Sunday, September 9, 2007

Mashke Sakina

Mashke Sakina
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
a little six year child
sakina imam hussains
daughter her thirst
her uncle abbas
whose heart did wrench
taking her little water
pouch entering
the sealed off Euphrates
he and his horse
arrows in blood
did drench
yazidiyat the beginnings
of distorted Islamic terrorism
and its unforgettable stench
no pity no remorse
no humanity
the holy prophets family
a workforce to retrench
mashke sakina
torn and tattered
abbas limbless
with his mouth did clench
blood splattered
dying on the sands
a thirst he could not quench
hussain put his head
on his laps ..
Akka forgive me he said.
the Standard Bearer
of the Imams Army
son of Sher Khuda
a heart of Ali
that they bled
an alam with a mashke sakina
a little child a severe reminder
for abbas and his bowed head
it was Islam ,the Ummayad Islam
that killed Islam instead

Muslim Women..Caught in a Web

The hijab is a womans right , and her expression of her faith, but a hijab is also the most controversial garment, todays Indian women I know wear or dont wear the hijab, but their beliefs in their faith is not diminished and it is a question of priority.. My wife wears the hijab, and it is a personal preogative.. she wears a chaddar too.. so I am not against the Hijab but I find Aishah Azmis the lady in the cross fire in UK ,her reasoning quite ridiculous, she wants to have the cake and eat it too, why not teach in an Islamic girls school and bring an end to the matter, and HIndu women made to wear hijab in a Muslim school in Mumbai sucks.. and these are my personal views.. and Jack Straws view s on the Hijab well should be debated by the erstwhile Muslim community in that country.

caught in the vicious circle of dogmatic chaos
the muslim woman in the hinterland screams
out a voiceless pain
the mullah deaf in the ears hears it not
un doctored scriptures doctored Truth translated
for a male dominated muslim society
a sister a daughter a unborn girl child
a muslim mothers unending pain
a court passes a sentence
but the ulema the monster of his times
unrepentant pushes woman hood into an early grave
whatever the holy prophet taught
the ideals the compassion all in vain..
times have changed but the mullahs
prehistoric mind will never change
a hijab over his mind and brain
crumbling walls that cry in pain
money tainted fatwas an acid rain
and what a sorry figure
we cut as humans
muslims but in name a bane
what a shame ..our custodians of our heritage
our ethos and our struggle defame
hurt , mislead and maim..
fighting wrongly for hijab
unreasonably in this case
a Muslim school teacher in UK
aishah azmi
takes wrong aim
some more shame
can an English woman
make demands in a theocratic state
who is to blame
you cant expect a country to
changes it rules
and your will proclaim
all in all the muslim woman
endangered specie…
an old memory in a picture fame

lucknow the city of my birth

once the peak of eloquence
culture , adab tehzeeb
a derelict site ..
unwanted statues
built with the tax payers money
poor more poorer
the babus rich and richer
the mullahs builders
no not bridges only malls
over all populative
human dearth
a bhaiyya tableland
of corrupt politics
decadence of human
values unearth
ungirdled human
old quarters of lucknow
unchanging crumbling
brick after brick
step motherly treatment
by madam mayawati ,
molecular mulayam
or any politics of girth
the congress all these years
played the fiddle like nero
to dwarf and push it into an open
rain storm drain like grave
a city of tawaifs mujra and mirth
yes Lucknow once the city of my birth..
thank you
jai maharashtra
mee mumbaikar
in the quintessential city
of Mumbai
the holy shrine
of my spiritual rebirth.

Encaged Man Zoo Animal

the gods and gods children
went to the zoo to
see a zoo animal called man
two legged proud as a peacock
a pride that was the fall of man
a hunter a hunted
a persecutor a persecuted
predestined to doom
foreboding the downfall of man.
kindgdoms gone
sandless spyhnix
sandless pyramids
a caged animal
languishing in a human zoo
like a monkey aping
the destiny of man
gods children offer him peanuts
a hungry starving animal called man
in the next cage is his woman
her unborn child fruit of the gods
deprivation thy name is man.
born into a family .. fought against the family
accursed the nature of man..
a planet lost , war nuclear holocaust
encaged the last specie of man..

who the fuck cares

governmental graffiti
politics bare
circling thoughts
hidden in squares
life a game of
musical chairs
some lose out
some win
political players
some pushed up
some fall
hasty repairs
upcoming election
wash and wear
todays politician
a millionaire
his paws
that of his family members
firmly clutching
the treasury shares
crooked intentions
wordly affairs
democracy sucks
who the fuck cares..
fools elect
smarter fools
who once
become ministers
put on airs
a bald electorate
no more hair
to divert the attention
from recession
economic despair
muscles in and
false accusations
weapons of mass destruction
war declares
a global eunuch body
watches shamelessly
who the fuck cares
god a page that
cannot be displayed
server cannot be found
unanswered prayers
the broken back world
shouts and swears
who the fuck cares

pink and black

pink and black
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
a new baby to be born
in the parents life
a more acoustic dawn
changing nappies
chaos commotion
no time for
new pictures
or friends and foes
a new life
a new sailing
a tailored
pink and black
more contrast
less detailing..
thoughts of I pot
babys cry
musical notes

