Saturday, December 1, 2007

The Constipated poets of Poem Hunter


The Constipated poets of Poem Hunter
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

photo courtesy

www.theborg.info/MikeonThrown.jpg

THE CONSTIPATED POETS OF POEM HUNTER


Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Harderrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Muchharderrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Shitttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt

The groans and moans
They screech and force
Poems out of their bum
No only a single poem
Dripping in gravy
Is only willing to come
A rectal rhapsody
Mate and chum
Constipated poets
Of poem hunter
Beating a hollow drum
We spam poets
Non stop shitting poems
From arsehole to eternity
To kingdom come
Reaching the top
Of a hallowed pinnacle
Is not our agenda or
Part of our income
Tara ra ra rum pump pum
Look leap before you shit and jump




Inspired by Ric S Bastasa
Dedicated to a badly cheesed bit
He almost stark raving mad
Poetically died of a fit
Unfortunately asterisks
As a poem he did shit
moronic dumb
dimwit

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The Constipated poets of Poem Hunter


The Constipated poets of Poem Hunter
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

The Constipated poets of Poem Hunter
photo courtesy

www.theborg.info/MikeonThrown.jpg

THE CONSTIPATED POETS OF POEM HUNTER


Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Harderrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Muchharderrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Shitttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt

The groans and moans
They screech and force
Poems out of their bum
No only a single poem
Dripping in gravy
Is only willing to come
A rectal rhapsody
Mate and chum
Constipated poets
Of poem hunter
Beating a hollow drum
We spam poets
Non stop shitting poems
From arsehole to eternity
To kingdom come
Reaching the top
Of a hallowed pinnacle
Is not our agenda or
Part of our income
Tara ra ra rum pump pum
Look leap before you shit and jump




Inspired by Ric S Bastasa
Dedicated to a badly cheesed bit
He almost stark raving mad
Poetically died of a fit
Unfortunately asterisks
As a poem he did shit
moronic dumb
dimwit

Love poetry Hate racism

“God never made a tougher son of a bitch than me, 'Evel Knievel


“God never made a tougher son of a bitch than me, 'Evel Knievel
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

photo courtesy
holamun2.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/12/evel.jpg

Daredevil Evel Knievel dies after long illness
By Robert Green Fri Nov 30,7: 06 PM ET
ST. PETERSBURG, Florida (Reuters) - Daredevil Evel Knievel, who dodged death in spectacular motorcycle leaps and crashes in a life full of showmanship, died on Friday at age 69, according to his lawyer and a message on his Web site.

