Thursday, August 30, 2007

Samiya the Terror


Samiya the Terror
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
Samiya the terror
Inhabits my house
Fiery fires love cannot douse
She and me ever fighting
She capricious Tom Cat
And me machine gunned
Mickey Mouse
With my eunuch poetry
She has a sickening grouse
A cause and effect
that my wife Afshaan
Too will espouse
Asif and Saif my sons
She will rouse
And I rush
To the internet
Me my C words
F words
Layered
metaphors
playing hide and seek
monitor keyboard
my finger touch mouse

unlearning photography-yogic kundalini

screw shutter speed
aperture on your
pictorial minds coral reef
photography is poetry
not a technical task
Unlearning photography
Is what I believe
Through your
yogic kundalini
releasing the serpent
wrapped within you
You do achieve
When you decipher
Pictorial pain pathos
Unmarried to grief
I believe as a photographer
You have written a poem
turned a new leaf

Passing Mirrors


Passing Mirrors
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
passing mirrors ,
lives
reflecting mirrors of paint
one side the sinner
the other side the saint
good bad and evil
embedded in pain
a dimensionally flattened plaint..
art shows itself differently
in its own restraint..
this is poetic wisdom
not a complaint..




Will Barber (howtown, texas United States; Male; 58
Well after I had complained about not being able to reach your blog, I did indeed reach one. I dearly loved the sights of Krishna's birthday. One of the god-forms to which I pay devotion is Krishna. The Alexandrian invaders of India immediately identified him with Pan. I, being Christian, identified him with Jesus. The picture of the small boy dressed as Krishna was priceless, and the pictures of the pyramid - wow! what a proclamation of cooperation (and fun, and strength of devotion.)

I was puzzled by the reference to eunuchs. Is the deliberate removal of gonads still practiced in India, or is that a remnant of the past? Some Western choral works are strangely diminished by the assignment of 'castrati' parts to sopranos, of course. I am just curious, and forgive me if my questions seem rude.

The poem you sent me via email was disturbing, yet rich in imagery. I think of certain temples in India, richly carved in erotic scenes - and served by ascetic cults.

A story told by one traveler to India greatly impressed me. He saw everywhere the symbol of the lingam-yoni. He was amazed that such a sexual symbol should be so universal. At one shrine, an old Indian man told him he could tell the traveler of the hidden significance of the symbol. Fascinated, the traveler asked the secret. The ancient Hindu whispered in his ear - 'You see, it is a penis and vagina! ' or words to that effect. The old man laughed and laughed.

Sometimes, I think we live in different worlds, according to where the sun may happen to shine!

Love,
Will

This is an old post I sincerely miss hearing from Mr Will Barber a great Poem hunter poet and a greater human being.With love for all humanity.

Passing Mirrors


Passing Mirrors
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
passing mirrors ,
lives
reflecting mirrors of paint
one side the sinner
the other side the saint
good bad and evil
embedded in pain
a dimensionally flattened plaint..
art shows itself differently
in its own restraint..
this is poetic wisdom
not a complaint..




Will Barber (howtown, texas United States; Male; 58
Well after I had complained about not being able to reach your blog, I did indeed reach one. I dearly loved the sights of Krishna's birthday. One of the god-forms to which I pay devotion is Krishna. The Alexandrian invaders of India immediately identified him with Pan. I, being Christian, identified him with Jesus. The picture of the small boy dressed as Krishna was priceless, and the pictures of the pyramid - wow! what a proclamation of cooperation (and fun, and strength of devotion.)

I was puzzled by the reference to eunuchs. Is the deliberate removal of gonads still practiced in India, or is that a remnant of the past? Some Western choral works are strangely diminished by the assignment of 'castrati' parts to sopranos, of course. I am just curious, and forgive me if my questions seem rude.

The poem you sent me via email was disturbing, yet rich in imagery. I think of certain temples in India, richly carved in erotic scenes - and served by ascetic cults.

A story told by one traveler to India greatly impressed me. He saw everywhere the symbol of the lingam-yoni. He was amazed that such a sexual symbol should be so universal. At one shrine, an old Indian man told him he could tell the traveler of the hidden significance of the symbol. Fascinated, the traveler asked the secret. The ancient Hindu whispered in his ear - 'You see, it is a penis and vagina! ' or words to that effect. The old man laughed and laughed.

Sometimes, I think we live in different worlds, according to where the sun may happen to shine!

Love,
Will

This is an old post I sincerely miss hearing from Mr Will Barber a great Poem hunter poet and a greater human being.With love for all humanity.