Shivas Third Eye

Shivas Third Eye
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
my camera body
my camera lens
shivas third eye
has its residence

sees what cant be seen
interwoven wisdom
in between ..
a flame lighting a path
beyond a smoke screen
a world beyond this world
a photographic emulsion
a world serene
a beggars eye
a stray street scene
thoughts pristine
beneath layers obscene
a fairy godmother
a blog goddess queen
through my words
my thoughts unseen
distempered pussy cat
where have you been
a mature woman
looks sweet sixteen
shadow boxing
in silence ..
shadows unforeseen
cybernetic survival
of a poet mujahideen

Metrosexual Hijdas

at the threshold of a new life
cyber savvy the hijda stands
mehndi on her delicate hands
her feet her fate
clinging to receeding sands
she dances at marriages
blessing the unfortunate couple
soulless music of
matrimonial bands
bimla, kamla, simran , juhi
clap and the older hijdas
wring their hands
51000 bucks the new demands
for 50 bucks go fuck yourself
call film nymphets from filmy lands
resurging hijda community
new commands
the invisibles
now more visible
from old traditions
to new tradition s
life changes hands..
metro sexual hijdas
like the dabbawallas
a fast selling brand

A Blog Goddess Remembered

human hate has flooded our lives
she hates me justifiably
unjustifiably through her hate
my love survives
floats ,sinks ,asphyxiated
on her shore arrives
resuscitating as it thrives
through her silence death deprives
my heart a pin cushion
a bed of knives
her bleeding hate ..
my love revives

Scriptured Sorrow of Womanhood.

photo courtesy Hindustan Times

Triumph of Justice Imrana

Sometimes back a case of a Muslim married woman called Imrana had made much news in the Indian already starved press, the woman Imrana was allegedly raped by her father in law in a Uttar Pradesh village, the sanctimonious , publicity seeking laid back deoband clerics immediately passed a verdict or a fatwa that her marriage was annulled she had to treat her husband as her son as she had slept with his father.

There was much hue and cry as no thought was given to the crime committed by her father in law Mohamad Ali, any how the case came to the Indian judiciary and it has passed exemplary justice sentencing the father in law for ten years and to pay a fine of Rs 8000.

The Muslim woman stands vindicated.
Only the laws of a country can give justice to a Muslim Woman.
The laws of the Mullah sucks.. distorting the compassion that lies in the Holy Koran for Muslim Woman.

Scriptured Sorrow of Womanhood

protecting the pain
womanhood slain
from cradle to nikah
domestic tearstain
her destiny blood marked plain
torturous journey
a soul refrain
coldly given away
in marriage
shoulders sufferings
monolitihic man dominated
mullah powered reign
the hijab her covering
her second skin engrain
women were always ill treated
from time immemorial
but never complain
bibi fatima
bibi zainab
bibi sakina
more than this
time wont explain
women in Islam
still in chain
a fadak of self esteem
yet to regain

Beyond the issue of the Hijab lies a more important one of giving women her rights to live

Scriptured Sorrow of Womanhood.

photo courtesy Hindustan Times

Triumph of Justice Imrana

Sometimes back a case of a Muslim married woman called Imrana had made much news in the Indian already starved press, the woman Imrana was allegedly raped by her father in law in a Uttar Pradesh village, the sanctimonious , publicity seeking laid back deoband clerics immediately passed a verdict or a fatwa that her marriage was annulled she had to treat her husband as her son as she had slept with his father.

There was much hue and cry as no thought was given to the crime committed by her father in law Mohamad Ali, any how the case came to the Indian judiciary and it has passed exemplary justice sentencing the father in law for ten years and to pay a fine of Rs 8000.

The Muslim woman stands vindicated.
Only the laws of a country can give justice to a Muslim Woman.
The laws of the Mullah sucks.. distorting the compassion that lies in the Holy Koran for Muslim Woman.

Scriptured Sorrow of Womanhood

protecting the pain
womanhood slain
from cradle to nikah
domestic tearstain
her destiny blood marked plain
torturous journey
a soul refrain
coldly given away
in marriage
shoulders sufferings
monolitihic man dominated
mullah powered reign
the hijab her covering
her second skin engrain
women were always ill treated
from time immemorial
but never complain
bibi fatima
bibi zainab
bibi sakina
more than this
time wont explain
women in Islam
still in chain
a fadak of self esteem
yet to regain

Beyond the issue of the Hijab lies a more important one of giving women her rights to live

Sarv Dharm Ek Hijda Motto

Sarv Dharm Ek , simply translated from Hindi means All Religions are Equal, and One.
The Hijda is bound by his sexuality , and you do not need to be a Hijda to be a part of this growing community, there are pitfalls, old archaic minds at work, old traditions not giving relevance to modernity.
Earlier when Zia Jafferies wrote Invisibles her bed time story book on the Hijdas it was a different , esoteric layered world, today all that has changed .
Today the Hijda rules.Period.
And Jafferies book is something I wont spend Rs 300 to buy, and this is not bad mouthing , it has served its pupose and nothing more can come ut of it , the Hijda has changed , the metrosexual Hijda has made his or her appearance and Jafferies Hijda Kamal Baksh is lying eaten by worms in an unmarked grave in old Hyderabad.