'I just spoke with him last night. He seemed to be in good spirits, ' said Knievel's lawyer, Richard Fee, adding he died in the Tampa Bay area of Florida where he recently made his home.
The front page of the tempestuous showman's official Web site - www.evelknievel.com - read simply 'Robert Craig 'Evel' Knievel October 17,1938 - November 30,2007.' The site quickly became inaccessible as it presumably was deluged by hits.
'Anybody can jump a motorcycle, ' he once told Esquire magazine. 'The trouble begins when you try to land it.'
Knievel - who retired in 1981 after breaking more than 40 bones in his body, including his back seven times - had been ill for some time, suffering from a lung disease.
He recently gave what he said 'may be the last interview I ever do' to the December issue of Maxim magazine and battled rap singer Kanye West for infringing his trademark in the 'Touch the Sky' video, in which West appears as 'Evel Kanyevel' and wears a white jumpsuit like the one Knievel made famous.
The two reached a settlement on Tuesday.
In his heyday, the king of all daredevils dressed like a superhero in a red, white and blue leather jumpsuit with a cape and cane, his hair sculpted back in a tall pompadour.
Knievel's greatest stunt turned out to be a failure when on September 8,1974, he tried to ride a rocket-powered motorcycle across the Snake River Canyon in Idaho.
With a pay-per-view television audience watching, the parachute deployed when his Skycycle X-2 was only two-thirds across, sending the cycle into the canyon wall.
It landed partly in the river but Knievel walked away with minor injuries.
For a jump over 13 double-decker buses in London's Wembley Stadium in 1975, he was paid $1 million, a fortune at the time, according to Maxim.
One of Knievel's motorcycles - a 1972 Harley-Davidson XR-750 - is in the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History in Washington, D.C.
PAIN, TROUBLE AND TOUGHNESS
His final years were plagued by pain from his accidents, as well as pulmonary fibrosis, a scarring of the lungs.
'God never made a tougher son of a bitch than me, ' Knievel told USA Today in an interview published in January.
The reporter described Knievel, who was 68 at the time, as feeble and reliant on an oxygen tank and an implanted drug pump to relieve his pain.
He spent almost a month in a coma in 1968 after he crashed while jumping the fountains at the Caesars Palace casino-hotel in Las Vegas. There were more serious injuries when he tried to clear a tank full of sharks in Chicago in 1976.
'If you don't know about pain and trouble, you're in sad shape, ' he told Esquire. 'They make you appreciate life.'
Knievel's personal life was at times almost as painful as his job. He had trouble with the law starting as a teenager, went through bankruptcy and was estranged for years from his son, Robbie, who also became a motorcycle daredevil.
Knievel did not quit drinking until undergoing a liver transplant in 1999.
Born in Butte, Montana, he said he was inspired at the age of 8 when he saw an auto daredevil show.
He was dubbed 'Evil Knievel' by a jailer in Montana after crashing his motorcycle while fleeing from police. He later changed the spelling to 'Evel' as his daredevil career took off to avoid being perceived as a bad guy.
Knievel was married twice and had four children.
(Writing by Michael Christie in Miami, additional reporting by Bill Trott in Washington and Steve Gorman in Los Angeles; Editing by John O'Callaghan)

http: //news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20071201/ts_nm/knievel_dc





“God never made a tougher son of a bitch than me, '

'If you don't know about pain and trouble, you're in sad shape, '
'They make you appreciate life.'
'Anybody can jump a motorcycle, '
'The trouble begins when you try to land it.'

Evel Knievel

Called it a day
The last leap on his motorcycle of life
Jumping hurdle after hurdle
He just passed away
They don’t make Evel Knievel even today
For his soul all over the world
They will pray
He entertained us upto the hilt
Is all we can say
Rest in Peace
Daredevil with Death
you did play

Love poetry Hate racism

The Fruits of the Bodhi Tree


The Fruits of the Bodhi Tree
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

photo courtesy
www.agt-gems.com/bodhi-tree-samadi.jpg

Sayings of the Buddha

BETTER than a thousand hollow words is one word that brings peace. [Buddha ]

Neither fire nor wind, birth nor death can erase our good deeds


We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make our world


The Four Reliances
First, rely on the spirit and meaning of the teachings, not on the words;
Second, rely on the teachings, not on the personality of the teacher;
Third, rely on real wisdom, not superficial interpretation;
And fourth, rely on the essence of your pure Wisdom Mind, not on judgmental perceptions



Pay no attention to the faults of others,
things done or left undone by others.
Consider only what by oneself is done or left undone

Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one getting burned.


Words have the power to both destroy and heal. When words are both true and kind, they can change our world.

One of his students asked Buddha, 'Are you the messiah? '
'No', answered Buddha.
'Then are you a healer? '
'No', Buddha replied.
'Then are you a teacher? ' the student persisted.
'No, I am not a teacher.'
'Then what are you? ' asked the student, exasperated.
'I am awake', Buddha replied.


On life's journey Faith is nourishment,
Virtuous deeds are a shelter,
Wisdom is the light by day and Right mindfulness is the protection by night.
If a man lives a pure life nothing can destroy him;
If he has conquered greed nothing can limit his freedom.





