you are far too negative
life means unliving
forget and forgive
before you die
you must relive
dont just take
learn also to give
to the queen of pain
bood that trickles from the brain
when i slash my forehead
for hussain
a soul that weeps
a tear dropp
blood stain
you are still in your cradle
you dont know pain
being sane
being insane
untruthful it may sound
but times even truth to be truthful
has to feign
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Iron in my Soul
rust to dust
encrust
libidinous longings
lipless lacklustreless lust
a perforated throat undying thirst
the bubble burst
if not ourselves
whom do we trust
for better or for worse
our shortcomings
of note in an
empty purse
a seminal drop of goodness
also a curse
the cradle
overshadowing a hearse
encrust
libidinous longings
lipless lacklustreless lust
a perforated throat undying thirst
the bubble burst
if not ourselves
whom do we trust
for better or for worse
our shortcomings
of note in an
empty purse
a seminal drop of goodness
also a curse
the cradle
overshadowing a hearse
Iron in our Blood …Shia Souls
indian parakeet
walks on embers of fire
fisticuffed barefeat
black clothes
my winding sheet
the winds
that beat my soul
ya hussain ya hussain
repeat
a whiff of karbala
in a pounding hearbeat
blood flowing
from my forehead
like a thought so sweet
inshallah
next moharram
at the Imams Roza
we will meet
a folder called
Yazidiyat
together we
will delete
a work without which
our mission
of hussainiyat
is not complete
ya ali ya ali
a victory cry
Iraqs Freedom
a drum beat
the imperialism
hegemony
of the oppressors
falling back in defeat
our shia angst
iron in our blood
flesh as concrete
walks on embers of fire
fisticuffed barefeat
black clothes
my winding sheet
the winds
that beat my soul
ya hussain ya hussain
repeat
a whiff of karbala
in a pounding hearbeat
blood flowing
from my forehead
like a thought so sweet
inshallah
next moharram
at the Imams Roza
we will meet
a folder called
Yazidiyat
together we
will delete
a work without which
our mission
of hussainiyat
is not complete
ya ali ya ali
a victory cry
Iraqs Freedom
a drum beat
the imperialism
hegemony
of the oppressors
falling back in defeat
our shia angst
iron in our blood
flesh as concrete
Is this Freedom of Expression
Mumbai bomb blast Mahim Station 11 th July 2006
Freedom of expression is fine
You don’t draw caricature s
Of the Holy Prophet and
Disrespect the Divine
Or Cartoons
on the sands of Karbala
in blood by shimr and yazid
was way out of line
a single Hussain
they could not outshine
Freedom of expression is fine
If I respect yours
and you respect mine
I don’t call you a pig
You don’t call me a swine
Man is mortal
Humanity
the most holiest Shrine
Freedom of expression is fine
But not bombs on human souls
No part of any godly design
Man to man
Through religious venom
Don’t malign
And lets live in peace
terror decline
helping each other
our human credentials define
a new hope for
our unborn children assign
freedom of expression is fine
if love and peace together combine
what is yours is also mine
a single world
good thoughts
good actions entwine
poem no 505
Freedom of expression is fine
You don’t draw caricature s
Of the Holy Prophet and
Disrespect the Divine
Or Cartoons
on the sands of Karbala
in blood by shimr and yazid
was way out of line
a single Hussain
they could not outshine
Freedom of expression is fine
If I respect yours
and you respect mine
I don’t call you a pig
You don’t call me a swine
Man is mortal
Humanity
the most holiest Shrine
Freedom of expression is fine
But not bombs on human souls
No part of any godly design
Man to man
Through religious venom
Don’t malign
And lets live in peace
terror decline
helping each other
our human credentials define
a new hope for
our unborn children assign
freedom of expression is fine
if love and peace together combine
what is yours is also mine
a single world
good thoughts
good actions entwine
poem no 505
Israel is a Terrorist State
Israel is a terrorist state
pretends to be David
sling shot hate
aircrafted armoured plate
as bombs that pound
a human fate ..