I just paid the reading charges on Zias book and returned it back to Bharat of Bharat Book stall behind the staue of Dadabhai Naorojee at Hutatma Chowk.
I told Lakshmi Narayan Tripathi to write her side of her story, and what Lakshmi writes would be Truth, undiluted, caustic, acidic, for Lakshmi is a arrogant bitch.

And her pictures I shot at Thane and Kurla Kamani are there but I shall post them after I get over this Hijda sammelan series.

my rapunzel has gone bald

Photo courtesy

in the heart of a flower
lies love
one sided
that is sweet
and sour..
has gone bald
no hair
from the tower..
withering lover
in her bower
finger fucked fate
self inficted
her sorrows deflower

dedicated to carnehumana

Spilling out of the Cups

red wine
blood like red
bacchanalian delights
hemlocked hiccoughs
buxom love
spilling out of the cups
a silent soliloquy
as the fire n the groin erupts
hijda hair raising close ups.
narrow alleys
blind folded pickups
on the walls her androgynous
posters that serve as pinups

my loss my inheritance

waiting chilled to the bone
me my unspeakable
mobile phone
outside her half open
half shut
trembling door
to get back into her
heart an opportunity
with a beggars bowl
water seeping through a hole
knowing that she hates me
more than before
archived love
g mailed
if out of peace bonded love
she could restore
i promise
once this time
i could not ask for more
mercy from her heartless
one sided viewing
trembling glass door
banned member
unhassling her hardcore
a fawned dear to die
to shoot for
i implore
with her grated abated silence
she will underscore
pipsqueaked distempered kitten
a meow that sounds like a roar
imprisoned in a blog gitmo
a crime you should not
feel sorry for
unsaddled multi colored ass of
a photographer unpoetically
gone bed sore
mind canine like
territorially smelling
following her
on all fours
a white elephant
of a one sided love
her heart
my porcelain store.

Rest In Piece Allen James Saywell

photo courtesy

Abdullakasai the radical Ass as Sin
Had warned his radicalism he would hard sell
They did try to impel this malformed
evil product of a Rogue Mullahs
Reproductive cell
He who had placed a bomb on the forum wall
On which sat Allen James Say Well
The cluster bomb made up of shrapnel
Blew to smithereens pieces that you
Just could not tell from the remains
That was once Allen James Saywell
Osama Bim Bombay Laden who
Had designed this explosive bombshell
Handing it over to Abdulkasai the rebel
Embrace Islam the forum members were told
But they answered in unison Oh Fuck Off
Abdullakasai you might as well go to Hell
A rabid rat they did not smell nor the
Chiming of a death knell
This poem is In Memoriam to the rotten
Soul of Allen James Saywell
We wish you a life hereafter very well
With crocodile tears in our eyes
We survivors of Poem hunter
Outside the Forum wish you
Your Australian Racist soul Farewell

'Your freedom ends, where mine begins.'

photo courtesy
Title courtesy Elysabeth Faslund

He says he is a soldier of God
Spare the child spoil the rod
Beneath the folds of his Kundura
He hides two swords
One that populates the world with his creed
The other decapitates heads that don’t nod
A Cybernetic Rogue Mullah head of a Death Squad
Abdullakasai powered by the Wahhabis of Riyadh
A poet in name a proselytizing psychopath petard
He gets paid in petro dollars infiltrating a poet’s esplanade
You will never get rid of him this megalomaniac an escapee
From a mental ward you got to ride over him roughshod
Osama bin Laden has chosen him to help the transition of embracing Islam ..the only religion with a Word of God
Talibanisation radicalism synod
Using women and children as shield thank you Lord
Sepulchral silence in an I pod

T McH..Terrible Moments Chiding Hate

photo courtesy

Better 8 than never
being stupid
In a lopsided world of bush osama
Gadhan is better than being clever
My god is better than yours
Shouts cybernetic prophet
Abdulakasai a good poet
Bad preacher within
Sacrosanct words that waver
a coward among cowards
bedridden souls pen pushers
mouse clickers disfavored
half filled glasses no thirst
no endeavors poets
who pretend that they are braver
in a bomb shelter of a forum
perspiring hate sweating armpits
bad flavor
poetry the pastime of fools
a moment that lasts forever

thank you Steve once again

photo courtesy

on blogsphere a prophet
unprofitable saint
called steve haldane
a human saint
good thoughts on human hearts paint
smelling salts in restraint
women drool see him and faint
we want him is their married unmarried
spinstered prepubescant plaint
icon for omnisexual orglers
and no complaint
suffused anger minus war paint
i heard a pouted whisper
silver chromed whisper
xris aint he quaint ..
no not steve haldane
the indian poet
bioscope photowallah
a goddess a heart

