Sunday, August 5, 2007

Stick In The Ass RIP

Dear Firoze...unfortunately quite a few Poem Hunter poets have sticks up their asses...don''t let them bother you - you are unique and real and enjoyed by the ones who matter.

ask
Thank You


Early morning of youth
a fucked day such as this gone to waste
Some pissed assed pompous poets
Preposterously Pedagogic. after taste
Poem hunter an ant colony lambaste
Distance of time days longed to be remembered
Innocence of an abused childhood
Lonesome tears echoes in the night
By the mill one day in utter haste
Clear sounds of an anal penetration
Unchaste ….on fresh cut ass paste
A foolish act
One leg in the grave at the age 64
Multicolored words of a racist debased
Death will pay a visit putting end
To this pretentious unpoetic human distaste
Paths of memories completely erased
No more mountains to climb
No distance of time
No clear sounds
No more lonesome tears
Leaving this world
In a sea of darkness
A dead coffin of unwritten poems
Encased
Great American Poet
Your words on my poem
In very bad taste..
Walking down the memory road
Where you will live
Under a tombstone
A poet a poem
Food for worms
Human toxic poisonous racist waste

The Lord of the Seas Carter Road Ganesha

Just across the Carter Road promenade ,towards the sea,a man made rocky path leads to a platform where sits the Ganesha of Carter Road .Waves kiss his feet , foaming and frothing in delight, at high tide he is totally submerged only a saffron flag on a pole reminding you that he is there , giving the fishes their turn to see his divinity.
On Tuesday and Saturdays the ladies , the walkers the joggers pay obeisance to him, there is an Arti too.
This open air Ganesh is looked after the local fishermen from Khar Danda.
Story goes they were caught in a storm, and prayed out to him, and on reaching to the safety of the shores discovered this statue in the nets.
A few miracles later,the story spread word of mouth, and it wont be be far too long when a permanent structure comes up here with heavy clouted political patronage..
than the authorities will wake up from their slumber get a court order to demolish the structure, stay orders, fights, protests and everthing will fizzle out...
This part of the sea land comes under the Coastal authorities also known as CRZ..
As a photographer I try avoiding such situations , neither for nor against, my idea is show ritualism and the working of faith.
Today even bigger than God is the God of Politics that runs the country...sometimes ruins the country.
The fisherman catches crabs and is praying for a good catch.
I caught him just in time.

Unlearning Life From Crows

After he had fed the crows, time to leave, but this one crow may have been late for the party, and he is not scared of his birthright to demand , scavenge a hope where no hope exists..who knows the child might come up up with something.
I feel the crow is a very intelligent bird that uses its mind, I know crows that become friends with human beings, funny it is only the human being that finds it difficult to be friends with his own kind.
I was reading the Times of India a few days back a guy cut of his hand as sacrifice to Goddess Kali, on the other hand it talks of a mother stabbing her new born child several times with a sharp instrument and threw it in a garbage heap.. the doctors managed to save its life.. It lives.The mother was caught confessed that it was her ex paramours child and she had recently got married to another man and did not want this horrid human truth of two timing to come out.
I think one of the reasons God made all animals , birds insects reptiles of a similar specie look alike was to ridt his problem of sexual promiscuity, sexual repressiveness, sexual vulgarity, any one can do it to anyone no big deal, no marraiage no divorce no alimony and not having to share your husbands loot and your husbands bed memories or maybe bad memories with the divorce lawyer..
So next time you watch a guy feeding crows learn a lesson or two..share it with us cyberbirds..

Unlearning the Poetry of Life .