Immobile Sleep


Immobile Sleep
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
Shuttered Sorrow
Immobile sleep
reliance ..
alliance
science
death
defiance
very cheap
broken promises
the body makes
the soul cant keep
tears that wonder
why they weep..
dwarved legs
another world
a stumbling leap
Man a Tombstone
on a refuse heap.

Tu Hijda Namard Hai

Behamdardi se kaha waqt ne
Mujhse
Tu hijda namard hai
Tu bhagti hue tanhai
Lahu se tapkte hue
Seene ka dard hai
Dabuche hue
Daraye hue
Dabdabati zindagi
zhunjlati huee
ankhon
ki sarhad hai
sar jhuka
aur dekh upar
aasmam ke sitaron
ke dilon ki roshni
keh rahi hai
ya khuda tu hee
kulhu wala ho ahad hai.

dedicated to my androgynously amorphous soul ..

Peace


Peace
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
Peace
Living in the clouds of my subconsciousness
giving my nascent creativity a sudden release
thank you goddess ..supreme within the
choked voice of my depair my goddess of Peace
at the trembling door of your desires
me and my ungodly aspirations on bent knees
poetic fancy like little love birds cooing on trees
to beg her attention droppings of my wisdom
that she seldom sees, my goddess in the
perfumed garden of her mind , the trees ,
lovebirds , honey and bees..
every written first time bitten word gives
evidence of my love and my pleas..

Beware Racists on the Prowl

My Buzznet site was hacked into recently with a lot venomous hate, the person posted gay pictures porn, got me into trouble in my hometown,I am a Shia , finally I deleted both my buzznet sites and also ended deleting 11000 blogs in a single night such is the power of Hate , that I am also experiencing all over again at Poemhunter , a manic man bent on stamping my poetic voice.
Racism in poetry is a very dangerous trend if left unchecked.It has to be weeded out before it infects the entire poetic plantation..


Hacks into my Buzznet site
Under my web faced ass
A fire ignite
Posts a picture of a gay guy
Calls me gay online
Gay bitches shouts
Colors my web page pink
Another unaided hyperlink
Through my cyberspace
Out and out
Cybernetic fascism

And its a scary thought
an evangelist conspiracy
a taliban plot
If he sends American hate mail
As photographer no1
Like Gautam Buddhi
I too locked up
In American jail
Yahoo finance board
Misplaced martyrdom
Cybernetic Terrorism

Hacks the soul
of my thought and belief
no online relief
this cybernetic thief
gives me grief
my Buzznet account
frozen that
I did delete
Me and my barefeet
Cybernetic Aphorism

My multicolored
Splotchy Brindled
Pictorial Poetic,
Designer ass
Untravelled Khyber Pass
Stamped Revamped
Immigration Check required
Green Card inspired,
Bejewelled attired
Custom cleared ,
Genius undeclared
Cybernetic Racism..

that even in Australia
you cant bypass
if you travel to Tweed Head
they will stamp
love with hot tongs
on your multi colored
dusky down ass
such is cybernetic hate
both on mind and mass
if god forbid you are a muslim
they will kill you with
poisonous gas
ausczwitz style
but with more class

Cobbled Sleep


Cobbled Sleep
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
The Drunken Creep
Cobbled Sleep
at home
his wife and children weep
he made a sober promise
he wont keep
he is pissed out
in his somnolence
his urine
from his pants does seep
his salary pick pocketed
while he is asleep
a garbage
human junk heap
what you sow
is what you reap
drunken doldrums
alcoholic dreams
at home
the family the shouts
the cries and impotent screams
the unpaid house rent, school fees,
a mistress holed up
at peela house in the cages
that someone else
in his absence will please
a cockless existence
testicled talk tease
final solution
his neck, the noose
his cirrhosis ravaged soul
hung to dry from the trees
an empty bottle
sepulchral
soundless
country liquor
wont appease

Vande Matram Kehna Hai.