Why So Much Cybernetic Hate

Indians often don’t like Indians
with unceasing pain I have seldom seen
classified as upcaste saffron , bleached out blue
accusingly finger pointed green

the middle sex on a transgendered trampolene

Indian journos don’t like Indian bloggers
with unfeezing pain I have seldom seen
we are called failed writers whiners murderers
asslicking journalists we could not be
yellow jaundiced chikungunya journalism
a mosquitoe bite a mumbai mirror and bad
times for two rupees

Indian film stars don’t like Indian actors
With growing unease I have seen
a Hero no1 ministerial debut
caricatured to a ‘has been ‘
friday is the day of reckoning
super cinema box office hit
or a block buster unheard unseen
saas bahu on the idiot box
dhoomed on a wider screen

Indian blogsites racial profiling cultural policing
do not like unconfused Muslim bloggers
with deep sarcastic hurt I have seen
said the top honcho of one site to me
after deleting my account
we love your passion your pictures
your words as a poet obscene
pornographic poetic pictorial thought
upset matunga brahamanic hindus
upperscrusted ruptured spleen
trick or treat as Indian Halloween
masturbative thoughts
jacked off for crying out loud
I have seen...
fotothing webshots multicolored
hatred in between
deleted my bloodletting
moharram pictures so as not to
upset western kids under eighteen
at dharavi in a sleazy cybercafe
you can see dirty horny pictures
for rs 20 and as a bonus
also have a eunuch go down on thee .
only at buzznet and at bloggerspot
my soul my thoughts were set free
under the branched out shade of
a cybernetic Bodhi Tree
a master a ghost dog
a beta blog goddess banshee


an australian racist poet
who pasted limericks on my multicolored ass
this was his idea of poetry
yes australia is the worlds no 1
racist nation a gift to their unborn progeny
hatred for browns blacks arabs and lebanese
humanity down under a caracass in deep freeze
like dr haneef so many locked up forever
waiting for an ultimate release
everything easily available
but no sign of everlasting peace

soul shredded Hijda

Everyone wants a piece of me
The religious man
Gives me sermons on
Right living
And Forgiving
The Policeman
Comes home
A few drinks
Unforgettable kinks
Gets a blow job
And in drunken sleep sinks
calls it taxpayers fucked 40winks

The politician loves me the most
To him and election winning cronies
I am the host
They all fuck me turn by turn
And to the whole world boast
And their uncut love of India
On my blue and bruised ass roast
Father Mother and some Unholy Ghost

The Babujees of Bureaucracy
Come in the dark of the night
Play cards, all night , fight
Toss a counterfeit coin
Both side heads
And tales and my plight
A gun license for my lover
Still not in sight
colorful poetic love
monochromatic morbidity
burnt out emulsion
black and white

The main stream
media reporter and his crew
Come to my bed and their
Fucked minds unscrew
While I go down
Fat lot I chew
They all night
The channel heads ass spew
New false hopes
Old false
Promises renew
soul shredded Hijda
life and after life outgrew.

Thank You Beta

Thank You Beta
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
Thank you all , you guys at Bloggerspot

for the timely and kindly gift of the Beta.

the bloggers world a new apolitical , theatre ..

inching into hearts of readers

faster than my rhyme no metre

mainstream media

papu pass ho gaya

a failed same bench repeater

teacher and student

the system

a fucked cheater


to shobhan saxena

mud slinging blog beater

his ass getting burnt


on an editorial lap

that serves as

horny electrical

sparked heater



mid tones


an exposure meter.

posted on 13 oct 2006

The Bloggerspot Beta was an illusion, a sugar coated candy offered for a few days, now it is back to normal, word verification, madness personified, I have walked away, I think Word Press is more suitable to a person like me who can post 50 or more blog posts in a single day without getting my multi colored ass singed…
Fuck you Beta.

December 19th, 2006

Cybernetic Clown

Cybernetic Clown
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
you cannot
nail him down
on the buzznet clothesline
jumping up and down
with a smile and a frown
naked semi sadhu
clothed in brown
analogous camera mind
prostituted poetry
photography reknown
street children
street woes
on pavements
a pain that wont
simmer down
words fucked
into silence
by her own sound
ass tickling words
finger fucking words
mouth sucking words
in a cerebral godown
in her heart they
seldom touchdown.
emotions on rent
counsel the clown
trade marked
tear jerking
talk of the town

the shia thug from mumbai

her words
gilded silence
as her
thoughts zip by
ravishing my soul
choking my unborn cry
my tongue tie
her shut lips
her shut mouth
her shut doors
my pain underlie
golden silence
one sided love
blinded in an eye
hope runs dry
crushed by the weight
of another
good bye

phallic phrenology

titular tragedy
albatross around my neck
by my mentor
k g maheshwari
pedestrian poetry
street photography
through blogs
freely advertised
unlearning photography
spam positive
word verification
falling in love online
unbottled hopes
number of hits on my
web paged ass chastised
a lesson in life
bollywoods most wanted
designer no1
sartorially surmised
circumstantial evidence
a head circumcised
phallic phrenology
analogue camera like body sold at a loss
digital pictorial poetic soul overpriced