Races fighting against race
Faces fighting against face
A black and white
A white and black
Not giving each other space
Man who destroys mankind
Man who destroys the environment
God’s nature in disgrace
Footprints on the sands of time
And no trace
Dreams to destroy the world deface
What we don’t want we chase
Peace universal peace
Mutual co –existence
We displace
Silence of the lamb
Slaughtered hopes
Searching for a safe haven
in a rotten place

Love poetry Hate racism

LOPOHARA


LOPOHARA
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

Comment about: Love poetry Hate racism
Member: Emma Zanoria-bastasa


Comment: thank you

LOPOHARA (LOvePOetryHAteRAcism)

indeed you are my soul mate to this site.

MABUHAY
(long Live!)


Love poetry hate racism
Is my battle cry
As I see racist hate
Colored asses fry
English poets
Pederasts
Child molesters
Dickless
Monstrosities
Making a pornographic hell
Of poem hunter poetry site
People who hate poem spammers
Leave aside their names as signature
A single good meaningless poem
They cannot write
Their hate vociferously
To others they subscribe
God save us from this Racist tribe
Our poems give them bad vibes
As they hit us with evil comments
And racist gibes
They force you out
If you don’t pay them poetic bribes
Disabled dishonesty pathetically
In their evil souls imbibed

Love poetry Hate racism

The Lion Hearted Poet of Philipines


The Lion Hearted Poet of Philipines
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

photo courtesy

upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/99/Flag_of...

He is passionate about poetry
He is a great judge of character
Ric S Bastasa
The all loving poet from
The loving land of Philippines
His creative juices
No mental block
Poems keep coming
From the fountainhead of
His spiritual soul
I have seen
Now some may begrudge him
Call him names
Call him a poet spammer
Which is down right mean
But than the jealous
World of poem hunter poets
Behind the scenes
The few cheese bits
One or two has been
Burst their spleen
A poem a day pen pushers
Struggling hard to get one poem
Published
concocted words
emotionless words
White washed
Without any sheen
The grass on the other side
Is as envious as is green
I salute from my Indian heart
This lion hearted poet of Philippines
And a Man who loves
All colored creative poet spammers
The one and only Trade Martin

dedicated to my friend Ric...

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Mevlana Festival Konya Turkey I shall go


Mevlana Festival Konya Turkey I shall go
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

photo courtesy

www.tarantism.com/mefloquine/turkjorpics/turkmev.jpg

The ability of the Whirling Dervishes to transfix and entire audience with their ecstatic spiritual energy remains a surprising testament to sometimes ridiculed Islamic mysticism. Every December in a festival commemorating the death of the founder of the Dervish tradition, the Dervishes, also known as the Mevlani Order, perform their traditional dance for the purpose of moving as one with God and transcending the material world.. The festival only occurs once a year, but in Konya, the city where it is held, the combined Mevlevi Museum and Shrine contains tombs of important members of the Order, and also has live performances nearby for the public that miss the Mevlana Festival, so no one will miss out completely. http: //www.thisisthelife.com/en/mevlana-festival.htm

Rumi, Jalal al-Din, Poet / Religious Figure
• Born: 30 September 1207
• Birthplace: Balkh (modern Afghanistan)
• Died: 17 December 1273
• Best Known As: Founder of the Whirling Dervishes
One of the greatest of Sufi poets, Jalal al-Din Rumi wrote poems in the 13th century which found a new audience in the U.S. in the 1990s. Rumi was already a teacher and theologian when, around 1244, he encountered a wandering dervish (a Muslim ascetic) named Shams of Tabriz. Spiritually inspired by the dervish to find God in worldly experiences, Rumi founded the Mevlani Order of the Sufi sect. Sometimes referred to as 'the drunken Sufi, ' he became famous during his lifetime for his poetic works, especially Divan-e-Shams, poems praising Shams, and the 6 volumes of Mathnawi (pronounced 'masnavi') . His followers, called Whirling Dervishes, combine music and dance, spinning around to achieve a trance-like state as a way to reach God. In the late 1990s, an updated translation by Coleman Barks became a bestseller in the U.S., and Rumi's work was further popularized by celebrities such as Deepak Chopra, Demi Moore and Madonna.