We are human.
Thank God for that.
We shoot pictures of our world , we try to spread our warmth , our woven tales beyond cybernetic shores.. thereby touching a chord..a picture becomes a message of Hope.
It touches heals and binds.Those whom we never knew become through the aegis of our photography our contacts and our new friends.
Photography has no time for heartburning Hate.As an instrument that plays music soundlesssly creating ripples , yet breaking through barriers of sound and speed is the convulsing force of photography.
To feel this aspect of Photography you must feel Poetry of life as it unwinds every morning when we wake up from our world of slept out dreams.
You need words thoughts to make a poem, pictures you need nothing just the inner light of your vision.. whatever you shoot.
Simplicity thy name is photography.
Photography simplifies , unconfused to the arithmetic of other sciences.
No doubt you need to know the basics but the rest comes as you go on burning pictures on the emulsion of your human soul.
I had a very nasty comment on my poem Fuck Off by an American poet , it hurts but you get used to it.. Poets are more viciously venomous than photographers in their Hate.
I know this for a fact being a Photo blogger for 24 months .
I learnt rapidly poetry and photography.
You write three lines you make a poem..
It is not necessary how it translates on the readers mind, actually a poet writes for himself, that he is read is because there are some poets who are better readers.. even though they have written nothing in their lives..
Americans who live on the top floor of lifes condominium love to throw their spit till it hits the guy on the sidewalk.. without realising you got to be nice to people on your way up as you always meet them on your way down..
Maybe I am wrong in my estimation but this is what I have seen, I with all my knowledge , with my experience still am unlearning photography.
I came to Flickrs to show case my pictures not my words , but habits die hard..
Here in the picture is religion, seen as a photographic faith, charity all human virtues being bestowed on the little child by a man who feeds crows each morning, he is a Catholic his wife died recently of Cancer, he searches for her ,her memories , the good times the bad times, the ups the downs, he feeds crows , I leave the rest as a metaphor of his angst , his raw wounds and unhealing pain.The child well all the lessons of life in a few crumbs..Here the Child is the Father of Man.
This is what photography and being human means to me.
The heaviness of scriptures , fire and brimstone, bigotry, terrorism , misplaced martyrdom I forget when I shoot a child.
Yes this child was feeding the crumbs to the crows.
I picked up a crumb that accidently fell at my feet and hastly popped it in my mouth.
I began Unlearning the Poetry of Life .

Fuck Off


Fuck Off
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
Fuck Off
Now you know how to greet fucked people on the net

who come to your picture post and pass shit comment
this is something I do resent
they just love to badger wont repent
mentally ill hell bent
cybernetic immoral police they represent
blocking them is the only tool
by flickrs well meant
but to a hardcore psychiatric ward
they should be sent
locked up forever the keys
thrown away in the sea
no need to relent
no more ill feelings to vent
no more messages
no more torment
a sample below I present

From: ozneson
Subject: Re: asshole
so what I thike that picture so bad that Iam not happy to see that
photo flickr . ps you shoot not put that picture on here it macks me
sike fuck you and you one ho is a pissed ass

From: ozneson
Subject: Re: asshole
fuck you it not me it is you are the one that is fuck up

So now you know what wont make a dent
a comment going off tangent
a blocked asshole ...US $47 WELL SPENT
but would have been better
to throw him in the deep sea
with his feet making love to cement
a short cut the best to circumvent
next morning breaking news event

Happy Birthday Yorrik


Postcard to Yorrik of Woolongong


Shot By a Master


Shot By a Master
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
This was shot by Mr KG Maheshwari.

Kamatipura Flea Market in Rains

This is a unique Friday flea market, Friday being the Muslim weekly holiday.This Market is run by Vagris of Gujrat descent.They roam the entire wek buying their wares from homes , which they sell here at the market.However what reaces here is junk as compaed to the good stuff that they sell directly to the antique dealers of Chor Bazar.At this Bazar people come from all parts of India..for everything amber , gemstones, lace, zari,electronics , paintings, cameras..
This market is close to the Hijda Cages and the red light area of Kamatipura.. a notorious prostitution den .
This market starts at 3 am shuts down by noon,, there is so much muck in the rains , that people brave this to search for a good deal.Because I do not wear footwear I used to avoid this Market.
I have got most of my 225 cameras from here , flash, movie cameras , old sepia toned pictures, pipes, hip flasks, stones...
My wife hates this market and the Internet too.
After my round at this market I would proceed to Chor Bazar.Since bout two months I have stopped going to both the markets.

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