Two Dogs and a Cat

cat among two dogs at play
canine will and feline way
dogs that are bandra bizarre stray
cat a fish market grey
clear headed camaraderie
mutual coexistence display
on each other with barks
and claws don’t prey
a lesson in living I learn
as I pass from work
to my home everyday
bare feet soiled
soft like guttered clay
animals have more human
understanding than
animalistic misunderstandings
we humans proudly portray
eaten up by envy , jealousy and decay
politics of Hate , more Hate
killing mankind in a very bad way
territorial terrorism underplay
the best of life fading away.
the unborn child dumb stricken
would rather be still born
than come into this world
his innocence
fritter away

Nikon D70 Brain Freeze

me finger fucked
by my love
for photography
camera expertise
bad service
developer Japanese
Nikon board of directors
silently silent
Nikon trustees
Nikon D70 a cock tease
once in a while
at interfoto
near famous studios
for repairs
to randip
body bared strip tease
suffers from
appertured dengue
camera foot
in the mouth
3 years loan
standard charterd
unchartered to appease
my fucked pockets
repair charges
my balls
the throttling
heart burned in Mumbai
whom I love
could have been
a Sudanese
a Chinese
a Burmese
or a Vietnamese
a Sinhalese
a Cantonese
a Nepalese
seven times marrying
shri shakir abdul aziz
love pearl harbored in America
balancing act on a cybernetic
silken thread of a trapeze
oh my love lies overseas
one sided love of a goddess
no ungodly guarantees
journalistic juvenile joys
a love that is hard to please
thank you ben bell
Alaska revisited
Frostbitten ass
Nikon D70 brain freeze
more vaginal vagaries
eyes shut mouth open
ears musically soothed
by philharmonic fleas
cybernetic love
word wasting
cut copy
un pasting disease


photo courtesy


http: // view=uk



Bandra Bizarre Road

letters of hope
all drowned and soggy
letters of joy
unfound and foggy
letters of reconcilliation
watermarked as boggy
the same letter box where
lifting his spindely
leg piddles her doggy
at bandra bizarre road
where gutters spew
venomous fumes
rains storm drainage
working overtime
whore watering holes that
have become cloggy
local hooch joint nearby
asshole annonymous
all gone groggy
a tadpole finger fucked
by a libidinous fish
before he outgrows and is called
wishy washie froggie

Embrace Islam ?

Embrace Islam ?
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
photo courtesy

Analysts views on bin Laden video
Sep 9, 2007 1:53 PM

Following are some analysts' views on a newly released video of Osama bin Laden marking the sixth anniversary of al Qaeda's Sept. 11 attacks:

"Osama's call to the Americans to convert to Islam is indicative of an al Qaeda attack on US targets. Before the Prophet (Mohammad) attacked his enemies he urged his opponents to embrace Islam."

"Osama is presenting Koranic injunctions before planning to attack."

There's nothing new there, except for... when he called on the US to convert to Islam. In my opinion that's different from his earlier statements that contained a political dimension, references to oppression, and contained language that was broader than direct religious creedal language.

I think it suggests a return to a closed and impossible understanding of religion.

I think when there's impossible talk floated it reflects a crisis in discourse... It's clear his influence within the al Qaeda organisation... is now limited, so the impossible discourse comes to the forefront because it costs nothing. No one's going to ask him how he plans to convert the US, and with what means. But when he talks about specific objectives, that he'll attack this area, or that the US will withdraw from Iraq in a month... there people will expect results. So it's clear he's not capable of achieving anything possible, so he's switched to impossible discourse, which no one can call him out on.

There is a very theatrical and amateur feel about this particular message, and I suspect that Adam Gadhan, the California-born head of As-Sahab, al-Qa'ida's media arm, has played a major role in scripting and production of this video, and also orchestrating its release.

Bin Laden dyeing his hair and beard, whilst hiding out somewhere in Pakistan, is really bizarre because it makes him, a man who claims he wants to be a martyr, look vain and ridiculous as he seems to have the time and priority to do a major makeover before appearing on camera. It does not fit with the image he has so carefully nurtured, the masquerade of his being a holy warrior devoid of normal human traits.

He seems to have undergone changes in both his physical appearance and his personality.

It is truly odd that bin Laden speaks about "the reeling of many of you under the burden of interest-related debts, insane taxes and real estate mortgages; global warming and its woes..." because the wording and sentiments are those of a rebellious young western-born individual and not the head of al Qaeda.