Jalai ed-Din Rumi
The Persian poet and Sufi mystic Jalai ed-Din Rumi (1207-1273) was a brilliant lyrical poet who founded his own religious order, the Mevlevis. His poetry showed original religious and wonderfully esoteric forms of expression.
The unsurpassable peak of all Sufi thought was reached in the thought of Jalal ed-Din Rumi, born in Balkh. He migrated to Konya in Asia Minor at a young age with his father, fleeing the Mongol invader of his day, Genghis Khan. On this trip in the city of Nishapur the young Rumi was presented to the famous old poet Attar, who, according to legend, predicted his future greatness and gave him his Book of Secrets. Then Rumi and his father traveled through Baghdad, Mecca, Damascus, and Erzincan, finally reaching Konya about 1226 or 1227, where he resided for most of his remaining life. His father was appointed to a high post in the empire of the Seljuks of Rum. Rumi inherited this post in 1231, when his father died. Thus Rumi was a man of means and could devote his efforts to more esoteric fields.
Religious Inspiration
The event which had the greatest influence on Rumi's intellectual and moral life was his meeting with the Sufi mystic Shams ed-Din Tabrizi. The latter, in the course of his wanderings, visited Konya and thoroughly inspired Rumi with religious fervor. As a result of this friendship, Rumi dedicated most of his writings to this wandering Sufi. Because of this also, Rumi founded the Mevlevi order of dervishes - the dancing dervishes. The unique trait of this order was that, contrary to general Moslem practice, Rumi gave a considerable place to music (the drum and reed) in the ceremonies.
The principal work of Rumi is his massive Mathnawi. This work is a compendium of poems, tales, anecdotes, and reflections - all meant to illustrate Sufi doctrine, the result of 40 years of work by Rumi. He also wrote a shorter Diwan and a prose treatise entitled Fihi Ma Fihi (What Is Within Is Within) .
Rumi was a poet of the first rank. His style was simple and colloquial. His tales possessed diverse qualities: variety and originality, dignity and picturesqueness, learning and charm, depth of feeling and thought. The Mathnawi is no doubt very disjointed; the stories follow one another in no apparent order. But it is filled with lyrical inspiration. Each small tale may be read separately, and one cannot help but be impressed with its succinctness.
As a philosopher, Rumi is less original than as a poet. His subject is Sufism, expressed with glowing enthusiasm. But it is not systematically expounded, and lyrical fervor seems to run rampant. But it can be said that just as Ibn Arabi summed up and gathered into a single system all that had been said on mysticism in Arabic before him, so Rumi in his famous Mathnawi comes the closest to this in Persian.
As with other Sufi poets, many Neoplatonic ideas abound in Rumi's writing. Ties to Christian mysticism can also be found. But in the last analysis, Rumi was a Moslem of very special interest. He was philanthropic and strongly emotional, and his writings seem easily to fit in with the excitement of the dance of the whirling dervishes.

http: //www.answers.com/topic/rumi-jalal-al-din


With Ted Sheridan
Trade Martin Howlin Dervish
Poem hunter support supplying the dough
This December to the Mevlani
Festival in Konya Turkey
I shall go
Dancing away
Moving my soul with the flow
Sometimes fast sometimes slow
My mind my cosmic consciousness
In a glow
My bare feet squeezing the earths primal
Energy from head to toe
My silhouette of a Seeker
Not touching the ground below
Overriding the crest of a mindless plateau
The beauty that Allah on me will bestow
Including my white friends all in a tow