a new suicide bomber
every second you create
terrorism government
funded dictate
an old age trait
sit at a table dialogue and debate
an eye for an eye
terrorism wont abate
you can kill Palestinians
Hezbollah, Hamas,
but not the spirit
of a Palestine free state
political grammar
cause and effect recriminate
love and hate conjugate
a bait for
Arabian oilf fields
Israel thug bully,
American , Britain
powered
fuel for free
grab and get
on an empty
beggared plate
Imperialistic Hegemony
procreate
live and let live
the power of people
don’t desecrate
your youth disillusioned
in manali goa pushkar
their fate smoke and sedate
bhagwad gita, dalai lama
a new soul mate
a solitatary sabra
a lost tribe in India
in a north eastern state
pretends to be David
sling shot hate
aircrafted armoured plate
as bombs that pound
a human fate ..
a new suicide bomber
every second you create
terrorism government
funded dictate
an old age trait
sit at a table dialogue and debate
an eye for an eye
terrorism wont abate
you can kill Palestinians
Hezbollah, Hamas,
but not the spirit
of a Palestine free state
political grammar
cause and effect recriminate
love and hate conjugate
a bait for
Arabian oilf fields
Israel thug bully,
American , Britain
powered
fuel for free
grab and get
on an empty
beggared plate
Imperialistic Hegemony
procreate
live and let live
the power of people
don’t desecrate
your youth disillusioned
in manali goa pushkar
their fate smoke and sedate
bhagwad gita, dalai lama
a new soul mate
a solitatary sabra
a lost tribe in India
in a north eastern state
It Is Difficult To Know What To Say
It Is Difficult To Know What To Say
No.
Please dont say.
An epic in real life
corrupted DVDs that dont play.
I am emotionally bankrupt
I had to move away.
Liquidated tears..
nothing , nothing to give away.
I wont ever come in your way.
Humanly hope inhumanly pray.
I am bald ..so hair wont turn grey.
A child I am, love is childs play.
Adults get married have children and stray.
I will love you forever ..just die for today.
Yes babes,
Its difficult to know what to say.
Your silence an arrow..
My deer heart it will slay.
Meet, tenderloin .
You dont have to pay.
One day perhaps you will learn
What to say..
And I from your world
Would have gone far away.
This is old poetry old picture , the chair is still there after almost 20 months emotionless , at Waroda Road Bandra close to Jeff Caterers .
It mocks me saying you cant take anything away from me
No.
Please dont say.
An epic in real life
corrupted DVDs that dont play.
I am emotionally bankrupt
I had to move away.
Liquidated tears..
nothing , nothing to give away.
I wont ever come in your way.
Humanly hope inhumanly pray.
I am bald ..so hair wont turn grey.
A child I am, love is childs play.
Adults get married have children and stray.
I will love you forever ..just die for today.
Yes babes,
Its difficult to know what to say.
Your silence an arrow..
My deer heart it will slay.
Meet, tenderloin .
You dont have to pay.
One day perhaps you will learn
What to say..
And I from your world
Would have gone far away.
This is old poetry old picture , the chair is still there after almost 20 months emotionless , at Waroda Road Bandra close to Jeff Caterers .
It mocks me saying you cant take anything away from me
its Better to be Saif than to be Sorry
saif from the age of 8 wanted to marry
a thought at his age quite contrary..
now also his granma
his aunts
in lucknow are looking out
for a mate
arranged marriage
is part of his fate
samiya will endorse
the chioce
i hope its not too late
saif who dearly loves me
but hates me for my poor taste
my bare feet walk post haste
he got rid of my dread locks
distate he did underrate
diana my dreadlock lady
he called her Dayan..
many a times he did
with his venom bait..
saif has never been in love
has never had a date
whom he marries
will be his soulmate..
this is the upbringing
of his mother
i update.
saif is my 24 old son..
poem no 965
a thought at his age quite contrary..