Because video tapes featuring bin Laden speaking to camera are so rare, the release of this particular tape could herald a major attack, though remarkably this message contains none of his usual open threats against the United States.

If it is indeed bin Laden then he is exhibiting a very different personality trait and shift from previous messages.

This is just a message to his followers and foes that he exists and that he is still the leader of al Qaeda.

I am 100 percent sure that this man has no power to plan (for al Qaeda). He is just giving signals to his followers around the world.


The message is much more threatening this time. It's confident, it uses iconic language that suggests, 'I'm commissioned to wage an unending war against you, and the only way to get peace is to convert to Islam.'

It's very clear that he took care to give the impression that's he's at ease, that he's on the offensive and he controls the situation, that's he not a fugitive, he's very comfortable ... He's saying 'Now I can show you mercy or not.'

He's in a state of battle, a state of constant, unending war until he Islamises the world ... So they're not talking about Iraq, they're talking about the world.

A megalomaniac
A living threat
Of an atomic bomb
A makeover
A new message
he tries to palm
global warming
worldly woes
has no qualms
Offers a balm
Americans must
Embrace Islam
His nemesis
Round the corner
As lines jam
A noose
He will hang
Like Saddam
He and his menagerie
Of a Terrorist Farm
Says the President
Heckled Goddamn
Islam a religion
Of Peace and Brotherhood
Hijacked by Yazidiyat
Jehadi Terrorism that is not Islam
The teachings of the Holy Prophet
With Hate embalm.

The Darker Side of the Moon

Inspired by tomoonloves s poem

I thought about the darker side of the moon
My treacherously trodden death wished thoughts
seconds between life an death
a mouth blown bubble
a life I lead to mislead as my double
usurping love that is not mine
stealing hope , robbing time
grabbing snatching coveting
a neigbours web aged wife
pick pocketing wild passions
seeing them come crashing down
tall babeldom sky scraper longings
once touching trembling doors
of my beloved
now writhing in death throes in a rubble
a face unseen pouting guilt
like pessimistic pockmarked stubble
my remorse my sorrows redouble
locked up like a blogger in a deleted blog
of a cybernetic air bubble
from the hand that shook the cradle
to the hand that pushes me in the grave
penny wise pound foolish words
comments will take some time to post
as I wait for more trouble
soap suds licking the hallowed
teasing tabernacle
between her thighs
envy of an unspectacular
voyeuristic vagabond
deflected in
the eye of a soap bubble

The Rush of Faith

The Rush of Faith
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
The Khwajah Garib Nawaz
greets his children
as they crowd
to bow at his gate
yes this is Ajmer Sharif
the true land of Love
no place for Hate
no borders of blood
on this spiritual slate
hindus muslims dalits
all faith
bound to the Khwajah
in human state
hum sab ek
hum sab nek
uparwalah humko dekh
yes much at stake
in a surrealsitic
world full of fake
give and take
keep awake
love of Khwajah
no heart break
no heart ache
shah ast hussain
that you partake
come to ajmer
seek forgiveness
for past mistake
like the Khawajah
in both the worlds
they do not make

This poem is dedicated to the Khadims of Ajmer Sharif.. and Peersaab Fahkru Miya Hujra No6 .

April 30th, 2007

Bismillah 786

Bismillah 786
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
In the Name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful

The total value of the letters of “Bismillah al-Rahman al-Rahim” according to one Arabic system of numerology is 786. There are two methods of arranging the letters of the Arabic alphabet. One method is the most common alphabetical order (used for most ordinary purposes), beginning with the letters Alif ا, ba ب, ta ت, tha ث etc. The other method is known as the Abjad numerals’ method or ordinal method. In this method the letters are arranged in the following order: Abjad, Hawwaz, Hutti, Kalaman, Sa’fas, Qarshat, Sakhaz, Zazagh; and each letter has an arithmetic value assigned to it from one to one thousand. (This arrangement was done, most probably in the 3rd century of Hijrah during the ‘Abbasid period, following the practices of speakers of other Semitic languages such as Aramaic, Hebrew, Syriac, Chaldean etc.)


a spiritual house
built with a single brick
no conjuring
hand of sleigh
or bag of tricks
any break down
an immediate quick fix
all gods goodness predicts
no sectarian hate
no sectarian violence
a single united
banner of Islam
no conflicts
allah ho akbar
a universal cry
of love hope

April 30th, 2007

Prayers for Peace

Prayers for Peace
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
with a few disgruntled
muslim misguiding
people who have become
spirtual vigilantes
a tazbi a skull cap
a religious goatee
showing by their
suicidal bombings
their hatredness
for all things Islamic
killing innocent people
innocent pilgrims at Karbala
the blood that flows
the limbless
the injured
the wounded
the dead
no this is not
this is what is killing
Islam each day
every day
stitched sealed lips
of our religious heads
how can we be united
an Islamic Moon
divides our Idd
sectarian sacrilege
everywhere you see
faith in captivity
man cutting the branch
sitting on a tree
another man
prayer for peace
some more safety
death of a coward
killing himself
beneath the debris
dont shed tears
for humanity
a cry from
my beloved country

