November 3, 2015 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION


Sanju Clement



Assumption  #77 



As far as I am concerned
There are two types of gods / aliens!

One type believes in the swift progress
Of the humankind
Other type believes in the slow progress
Of the humankind

Trust me that both are really very good

Because, they are “GODS”
Not “FOOLS” like us who fight
And kill each other even for unthinking
But holiness–thrust–upon (four–legged) animals

Okay, leave it . . .
But you will def think of that someday
When your sleep leave you

Because, bitter indigested truths

Will grow like giant sequoias in you

And someday will pierce the placating sky

Of your holy-(boring)-verses programmed brain.

I tell you that seriously there is an iota
Of dilemma even in the modern human being

For example, what if I tell you that
Jesus Christ / the super–dimensional being with alien DNA
Was sent by the latter gods / aliens
To create a new religion?

Because, religion has many vices
(and an invisible paradigm shift too) . . . . . . .

It will hinder the progress of free thinking
It will divide human mind and kind
It will brand you with names unknown to humanism
It will make you duplicate men & duplicate women
To look at the sky and pray & pray & pray & just breed & die
It will give more importance to the dead one’s (language / scriptures)
Than the rational livings’
It will create real terrorists who wear powerful suits
And walking saffron / “white–washed cemeteries”
Or brain–washing machines & folly–faith–netting priests!
Etc . . . . . . .

Ah, I know what you are thinking now
Don’t try to brand me as an atheist

Seriously, I am not an atheist
Because, I believe in the existence of a creator
And I call him the God, Bhagwan, Allah, Almighty etc . . .







Assumption alpha & omega



Once upon a place of blindest silence

The omniscient and the omnipotent Artist said

“Let there be light”!


Light fell upon everyone’s eyes!


Living and dead, harmless and harmful, quill & ink,

Nudity & clothing nature, flesh & sword, day and night,

Saw each other and collided with each other, knowingly.


But, when the light fell upon the bipeds’ greedy thoughts

They shed their light to build a wormhole or portal to dissect,

Decipher or hack even the censored thoughts or the server of the greatest Artist.

Thinking animals portrayed epics & holy books about unknown god/s

Who even download words & weapons from stealth mode

Who even teleport mountains, fire, deluge, civilizations (& country fellas

From death and vise versa) with a simple password / mantra.


Alas! The greatest Artist’s masterpiece/s turned against him,

Become thunderbolt monsters stormy for blood & mystery!


“But, dudes, don’t ever try to mess up with the God,

Mess up with each other, man is man but God is always God.

Let there be unending fight” among you frauds,

Your productivity, technology, dividing-walls & string theories.

So, I can sleep well and my seat also will be safe”


Greatest Artist amended his work/s!


He did split the minds of the thinking animals

With religions, short-life span, oblivion, judging & languages.


Thus, we live in a world of greedy wolves


Junior & senior puppets of the shadow-less God/s.
Ah! I call them sinfully killing human rascals!


For they roam with rotten and howling souls,
Here and there, day and night, hunting harmony.


Always on the paths of pandemonium,
Blinding the helpless eyes of peace & fraternity;
Hating the birth of visible climes and secular vibes!

Simply for their useless bliss, these baffled brainless buffalos,
Without an iota of sense, ha, do rape & slaughter.
O! Finally they stab on their own children’s dreams

And the veins of their own bleeding country too!


If you pat and oil on their faults-fanning-feathers,

They will drop even the undiscovered heaven’s blue-roots down

For your liquid-sins and solid-hunger to climb up.

That too, without the sale of be(li)ef-looting indulgences.

Just like the donation-situation-exploitation-equilibrium

Thinking pests’ jammed, penned and faith programmed
Holy—honored—dead—books do!


Of what Biology,

These whoresons are made of, I don’t know.
Of what History, Gusthi, Psychology,

Worships, Warships & Bullfighting they possess,

They do really reveal wearing chameleon-camouflage.


O! Barking & conspiring cannibals,
You breath, work, ethic and peace thieves,
Will you tell the world that


By whom humanism was taught you?


Yet, I believe that someday
They will change and merrily breathe with the world,
At least in a molecule of our altruistic dream!


But, now my patience left me,
To watch these cosmic-bores’ dance of doom!