Zindagi ek durghatna hai
Train ke paaiyon ke neeche
Train ki seaton ke neeche
Train ki patriyon pe seeche
Bomb blast mein marna hai
Hindu khoon aur Musalman Khoon
ko ek hi jagah
Idd Mubarak Diwali Mubarak
Behtey hue
Simatna hai
Gale lipatna hai
Katkar dilon ko
Judna hai
Khaufnak zahar ko
Nigalna hai
Aur mar kar
Isi bahane Hindustani
Ganga aur Jamuna
Jaise behna hai
Desh ki Izmat
Desh ka Gehna hai
Apas mein
Ane wale kal ko bh
Vande Matram
kehna hai

Zindagi mein aisi bhi ghadiyan aati hain

Zindagi mein aisi bhi ghadiyan aati hain
Beete hue kal ko pachtap ki patjhadiyon
Mein chupati hin
Seeene se neekli hue seeskiyonko
Dabe paon pairon se dabati hain
Aur jab hosh aata hain
Phiri neend ke gunjhle hue kambhal
Thapak tahapak kar
Sulati hain
Zindagi mein aisi bhi ghadiyan aati hain
Aane wale kal ko kal bane se bachati hain..
Seene se lage hue dard ko tadap tadap
Kar marne se bachati hain
Guzrri hue baatein.. kalap kalap kar
Aasuon ke zariye chere ki aad mein
Behjaati hain

Hamare Mullah


Hamare Mullah
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
Amama
pahen kar hame daratey hain
yeh toh hain nange hamam mein
humko bhi nanga dhikate hain
siyasti karne wale..
Allah aur Rasool ke naam par paisa banate hain
naam ke liye yeh kya nahin karate hain
sher khi khaal pahan kar
yeh bhed aur bhediyon ko nigal jaate hain
vande matram
ke bahane se yeh kiya kya
keh jaate hain
aapas mein jhagda karake
uupar wale ko doshi tharate hain..
Amama pahan kar khud to dare
buzdilon mein humari bhi ginti karate hain
lete hain naam hussain
ka aur hussainyat par yazidiyat
ki bharchiyan chalate hain..
Hamare Mullah
hain hamare
kisi aur ke ban jate hain.

Ammam means clerical turban.
This should only hurt whom the amama fits.. these lines are for rogue mullahs who are hell bent on dividing us.. our country as a Nation for political gains.. vote politics.Amama includes all religious head gears..that shame the headless sacrifice for Islam s Truth and Justice on the burning sands of Karbala..
There is also a segment of Shia Wahabbi clerics that are trying all means to erase Azadari e Hussain completely this information I got from a Nawab in Lucknow.

Prince of Evil Son of Satan

photo courtesy wikipedia
Gustave Doré's depiction of Satan from John Milton's Paradise Lost

Satan, the Devil, is a concept strongly supported by the Bible. Jesus had a lot to say about Satan. From Genesis to Revelation, the Devil is presented as a serious threat

John records Jesus describing the Devil as “the prince of this world” (12:31, 14:30). Jesus said, “You are the children of your father, the Devil, and you want to follow your father’s desires. From the very beginning he was a murderer and has never been on the side of truth, because there is no truth in him. When he tells a lie, he is only doing what is natural to him, because he is a liar and the father of all lies.” (John 8: 44)

The writers of the New Testament letters also had a great respect for the Devil. Paul wrote in 2nd Corinthians to “keep Satan from getting the upper hand over us” (2Cor. 2:11), “their minds have been kept in the dark by the evil god of this world.” (2Cor.4: 4), “Even Satan can disguise himself to look like an angel of light.” (2Cor.11: 14)


James and Peter also wrote about the Devil in their letters. James said “Resist the Devil and he will run away from you.” (James 4: 7) Peter wrote “Your enemy, the Devil, roams around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour. Be firm in your faith and resist him.” (1 Peter 5Satan
The devil always goes to far and when he does so, God turns the tables on him and uses it for our deliverance and our enlightenment. I.E. The Red Sea, Haman vs. Mordecai, Job, etc.
The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing people he didn't exist.






Rev 12:9 So the great dragon was cast out, that serpent of old, called the Devil and Satan, who deceives the whole world; he was cast to the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.




Son of Satan
Prince of Evil
Age three score eight
Defying his own Mortal state
Yes this Mate
Who loves
Inequality
Distaste for colored people
propagate
On the souls
of colored poets
Racist Hate
Beats them
With hate filled comments
A black mans pride
He will try to deflate
This Incorrigible
Hate Machine
Ingratiate
He with his evil written poems
More multi cuisine cultural hate
Inculcate
Poor Mother Mary desecrate
He dresses her in dancer’s lace
Even spirituality he berates
Wealth of wisdom dissipate
Calls us Indians poets
of the the third world
third rate
block him
he lies in wait
to ensnare you soul
with Ungodly Hate
As though Poem Hunter
Is his Fathers Real Estate
All around
Throwing his
Satanic weight
Racist megalomaniac
But not at all great