April 30th, 2007

The Love Sick Lama Of Love Lane

The Love Sick Lama Of Love Lane
who gets fucked for what he writes
by a more fucked writer Foster Blaine
photography unlearn untrain
critics a piece of a ice cube
in the rectum and the pain
undiapered clotted bloodstain
a pain that wont wane
come cloudbursts
or unprecedented rain
this teeth chattering
hands shivering pain
bloodletting just wont drain
adam and eve a spooky
satanic serpent as god parent to abel and cain
words tyrannizing and terrorizing to get out of
the gitmos of my brain..

a unscrewable cock giving a blow job
tongue stuck in the mouth of
a lip glossed bottle
of a french champagne..

Return of the Master of the Rings

lover of turqoise
more turquoise
on silver chains
silken strings
return of the
Master of the Rings
an arrow shot
a gushing hole in the heart
bleeding water springs
cutting through her
swollen headed Mind
mind over matter
cellophane like wings
a fanciful flight
no happiness brings
through the blogsphere
kittened soul
kitchened soul
burnt mittens
a poetic pause
foolishly holding
on to her
apron strings

Pain Painted Portrait

searching for a soul mate
beautiful mature
but not overweight
height not more than
5/7 or 5/8
figure hour glass
bottle trait
not bisexual
sunny disposition
a call or a response
in my g mail
inbox i await
only mature women
little girls
this message negate
knowledge of
pouted photography
no hindrance i state
together good pictures create
unlearning photography
unlearning poetry
wholesomely conjugate
peace and another piece
reconsidered love
instead of unconsidered hate

Whats Cooking in Your Pot ?

the steaming
cauldron of your heart
spicy ingredients
garam masala
salt and pepper
grated ginger paste
chopped cilantro
choped garlic
half pinch brown nut meg
a dash of chilly powder
teasing turmeric,
testicular onions .
pre heated in hate that love cannot tell apart
vinegared tears of a poet for taste
crisply chopped circumsized body part
shredded brainy grey matter asofetida
seminal sweetened coconut milk
a culinary piece of art ..
now remove from cauldron
garnish with unsalted roasted peanuts
more chopped cilantro
that came with the shopping cart
serve with toasted naan
savour soothing simmering
let the scavengered soul depart..

Papu Copy Kar Ke Ban Gaya Gentleman

main stream media..
heads hitting the sky
a blogger has nothing to lose
master of a cybernetic paradise
no editorial ball crunchers
as disguise
no writers blocks
no testicular turpitude
pictures and poetry
between the thighs
live and let live
one world two thoughts
is all I can surmise
shobhan saxena
bloggers you despise
times of india keeps
your fires burning
comes as no surprise
FUDs editorial collapse
Papu copy kar ke ban gaya Gentleman
dont throw chilly powder in our eyes
readership distinctions
only bad manners sensationalize .

straight into her heart

swift like a dart
reflected light
of her inner being
a pictorial
poetic shot
is all that i got
my defective lens
vision blurred
hot spots
her words
once upon a time
wreathed serpents garland
round my neck
forget me nots
cyberfoiled plots
at buzznet flesh
soul uncompositionally rots
words in his head like maggots
playing ring a ring a roses
like little tiny tots
a broken down ham radio
roger roger over and out
no advertising spots
to pee or not to pee
before the bursting bladder
uric acid bathed in blood clots

Eyes Opened Fate

Eyes Opened Fate
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
Its never too late
For Muslim woman
To change their present state
Education the reality of a girl child
Should not wait at any rate
Jihad against Ignorance
Self dependence
Women emancipation
Puri tyrannical ways
of women degradation
Unislamic trait
Hijab is a birthright
a purely mind state
not a last straw
I must state
let the Mullahs know
that woman was not
just meant to procreate
use abuse and desecrate
or a cuisinary delight
on their silver plate
indians treat women
like mother goddess
worship that Islamists
dont interrelate
muslim marriage
marriage of convenience
flesh is willing
who wants a soul mate
Muslim woman’s life even women
cannot translate
women have to rise
above womanhood
with modernity and pious living
computer savvy ,
occupation oriented
self respecting
a womans real estate
women only women
a palm as a
challenging fist
can change
the lines of her
UnIslamic Fate

sanctimonious english talking swine

thank you,
I kill time
shoot pictures that rhyme
fall in love online
they the cybernetic
pharisees , saducees
led by caipahas
say its a mullticolored crime
crucify him upside down
the sanctimonious english talking swine
for once let him know what it means to go out of line
the rise fall and the decline
dont ever let him
white women malign
said the high priest brand his pickled ass
what was not his
now can be mine
let him rot on the crucifix
and meet his maker divine