now also his granma
his aunts
in lucknow are looking out
for a mate
arranged marriage
is part of his fate
samiya will endorse
the chioce
i hope its not too late
saif who dearly loves me
but hates me for my poor taste
my bare feet walk post haste
he got rid of my dread locks
distate he did underrate
diana my dreadlock lady
he called her Dayan..
many a times he did
with his venom bait..
saif has never been in love
has never had a date
whom he marries
will be his soulmate..
this is the upbringing
of his mother
i update.
saif is my 24 old son..
poem no 965
its ok i understand
i have not forgotten u m just busy 2 day
a punishment a silence that love has to pay
each time you come like Cinderella dance ..dont stay
just runaway..gestureless my thoughts betray
me gaping into nothingness no words to say
every second away from you does outweigh
me clinging to unreality my feet of clay
living in Mumbai …touching dreams in USA.
a poetic prison nostalgically reminding me
of a guantanamo bay….
leashed like a tortured emotion ..learning
to love live and obey…
since the time I met you
me my life in disarray…
telepathically in an inbox I convey..
metaphorically
without hurting your sentiments my pain portray
this was a stupid moment of my madness falling limbless in akimbo..hunter who became a prey.
never fall in love with poets just read their poetry comment move along...within the parameters of your punctuated personality dont stray ....beware of games people play...especially medusa haired poets who ensnare in your own leopard lair...even a poets love does outwear .
a punishment a silence that love has to pay
each time you come like Cinderella dance ..dont stay
just runaway..gestureless my thoughts betray
me gaping into nothingness no words to say
every second away from you does outweigh
me clinging to unreality my feet of clay
living in Mumbai …touching dreams in USA.
a poetic prison nostalgically reminding me
of a guantanamo bay….
leashed like a tortured emotion ..learning
to love live and obey…
since the time I met you
me my life in disarray…
telepathically in an inbox I convey..
metaphorically
without hurting your sentiments my pain portray
this was a stupid moment of my madness falling limbless in akimbo..hunter who became a prey.
never fall in love with poets just read their poetry comment move along...within the parameters of your punctuated personality dont stray ....beware of games people play...especially medusa haired poets who ensnare in your own leopard lair...even a poets love does outwear .
Jesus Christ Super Star
Jesus Christ
Super star
Loves
Chor bazar
From the hearts
Of those he loves
He is not very far
Still betrayed
Sold for 30 pesos
Of silver
At a flea market on par
Framed with wounds
Spiritual scars ,
acoustic accusations
sounds bizarre
a honest truth
broken strings
a heart broken guitar
Super star
Loves
Chor bazar
From the hearts
Of those he loves
He is not very far
Still betrayed
Sold for 30 pesos
Of silver
At a flea market on par
Framed with wounds
Spiritual scars ,
acoustic accusations
sounds bizarre
a honest truth
broken strings
a heart broken guitar
jesus on the cross
segregated spirituality
serrated spirituality
is a business based on profit and loss
much was to be made in future years
coffers to be filled
a rock that was wrongly billed
they conspired
untired
the good the bad and the ugly
nailed him to the cross
yes boss..
net profit minus gross..
truth belching
salvation
from the mouth of a horse
three heads on a platter
all emitted from one source
the cresent the star and the cross
fighting against each other
humans bound by
remorse ... sprituality
measured by force..
humanity a river dead and dying
as time and tide
change the course
a helpless god
while his agents
by more killings
death and pestilence
a new world order
Peace reinforce
serrated spirituality
is a business based on profit and loss
much was to be made in future years
coffers to be filled
a rock that was wrongly billed
they conspired
untired
the good the bad and the ugly
nailed him to the cross
yes boss..
net profit minus gross..
truth belching
salvation
from the mouth of a horse
three heads on a platter
all emitted from one source
the cresent the star and the cross
fighting against each other
humans bound by
remorse ... sprituality
measured by force..
humanity a river dead and dying
as time and tide
change the course
a helpless god
while his agents
by more killings
death and pestilence
a new world order
Peace reinforce
Now don’t ask me why the Wahhabis hate the Shias
Karbala a world of truth
A supreme sacrifice
A head decapitated
Tillawate Koran
A pledge on a spear
Faith rising
Out of a drop of tear
From time memorial
To destroy this aspect
They did engneeer
But alas !