Warm Greetings from a Poets Hell

photo courtesy for reprsentational puropse of racist poets in hell

www.marianland.com/marxism/True_Professionals.gif


Warm Greetings
He sends as a deafening taunt
As a humiliating snide
This narcissist nerd
Australian Racist Poet
Poker faced
His greetings arsenic laced
Like little viper babies
From a basket of Hate surface
On my poetic posterior
Cut copy paste
He things save himself the
Rest of the colored skin
Brainless his opinion
Of this poet bleeding red face
Who with his hate comments!!
Has my walls of poetic peace defaced
This odoriferous stink of hate of foul breath
Whatever he touched or embraced
He with his attitude of a Skin head Yobo
Has an entire continent disgraced
Steve Irwin loved animals but this
Man hates colored men
Aborigines
Middle Eastern men
Multi-Racial Hate Misplaced
His soul putrid fetid his body waste
Absolutely crass gross his sense of poetic taste
If he continues with misdemeanors
Soon he and his kind will be displaced
With a new title
Late AJS
WARM GREETINGS FROM HELL
WHERE HE WILL BE FINALLY REPLACED
IN THE DEVILS ROBES ENCASED

Alice the Piddling Australian Whore

photo courtesy google images
www.stockphoto.com

allan james Saywell (8/29/2007 9:54:00 PM)
There was a young lady named Alice
who peed in a Indian chalice.
she said, 'i do this
From a great need to piss,
And not from racial malice

AJS


You and I
Don’t see
Eye to eye
You are
White
Under
The canopy
Of a hate filled sky
I am Black
Turned Brown
I don’t lie
You mock
The man in me
You shitless scourge
A sty in a racist
Half open eye
Desensitize
Spitting
With the help
Of Alice the
Australia Whore
White Woman
Who drinks gets high
Who cant hold her bladder
Who piddles
In my Chalice
The Vixen
Your stuck finger
Between her thighs
Her unnamed
Children
All muti colored
With chequered scarves
Of all the guys
Who left their trade marks
When they did zip by
Your comments dear AJS
Give me an errection
Full blooded poems
Thanks for the Spanish Fly
Bim Bim Bombay Boy
Warm greetings from Mumbai
My Inbox is full
You scumbag need not reply
Go to bed cut the Internet Wires of Hate
And for once tell the World Good Bye

Australian Racist Poet Bad Luck

photo courtesy google imageshttp://ginacobb.typepad.com/gina_cobb/images/hear_no_evil_1.jpg


allan james Saywell (8/29/2007 9:54:00 PM)
There was a young lady named Alice
who peed in a Indian chalice.
she said, 'i do this
From a great need to piss,
And not from racial malice

AJS

There was a Fucked Poet
Called Malice
Who was Fucking Alice
He said I need to do this
From a great need to fuck
Yes my little finger in her muck
And my Cock well in the ass
Of a Braywell donkey lies stuck
I am an Australian Racist Poet
Bad Luck
I am an Australian Racist Poet
Bad Luck
Little Indian Bim Bombay
Boys I cant duck
Yes I am unemployed
I write racist poetry
I am out of Work

If wishes were horses Racists would Ride

photo courtesyhttp://www.cyberhorse.net.au/tve/athens2004/200804/450pics/relevant1.jpg


If wishes were horses
Poets would write
Good wholesome
Poetry and not slight
Colored poets
With whom they fight
Under black assses
Fires they light
first learn to be a human being
Pianissimo learn to be quiet
Be amicable be nice
Love your colored neighbor
You racist pig corner kick
Someone who is of your height
If wishes were horses
Racists would ride
Once for all into the twilight
From this peaceful Poem hunter website
Warm heartfelt greetings from Mumbai
For your safety and flight
If turnips were racists
Racists alright
I would mash them cook them
Eat them tonight

FATAL DISTRACTION


FATAL DISTRACTION
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
photo coutretesy+
bugi.oulu.fi/~heikkiv/chan/distraction.jpg
Poem: 8070771 - A racist straw that broke the camels back

Member: allan james Saywell


Comment: BURP FART, COUGH, SNEEZE BELCH,

WARM REGARDS AJS



BURP FART, COUGH, SNEEZE BELCH,
your tweed head stuck
between the tits
of raquel welch
bad news that’s what you are
as mentioned in the Daily Squelch

108 Year Old Syed Masoom Ali Baba Asqan Madari..

Loved revered by his followers held in high esteem by the Hindus of Panihar where he stays he has built clinics schools f...