago of pothered
And the sun cries when it rises,and the moon laments,when it rises,and the sun cries ,
when it falls,and the moon laments,when it falls.

What a sundry of peripatetic gangrenes ,replete with, stupendous nozzles ,and
frangible banks of  inapposite rudders ,
How shall we be relieved,if we gather ,such plenitude of infirmities  and fragments
 of a potsherd,to re-groove vacuity,at convalescence,
To whom, nondescript nooddle,defied,with its nobblesse ,pouted against its
Sturdy simpletons and weetless half-wits,stale and staid,sings like a minstrel,these
 verses and stanzas of ado-phobia,
He atones thrice fairer ,than himself,with indolence ,pledges,to woo his sick-thoughted
bile and obdurate neurosis.

Furthermost,he nauseates from the gully of his viviparous gauchy clouds,warbling with
the necromancy of insolence,
Pleads him,to ambush, from contumacious well-spring,to vouchsafe ,at the molestation
 of motherwit,
Oh,that myrmidon,pleases him,to dwell,wherein slothfest,in slothcity,indulges,to the
Plenary of gregarious chants,
Rudderless banks,necessitous,but namby-pamby indigents of mottled navel,monomaniacs
Of the wall-eyes,
Trembling in windy escutcheon and vitiated mores ,to do a villainious good,amidst famished
nymphs, mumpish recreants and vagrant psychotics.

To refrain a truce of  the hoity toity aperture,ridiculing supposed piety ,at the saddlebow
A thousand foul plays,not numbed by a thousand nebulous secrets,unequivocal,shall the
Vafrous sands of time be enamoured,to recoil its lambent,
Oh,what a nefarious unicorn,time is ,with its elegiac ode to ado-phobia and its inglorious
To sequestrate,palid undulating jingoism of its ultra,montanious freedom,and barter its
Truculent,still,it steeds and by its treacle,imoinges ,tophaceous translucence of naturewit.

Tacking and tacking ,titubation itself ,totters, its rudderless banks whereon,tenancy of time
Canst not quench,
Let time’s scorn and tantrums,scold the beautiful ones as punitive strayed horses ,once
Mutilated as lack-lustre claws,
And the thespian introspectors and histrionic cartoonists ,shalt return ,to river streams ,not
To  pout,
But to scoop , fresh water ,with a thesis ,tutored by Hegelian dialectics,  socratic dialogue,
And Cartesian logic of cogito ergo sum,
To refute tenebrous ligaments ,and lo,the tempestuous temerity of time’s inglorious techy,
testicles .

Mated,with terraces of temerarious pedagogues and irreproachable erudition,not impeached
By intransitive intrepidity,
Tepsichorean dancing,dances threadbare,capsized by languor ,clams like clambake,tingles ,tambourine
At kickshaw of paratonic paresis,
Moult! Moult!!moult!!! ,the cricket voice of Nightingale sings,
Moult,so sings the nightingale , to carry coal to Newcastle,
At a peripatetic circumference ,engrave now ,perfervidity ,perforates thee,
Perforce perfidy ,

Peremptory and perdurable ,flog subtle wits of perfunctory darkest hours.
Behold ,penny wise particle ,now partible ,thou canst not fail,
And the moon rises and the sun rises ,even above its perihelion of smokey orbit,
Ado-phobia ,reverts back to its bellyache and burning earth,whereon its keepsake is
Nothing but sheol galore,
Antiheros and antiheroines , antediluvian arids,woo not armistice ,to bait a backward
 country,a backward charm and a bag of bones.

As it trods the earth,with  unearthly volley ,esoteric pearls divers ,smitten   and 
asphalted with armada of argy bargy bazaar of bedridden charms,
To frolic its flippancy , gallivanting miry girth to beards,with glees , ado-phobia in
 its den.