dedicated to huuuuuuuu howling dervish

Love poetry Hate racism

Jallianwala Bagh Remembered - A Heinous Racist Act


Jallianwala Bagh Remembered - A Heinous Racist Act
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

photo wkipedia

The Jallianwala Bagh Massacre, also known as the Amritsar Massacre, was named after the Jallianwala Bagh (Garden) in the northern Indian city of Amritsar, where, on April 13,1919, British Indian Army soldiers under the command of Brigadier Reginald Dyer opened fire on an unarmed gathering of men, women and children. The firing lasted about 10 minutes and 1650 rounds were fired, or 33 rounds per soldier. Official (Raj) sources placed the casualties at 379. According to private sources, the number was over 1000, with more than 2000 wounded, [1] and Civil Surgeon Dr. Smith indicated that they were over 1800.[2]
After World War I had ended in 1918 Britain and other imperial powers were weakened. The costs of the protracted war in both money and manpower were staggering. In India, long the jewel in the crown of the British Empire, Indians were restless for independence, having contributed heavily to the war efforts in both money and men. Over 74,000 Indian soldiers had died, more than the men lost from either Australia or Canada; both former colonies enjoying greater rights. Indians were expecting, if not freedom, at least more say in their governance, so the Indian Nationalist movement was marked by a clear domination of the more extreme rather than the moderate. In this charged atmosphere, Britain chose not to reward India for her service, but rather to demonstrate that they still commanded authority over India and that they were ready to use force to preserve their rule.
On April 10,1919, a protest was held at the residence of the Deputy Commissioner of Amritsar, a city in Punjab, a large province in the north-western part of the then undivided India. The demonstration was held to demand the release of two popular leaders of the Indian Independence Movement, Satya Pal and Saifuddin Kitchlew, who had been earlier arrested on account of their protests against the controversial Rowlatt Act that had been then imposed by the British government. The crowd was fired on by a military picket.
The firing set off a chain of violence. Later in the day, several banks and other government buildings, including the Town Hall and the railway station were attacked and set on fire. The violence continued to escalate, culminating in the deaths of at least 5 Europeans, including government employees and civilians. There was retaliatory firing on the crowd from the military several times during the day, and between 8 and 20 people were killed.
For the next two days the city of Amritsar was quiet, but violence continued in other parts of the Punjab. Railway lines were cut, telegraph posts destroyed, government buildings burnt, and three Europeans were killed. By April 13, the British government had decided to place most of the Punjab under martial law. The legislation placed restrictions on a number of freedoms, including freedom of assembly, banning gatherings of more than four people [3]
On April 13, thousands of people gathered in the Jallianwala Bagh near Golden Temple in Amritsar, on Baisakhi, both a harvest and Sikh religious new year. It was in 1699 during this festival that the last Sikh Guru, Guru Gobind Singh created the Khalsa adding the name Singh or Kaur to every Sikh's name. So for more than two hundred years this annual festival had drawn thousands from all over India. People had traveled for days, before the ban on assembly.
A group of 90 Indian Army soldiers marched to the park accompanied by two armoured cars. The vehicles were unable to enter the Bagh through the narrow entrance.
The Jallianwala Bagh, or garden, was bounded on all sides by houses and buildings and had few narrow entrances, most of which were kept permanently locked. Since there was only one open exit except for the one already blocked by the troops, people desperately tried to climb the walls of the park. Many jumped into a well inside the compound to escape from the bullets. A plaque in the monument says that 120 bodies were plucked out of the well.
As a result of the firing, hundreds of people were killed and thousands were injured. Official records put the figures at 379 killed (337 men,41 boys and a six week old baby) and 200 injured, though the actual figure is hotly disputed to this day. The wounded could not be moved from where they had fallen, as a curfew had been declared.
