David Petraeus & the writing between his legs

BARACK OBAMA in BASIC 'IN - STINK '

The third sequel of the instinct filled trilogy is a live performance with a political twist. It stars the highest echelons of the US government  squealing,wriggling and flashing a generous display of hairy scary legs.

With the stimulus bill on crutches, a growing debt and unemployment to measure up with, he does need to flash his leg to seek re election. Well..he is certainly out to 'woo'- manise the 'man-date'.

KARUNANIDHI : Deep Pockets,Deeper Secrets

Ethically constipated, morally plural and easily, one of our country's 'stray cash bulls with udders' that boasts of dispensing a steady supply of unlactic wealth, buttered in the acceptable flavours of corruption, manipulative power and timely deceit. This nursing mystery of scholarly talk and un- scholarly demeanor, has created a lineage of 'so mannered fledglings' his sperm composition will definitely be proud of. In our land, such an unsocial occurrence is as common as finding an army of cockroaches in a sewer.      

With sons wailing and a daughter counting bars

this octogenarian,  curses his failing stars

With deep  pockets and deeper secrets

concealing slimy corsets and slimier dockets

he treads a path of glorified shame

bartered for two pennies of craving fame

Blinded by greed

he went on to feed
Now... when the odds seem hard
he sits pretty... praying for a trump card
With a flurry of many a rival
the question is,is there hope for revival 
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Added Dimension. This, as you see and read, is a 'censored version'. The original thought process,both in illustration and verse have been banished from the humble abode. 

'PUTIN'g it right

Seated on top an unforgiving icicle, in the vicinity of Mount Elbrus, the highest point in the Caucasus, was a red dyed premier of dwindling fame, Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin.

The mount and the man carry on their confining shoulders,  a very eruptive past. Now, nevertheless, the distorted man had a different tale to croon. He stood at the draw of the ascend, nursing a black eye , sobbing in anger and cursing in glory. The flavour of a revolution was rising to a crescendo in, around and outside the ballot boxes of Saint Petersberg. The premiers black eye, was a nudging milestone.

While the number heavy Bolsheviks let their mind ponder about unjust elections, the pride soaked Mensheviks seemed in-ardently concerned about the discoloured eye patch. This overt concern snowballed into a covert quip that finally landed gracefully on the not so graceful lap of the warring Duma.

The onus was now on the steer of the Duma to set matters right.Thus,with the renowned torture room specialist Alexander Ballsquashki (Ball-squash-ki) in tow, the arm twisted media was summoned to pen and broadcast epics of Putins glory.

''Our President has suffered a minor injury'' he declared, stealing a glance between the rim of his spectacles and the fold of the brow for any voices of flagship dissent.''In the wee of hours of an undisclosed day, our leader volunteered to test evasive prisoner of war drills with our chief interrogator.The President was shown as much mercy as your worst nightmare was.'' 

The beefcake in tow, nodded, his head,synchronizing hell and earth in nondescript bounce.The spokesman continued   '' in doing so, as a true upholder of the revolution and a committed judoka, he triumphed, but in the process suffered a minor injury to his eye which today bears testimony to his commitment to this great nation ''
 
The head of the duma presumed he had killed two birds with one stone.Just as he was recovering from his momentary lap of glory, a communist grown tomato from the rebel stock was hurled in violent fury from the far end of the conference room. The fruit turned missile traveled in epic shattering speed, found its mark and caught the monumental interrogator on his right eye. 

A Menshevik voice was heard screaming from the gathering ''..there is more to a commitment  than what meets the eye, the truth which has just been replicated for your consumption.'' Thus, placing a shroud over the premature heroics of a leader.

(Written on a casual note about one of the leaders that I adore.... to the hilt)

In the grip of a Bengal Tigress : MUM's the word

A trigger happy lose canon is crawling,walking,running, trotting and galloping the sickle'd length and reddened breadth of volatile Bengal.The gun of enduring damage is towed from weak pillar to weaker posts by a toothless tigress of unpredictable demeanor. The ire of the weapon was aimed at anything, with a remotely opposing flavour. Gun and gun woman were wrecking mayhem in Rosgulla land.

While on their state wide onslaught, the tigress and her bone gnawing convoy were soon running out of firepower. 

The disconcerted rumble in the rank and file of the feline assault was momentarily anchored.A growing measure of anger was enveloping the lady in stripes. 

As the mercurial twists of temperament was on the rise, a naive brethren of the khaki community marched in.After the customary mechanical salute and cliched sway of the baton,in measured politeness, he questioned the ignoble intentions of the havoc trail.

The quick silvered character of the growling 'didi' pack was aghast. The goddess of fastidious esteem stepped forward bearing a toothless growl. In a sway she gripped the lawman by her claws and uttered ''In here....my way, no other way !!''  

With a change of guard in the state, the state of affairs is described as '....from the frying pan,into the fire'