Karbala won’t just disappear
Maligning truth
Distorting truth with lies
They spend petro dollars
Persevere
From burning fires
From man made chaos
Karbala reappears
Ya Hussain a souvenir
Words without borders
No frontier
Karbala
Within the soul of
India in an unborn Shia.
Now don’t ask me
Why the Wahhabis hate the Shias?
Greater than the threat
Of American hegemony
Greater threat than Israeli air bombs
A message of Hussainiyat
As an Elixir
A thought sincere
Oops fuck Taqqaiya
Beating our chests
Cutting our foreheads
Azadri E Hussain
A message that we persevere
He gave his head, but did not put his hand into the hands of Yazid. Verily, Husayn is the foundation of la ilaha illa Allah. Husayn is king and the king of kings. Husayn himself is Islam and the shield of Islam. Though he gave his head (for Islam) but never pledged Yazid. Truly Husayn is the founder of "There is no Deity except Allah."
Shah ast Hussain, Badshah ast Hussain,
Deen ast Hussain, Deen Panah ast Hussain,
Sar dad, na dad dast, dar dast-e-yazeed,
Haqaa key binaey La ila ast Hussain
Hussain is the Master, Hussain is the King,
Hussain is Faith, Hussain is Refuge for the Faith,
He gave his head but not his hand in Yazeed's hand
Verily Hussain is the foundation of La'Illah.
With these lines our intentions our beliefs
All the more clear …
Yes Hussain and Hussainyat for us is far too dear
A supreme sacrifice
A head decapitated
Tillawate Koran
A pledge on a spear
Faith rising
Out of a drop of tear
From time memorial
To destroy this aspect
They did engneeer
But alas !
Karbala won’t just disappear
Maligning truth
Distorting truth with lies
They spend petro dollars
Persevere
From burning fires
From man made chaos
Karbala reappears
Ya Hussain a souvenir
Words without borders
No frontier
Karbala
Within the soul of
India in an unborn Shia.
Now don’t ask me
Why the Wahhabis hate the Shias?
Greater than the threat
Of American hegemony
Greater threat than Israeli air bombs
A message of Hussainiyat
As an Elixir
A thought sincere
Oops fuck Taqqaiya
Beating our chests
Cutting our foreheads
Azadri E Hussain
A message that we persevere
He gave his head, but did not put his hand into the hands of Yazid. Verily, Husayn is the foundation of la ilaha illa Allah. Husayn is king and the king of kings. Husayn himself is Islam and the shield of Islam. Though he gave his head (for Islam) but never pledged Yazid. Truly Husayn is the founder of "There is no Deity except Allah."
Shah ast Hussain, Badshah ast Hussain,
Deen ast Hussain, Deen Panah ast Hussain,
Sar dad, na dad dast, dar dast-e-yazeed,
Haqaa key binaey La ila ast Hussain
Hussain is the Master, Hussain is the King,
Hussain is Faith, Hussain is Refuge for the Faith,
He gave his head but not his hand in Yazeed's hand
Verily Hussain is the foundation of La'Illah.