Back in his headquarters Dyer reported to his superiors that he had been 'confronted by a revolutionary army, ' and had been obliged 'to teach a moral lesson to the Punjab.'
In a telegram sent to Dyer, British Lieutenant-Governor of Punjab, Sir Michael O'Dwyer wrote: 'Your action is correct. Lieutenant Governor approves.'[4] Many Englishmen in India, as well as the British press, defended Dyer as the man who had saved British pride and honour. The Morning Post opened a fund for Dyer, and contributions poured in. An American woman donated 100 pounds, adding 'I fear for the British women there now that Dyer has been dismissed.'
O'Dwyer requested that martial law be imposed upon Amritsar and other areas; this was granted by the Viceroy, Lord Chelmsford, after the massacre.
Dyer was called to appear before the Hunter Commission, a commission of inquiry into the massacre that was ordered to convene by Secretary of State for India Edwin Montagu, in late 1919. Dyer admitted before the commission that he came to know about the meeting at the Jallianwala Bagh at 12: 40 hours that day but took no steps to prevent it. He stated that he had gone to the Bagh with the deliberate intention of opening fire if he found a crowd assembled there.
'I think it quite possible that I could have dispersed the crowd without firing but they would have come back again and laughed, and I would have made, what I consider, a fool of myself.' — Dyer's response to the Hunter Commission Enquiry.
Dyer said he would have used his machine guns if he could have got them into the enclosure, but these were mounted on armoured cars. He said he did not stop firing when the crowd began to disperse because he thought it was his duty to keep firing until the crowd dispersed, and that a little firing would do no good.
He confessed that he did not take any steps to tend to the wounded after the firing. 'Certainly not. It was not my job. Hospitals were open and they could have gone there, ' was his response.
In the storm of outrage which followed the release of the Hunter Report in 1920, Dyer was placed on the inactive list and his rank reverted to Colonel since he was no longer in command of a Brigade. The then Commander-in-Chief stated that Dyer would no longer be offered employment in India. Dyer was also in very poor health, and so he was sent home to England on a hospital ship.
Some senior British officers applauded his suppression of 'another Indian Mutiny'. The House of Lords passed a measure commending him. The House of Commons, however, censured him; in the debate Winston Churchill claimed: 'The incident in Jallian Wala Bagh was an extraordinary event, a monstrous event, an event which stands in singular and sinister isolation'. Dyer's action was condemned worldwide. He was officially censured by the British Government and resigned in 1920.
However, many in Britain did not condemn Dyer's actions, some labelling him the 'Saviour of the Punjab'. The Morning Post started a sympathy fund for Dyer and received over £26,000. Dyer was presented with a memorial book inscribed with the names of well-wishers. Jawaharlal Nehru, in his autobiography, said he overheard, from his curtained sleeping booth on a night train from Amritsar to Delhi, a military officer in loud voice to another 'pointing out how he had the whole town at his mercy and he had felt like reducing the rebellious city to a heap of ashes, but he took pity on it and refrained.' It turned out to be Dyer on his way to Delhi after the Hunter Committee meeting. In Delhi, Dyer descended from the train in pyjamas with bright pink stripes and a dressing gown.[5] Nehru also remarked he heard soldiers discussing how the actions taken were a good thing because they would 'teach the bloody browns a lesson.'
In India the massacre evoked feelings of deep anguish and anger. It catalysed the freedom movement in the Punjab against British rule and paved the way for Mahatma Gandhi's Non-Cooperation Movement against the British in 1920. It was also motivation for a number of other revolutionaries, including Bhagat Singh. The Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore returned his knighthood to the King-Emperor in protest. The massacre ultimately became an important catalyst of the Indian independence movement.