I will hate, I will hate & I will hate


The reincarnating but the hating


Character in you like the holy cow dung,
Until I feel that you are fit to live in
A noble dream of this world with all in accord!


I will axe the blood of all these


Unlimited editions of peace-chewing maniac-sons


With protest poems like hurricanes
“Comrade Pablo” & “Matilde”!


Time to shut down your ancient


And modern ultimate nonsense from myths & legends.
Get enlightened you stellar-idiot-holes,
To really live in a bliss of humanism;

In this birth!


Because, we are designed


And somewhat programmed to live peacefully


In this beautiful, cultured & habitable world,
Rather than in any Sun or Moon,


Or in any Hell or Heaven!







Crucifixion  / Habeas Corpus



An aslant bleeding-sea hangs

On the wooden-pains, painted by

Whips, lashes, nails and betrayal!


Yet, wonders and admirations

Happen here, in life, in books and in movies

By mythologies & religions manipulations.


Still, a dividing promise from the middle

Of a throbbing land mingles, climbs and pulls down

Even blue prayer & sleep of the sky with the throbbing

Of billion-blind-followers from A.D

Or Common Era (C.E) onwards.


Time to get Poetryshaped


To loathe the fungal & the frugal findings
Of the judges of Nobel, Booker & Oscar,
For they always forget to cite him for
Peace, Fiction & Special Effects.

Behold! A crucified white blood of man,
Murders his own death and sprints from the pain


Of the cross, every time when your prayers
Of sins and indulgences suffocate and buckle
And pin on his peace.


Beloved end of pain / death,
You are not what you are!
Ah! That too a resurrection?
That too a come & go?


Friggatriskaideca night said: “But
You can’t blame a super dimensional cosmo-

Nut with alien DNA”

O! Greatest but faceless Guru
We (thinking) walking-zoos,
Swimming-zoos & flying-zoos
Bury prime bleeding flowers
At the altar of the hollow spirit praising you
Praying to / at an imagined version of you

But, I can’t paint your real face
Because, I am neither 2015 years of age
Nor you appeared before me, so far.

I don’t know an asin or a worthy model-alive
Ah! Da Vinci was fortunate but unjust to use


The same model for you and Judas as well

But there is always a biggest difference
Between Jesus-model & model-Jesus
Painting-thought & photo-thought
Last supper & feast break-fast, hardware
& software, water-walking & walking-
Water, “halva & fish-curry”, so, long live


As a faceless Guru but forget not

To be a dividing but foolish lamb

Between God & man or virtue & sin!




(Assumptions of the poet about crucifixion: ” There is a hypothesis that the aliens abducted the body of Jesus Christ from the cave where he was buried after the crucifixion, (I don’t believe that though I do believe in the existence of super intelligent civilizations, aliens & their celestial vehicles) but, anyhow he reached heaven, a beautiful place / planet still unknown to us, because, he believed in and did what he preached; humanism and altruism.

I presume that both (the Christ & the Cross) got new life after the crucifixion of the Christ . . Because, though the cross & the crucifixions were there even before the Christ, it was only when Christ got crucified, the whole purpose of that piece of wood started changing, from a death-inflicting object (we all know that cross alone can’t inflict death, more precisely, it was nails, thorns & whips were the reasons for his death, so I wonder at times that why don’t people worship those instead of cross?) to a well accepted thing for it provided a way for the son of God / Man to get resurrected!

Those who had cursed that gory piece of wood later gave it a new life of worship . . So the end of pain / death of the cross happened there itself when the Christ got resurrected, thereby both got new life . . I don’t know or I don’t care whether his blood gave the world eternal salvation or not, but what I am more interested in is his thoughts & words which I treasure, yea, they teach humanism, care & sacrifice for whole of humanity . . These are my assumptions only”).









Sanju Clement

Sanju Clement is a promethean, poet and painter who hails from Kerala (India), land of gods, devils and monsoon too . . His poetic and artistic invention is that he starts from the zonal heights of the light of Metaphorical Surrealism but he will land on the realistic feet of Metaphorical Realism, which truthfully mirror in almost all of his poems and paintings . . He is compiling his books of poesy on Love (“20 poems of Drizzling Green & A Melody of Melancholy”) & Ultra / Hyper Protest Political Poems (“Give me pain, I’ll give you a poem”) themes!


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