With these lines our intentions our beliefs
All the more clear …
Yes Hussain and Hussainyat for us is far too dear
Internet Wires of Despair
I dont know whether I shoud
take a break
internet wires
matrix of a modum
obtruding words
poems as orgasms
that I fake
to be a poet for poetrys sake
unecessary sounds
that I make
sleepless in silence
a empty canvas that
I gaze
moving in and out of a mindless maze
my condemned thoughts refabricated
that I rephrase
searching for solitude
within my space
a few comments
that sound as praise
a few comments on my malaise
I will move away from the keyboard
one of these days
shooting pictures that I raise
shooting words just a phase
memories moonwalking in a daze
take a break
internet wires
matrix of a modum
obtruding words
poems as orgasms
that I fake
to be a poet for poetrys sake
unecessary sounds
that I make
sleepless in silence
a empty canvas that
I gaze
moving in and out of a mindless maze
my condemned thoughts refabricated
that I rephrase
searching for solitude
within my space
a few comments
that sound as praise
a few comments on my malaise
I will move away from the keyboard
one of these days
shooting pictures that I raise
shooting words just a phase
memories moonwalking in a daze
An Unlove Poem
love is a silence of the morgue
needs no words
featherless flights of fancy
of dying birds
love a dead meat sold
by street vendors
to dead panned
cybernetic nerds
poetic pestilence
of pompous turds
needs no words
featherless flights of fancy
of dying birds
love a dead meat sold
by street vendors
to dead panned
cybernetic nerds
poetic pestilence
of pompous turds
Fearless Eyes of Faith
In one Hand the Holy Koran
The Other Hand The Ahle Baith
reflected in the Shia Childs eyes
Islam heart bound to True Faith
The Other Hand The Ahle Baith
reflected in the Shia Childs eyes
Islam heart bound to True Faith
I am a photographer poemhunter whore
wantonly
waddling
wall papered
wall to wall
wordless
war mongrel
wastrel
wait listed
waiting outside
her trembling door
waterlogged
water tight
womb
of her
water spouting
womanhood
my unwordiness
worsens
what for
questions that
I have
no answers for
wrestling
wriggling
writhing
withdrawing
wobbling
worm wooded
wretchedness
worn out
wizardry
her wickidness
unlike before
sitting here
in the eye of a needle
threaded to my
tailoring store
like cinderella
she did dance
a blog of a goddess
pirouetting
on my shop floor
dashed hopes and a dashed decor
cybernetic love choked disappointments
of a poet photographer and a poemhunter whore
prostituting poetry..rednecked
turned back
while the reader takes a snore
seminal stains as words
on the bedsheet of my consciousness
through pictures that i have no use for
poem hunter pompous poets
you can find them unread
at a discount store
to lisbeth
Comment about: firoze shakir
Member: Foster Blaine
Comment: Nothing to be found here; criticism and complaints with no viable alternatives. This is exploitation of the word poetry.. Prostituion awaits the reader.
'I am game- legs spread.. come ye the chosen ones..'
waddling
wall papered
wall to wall
wordless
war mongrel
wastrel
wait listed
waiting outside
her trembling door
waterlogged
water tight
womb
of her
water spouting
womanhood
my unwordiness
worsens
what for
questions that
I have
no answers for
wrestling
wriggling
writhing
withdrawing
wobbling
worm wooded
wretchedness
worn out
wizardry
her wickidness
unlike before
sitting here
in the eye of a needle
threaded to my
tailoring store
like cinderella
she did dance
a blog of a goddess
pirouetting
on my shop floor
dashed hopes and a dashed decor
cybernetic love choked disappointments
of a poet photographer and a poemhunter whore
prostituting poetry..rednecked
turned back
while the reader takes a snore
seminal stains as words
on the bedsheet of my consciousness
through pictures that i have no use for
poem hunter pompous poets
you can find them unread
at a discount store
to lisbeth
Comment about: firoze shakir
Member: Foster Blaine
Comment: Nothing to be found here; criticism and complaints with no viable alternatives. This is exploitation of the word poetry.. Prostituion awaits the reader.
'I am game- legs spread.. come ye the chosen ones..'
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Shah-e-Mardan Sher-e-Yazdan Quwat-e-Parwardigar Lafata Ila Ali La Saif Ila Zulfiqar , originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1 ....
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Dargah of Hazrat Syed Ali Mira Datar Unava Gujrat , a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr. HAZRAT SYED ALI MIRA DATAR'S G...