http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jallianwala_Bagh_Massacre


History of hate
The hapless victims remember
The cruel oppressors and their genealogy
Born and unborn tend to forget
The Butcher of Amritsar
Of the British Empire
Its evil silhouette
Spawned a generation
Of racists without any regret

Divide and rule
Was their policy
Causing a rift
Between the mandir
And the minaret
Racism is alive and kicking
Not just in history books
But on poetry sites on the internet
To freedom of human values
It is a great threat
Assassinating characters
From the living room into the kitchenette
The British if you remind
Them of their sordid
Imperialistic butt kicking past
They do get upset
Unapologetic
Their forefathers
Who traded in
Blood tears and sweat

Love poetry Hate racism

A TOAST TO VICTOR OF INDIA


A TOAST TO VICTOR OF INDIA
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

photo courtesy
www.benettontalk.com/ohio-child-molester.jpg



victor of india you are true son of the soil..
we will make stew for our Indian hound
which might take a while
wilkinson get ready as his balls we boil..
for every bullet you shoot
you get shot by recoil
go take help from English racist poets and toil
the two are out to take your white ass
on your rectum you better
put mustard oil..
the interior in spite of your reluctant sphincter
we are going to maul and spoil

Andrew Mark Wilkinson RIP


Andrew Mark Wilkinson RIP
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

photo courtesy
www.rit.edu/~andpph/photofile-b/condom-sound-1.jpg

andrew mark wilkinson
poet pervert
poem hunter
cartoon court jester
is not just gay
but also a self confessed pedophiliac
and a child molester
from his evil white flesh
his balls sequestered
on the soul of english poetry
Cancerously his hate for Indians
and niggers that has overblown and festered.
When he chokes on my poems
And dies his body will be cremated
At Leicester wrapped in a winding sheet
Shaped like a condom
Made of flammable polyester
plaese dont shed tears
dear esther
we know he did not pay you for the last screw
this stinghy miser fraudelent con of a confidence
trickster...

FOR VICTOR OF INDIA

POETRY IS DEAD


POETRY IS DEAD
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

She could have hung herself from the fan
She could have thrown herself in the River Thames
But she chose to cut herself with a rusty old
Wilkinson Blade they said
Her wrists pouring lava crimson red
Like a running stream she bled
Her cheeks flushed her eyes
Ponds tears
Of aquamarine instead
Yes poetry had killed herself
Poetry in the land of the English Poets
Lay dead
A requiem
An English poet
Had killed English poetry
And into the darkness had fled
Michael Shepherd, David Hazell
TMcH Howlin Dervish
A handful of good English poets
Teary eyed with bowed head
Gathered around her body
Lying motionless at the morgue
No next of kith or kin
Just the marble platform
Serving as her stony bed
Poetry silent among the living Dead

Love poetry Hate racism

Complete Arsehole -Andrew Mark Wilkinson


Complete Arsehole -Andrew Mark Wilkinson
Originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1

photo courtesy
www.bbc.co.uk/collective/dnaimages/gallery/2/sarahlucas/6...


While you have thoughts
about servicing
my old lady
which is alright
as you dont even have a dick
you dickless
testicle less
phenomena
even a hole
in the wall
you would be able to excite
little children yes
you might want to
molest
you English Drag Knight
thousand miles away
to your fucked
imaginations delight
please make
sure your wife opens her legs
when the black chai wala
tea man from Mumbai
pushes it in tight
after all she hates
your little dick
cabonised chalk white
that wears glasses
to find a passage to england
between her legs
pubic diasater
wild mangroves
other side of midnight
as a poet wilkinson
rusty old blades you
suck trying to get up
from blows
you white ant
termite
punks like you
kids in my alley
blindfolded could fight
Andrew Mark Wilkinson
White Unwashed Arsehole Uptight
see your face in the mirror
you ragamuffin
starved English Bastard
Racist Pervert
you do need a bite
go back to your
English Nursery Rhymes
you seminally
spilled out Bromide
duck you dickhead
before you take another
poetic hit
from my telescopic sight
Rusty old blades
shaving the hair of
his armpits
infested by
red spider mite
a poem a day project
from me to you
to blast you out
poem hunter
with my
poem dynamite
Grow up chicken shit
before you write more poetry
go fly a kite

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