In between the Fire and the Deep Sea

Soul entrapped
in the body of his mobile phone
rare specie you cannot clone
reared agony and home grown
rings on his fingers rock like stones
victim of circumstances
product of an unknown zone
photographerno1 as a blogger
you cant dethrone
once lured to a polar zone
alaskan fern and ecstatic moan
unwhorrling cyclone
a goddess once welll known
choreographed curiosity
some hip bone
indian parakeet
gilded cage has flown
poetic pleasures all his own.
not gathering moss this
rolling stone

Muslim Women Triple Talaq 2

Born to weep
Born to cry
Social injustice
Islamic blind eye
Muslim woman
Manacled in
Old laws
By so called Rogues
And religious outlaws
An effect born to a cause
Profit for man
Womans loss
Triple Talaq
A sword on her neck
While she clambers
Or falters on a marital trek
Father in law too can share
While false fatwas monied
Hopes share
And excommunication bare
A woman born to wear and tear
And if they dare ..
They are termed harlots
On social welfare
A tightening noose and a frightening snare
Islamic society
Male dominated
Has no time for repair
And during riots
Sunnie Shia women
Part of a loot
Part of a share..
Divided we fall
And united
Each other
Muslim sect we hardly spare
The Irony of being born
A Muslim woman
A factory for more children to bear
And when he gets tired
Triple Talaq..
And another woman replace
A face within a face
And no trace …
Muslim Women fallen from Grace

MSM Buy One Take One Free

What the mainstream media
Sells ..for two rupees
Like other bloggers
I Give it free
My time my thoughts
My poems my pictures
All can see
No catch like tamasha
Buy one take one free
Mumbai Mirror
With Times of India
Lack of editoral
not for me
And the newspaper
Dies buried
at the raddi paper wallah
a part of old news and debris
advertised epithets
on the soul of a
collective humanity
I can post
what I want
my conscience
my thoughtful
as my priority
shobhan saxena
reads blogs
river bend
bruna the Brazilian whore
on the blogsphere
is all he can see
lifting his putrid flesh
on our blogs
he defecates and pees
he needs to take a break
from a Doon school
in a doomed valley
Gautam Dua makes sense
"FUD: Fear, uncertainty,
and doubt (FUD) is a sales
or marketing strategy"
Fear the muezzins call
Cybernetic soliloquy
Does not make
the presswallahs
Very happy.
My third eye
Shiva like
Perched on my camera
Makes me shoot
Pictures poetic imagery
sets my soul free.
Photographer no1
Swallowed like
In a blog like
Sharks belly

I Wont Cross Your Path Ever

I hope not ever ..
poetic fool
pictorially clever
viewfinder of my minds camera
her profile I rever
pouted lips unpeeled silence
that I savour
blogger bashing
does not deter
my endeavour
server cannot be found
is a state of mind
that remains
my one sided love forever
in some other planet
some other time
I might be reborn as
cockeyed caucasoid
less dumb and more clever
she theresa and me trevor.

The Bombay Black Hole

Indian Ishtyle
Toilet Bowl
sucks mans
alter ego
in a black hole
Steve calls
it a trapped
user Id
like photographerno1
in an unknown zone
unable to bring to life
at buzznet
situation not under
his control
so he offered me commentator no 1
to entertain new members
purely a theatrical role
bollywoods most wanted
imprisoned at
Buzznets Cybernetic Guantanamo bay extol
no access profile page public no payroll
via Google I can take a stroll ..
sometimes black lesbian, tasha, dscitrina
on my muster roll ..
ghostly comments and Old King Cole
my fucked up amorphous heterogeneous soul
that the pink panthered gay hacker stole.

I Squat and Pee

I Squat and Pee
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
Unlike a dog I dont lift
my leg against a limpid lamp post
or an embarassed tree
I squat and pee

women in India also
squat and pee
not to embarass
a tempting he
with the ghagra or skirt hide
what he would love to see
the source of the river nile
equatorial forest region
held on its knees
the heart a lonely hunter
does cock tease
the cock on a testicular trapeze.
for once agrees.

Fucked By Words

Fucked By Words
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
Buzznet turns me on, I can write non stop, shit and crap but still make poetic sense, fuck words pursue me like gun shots and they mostly hit my rear side.. words like sling shots hit me from everywhere , Xris's Buzz has helped me become a Bard ..A Die Hard , my jeweled hands on my ass always on my guard..words I ask for an inch they wrap me up in yards..words like a broken bottle breaking in my head like shards...words futuristic fucking my happiness like tarot cards ,defrosted brains watered words from america that send me best regards.. me an Indian asshole going down under prostituting poetry words like splattered recyclable condoms on a placard., seminal stains , masturbative morbidity maligned on birthday cards..

The Indian Leopard

words spouting
seldom doubting
silently shouting
on the internet
indian leopard
multi colored
turban headed
blonde undreaded
love forever scouting
bollywoods most wanted
tag a touting
camera and lips
a pouting
blogger bozo
couch potato
finger tapping
arse eroded chair
ajmer was a break
soul synchronized outing..