Tuesday, September 11, 2007


Thank you Angie sweet heart
Brave American woman wisdom wise
New Mexico new thoughts impart
I am a slow learner a slow start
I did not know how to disable comments
That Allen James Saywell
Hubcap Shithead
Would come and fart
Aaaaah a feeling of relief
As after this no more
Of Hubcap poems in my apple cart
My life at poem hunter computer
Than you Frank James Ryan Jr
I restart..
I finally got rid of
Hairy scary fairy like wart
Sold down under as a laxative
In a trade mart
For not paying her
For the last fuck
Gangubai the Gonorrheal whore
Would love to tear his balls apart

unwired assuetude

unwired assuetude
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
Assuetude of things hurtful doth make them lose their force to hurt. --Bacon.

what is left
of my brains
gets chewed
my balls
like seekh
worth due
to taxation problems
multicolored ass
when unclad nude
shia thug
with lots of love
digital dangerous
her words not mine
cybernetic love
blogs balefuly
eye to eye
her speechlessness
to my speech
hair raising
all in all
but me walking
a trapeze
wired to her
lack of latitude
her sincere
in solitude
my menopausal
some gratitude
habits die hard
she me


Mind mindlessness matrix of evil
Bad times will hereby pass no backlash
Ohhhhhhhhhh Hubcap dickhead come kiss my ass now no more
On the sanctity of my poems page can you gate crash
With your filthy toothless limerick miniature camera mind
And disjointed buggered up camera flash
Terminally terrorizing treacherous toxic trash
On my popularity you a son of a bitch want to encash
I hope you get trichinosis
Troglodyte tramp all over your
Putrefying body incurable rash
I also hope and pray to my multicolored god
That somebody your useless hubcap bash
Your balls some freaked out eunuch slash
Menstrual blood of a witchcraft whore on your
Body splash
Your bones with all your seminal saliva mash
You Aussie racist poet you who think are very brash
Learn that with a Bim Bombay Boy never to clash
With every word I your teeth I mean your dentures smash
You pernicious parasitic pugnacious pusillanimous perishable
Cow dung ash..
Allen James Shithead Hubcap slapdash

I am dumb deaf and sorry

forgive me
if I have erred
me all wire haired
born indian
looking desi
micheal jackson type
highly scared
thoughts of you
on Halloween
you a beauty
dark haired
a blog
humping a
journal unpaired
me recently my
parts repaired
a silence
the show must go on
a distempered kitten
ensnared ..
a basket
of she wolves
that she had dared
mitten less claws
velvet like paws
tongue twisted
fighters block
speech impaired

street pictorial poetry

fat man
on a bench
from his
I thought
he is unfucking
a wench
his fists
carter road
fishy washy
a pictorial
in my poetry
gets drench
a passing dog
if it should
give him french
man his lost manhood
on a work bench

Titmouse Titter

Titmouse Titter
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
trembling door
temple door
tendon tore
tight lipped
tight fisted
touch and go
treasure trove
tug of war
tumored truth
two timing
thy trembling door



Member: Frank James Ryan Jr.

Comment: Wooooooooooosh! I take it you and someone else are not going to be in each others wills any time in the near or distant future, so it would seem!
My friend, i have read many of your works before this recent battle of wits...You are inventive and innovative....your structure is clean, and (its just my opinion, you see & i could be wrong, as i have many a time & and will be many more times) but, i personally would like to see the pre-battle Firoze on-line....not to imply that this is non-creative parlance....It's just that, it might be time to move on to more productive work....Either way, you know i'll always read you....


You are so naive
you are honest
you are so so frank
But will my life become peaceful
If on your advice and words I bank
The day Hubcap came into my life
My Titanic sank
But I keep rising my head
Out of waters ready to
Fight Hubcap Allen James Shithead
With my water tank
This preposterously venomous
Vituperative crank
Whose limericks on my poetic ass
Draws a blank
If he sells them
he wont even get a Rwandan Franc
product of his horny mind that
breeds in a common toilet septic tank
his minscule manhood
that Gangubai the Gonorrheal Whore
in the Mumbai cages did yank
the flucker owes her for the last fluck
sordid memories on a choked river bank
I respect you but to your kind advice I say No Thanks
As Hubcap series of poems my mind wanks
And the pedestrian poet in me AJS ‘s ass spanks


In a sleepy sheepish village
In the land of OZ called Tweed heads
There lived a Racist poet called
Allen James Shithead
He loved little Indian boys
With bald and bleeding heads
Menstrual machinations
Fascinated him
He chose the color red
He loved fighting badmouthed
Bully 61 years old unwed
this incorrigible
Women hater misogynist
He was not a misandrist
Allen James Shithead
Goldy Locks he could not bear
His venom on the forum he spread
He jerked going down on sheep
Bestiality home bred
Writing poems as he masturbated
In his back shed
Gangu bai the Gonnorheal Whore
Curses him her bill unpaid
For services she rendered
To this racist swine head
On one of her swollen tits
Is his illegitimate son
Junior Allen James Saywell
Full body white only pecker
And gonads black with
Plaids on his head
Gangubai wants to call him
Bim Bombay Aussie bred

Light a fire under his ass to’
The ladies room of the forum
He has fled..
Transgendered tyranny
Tranny like instead
Hubcap will be remembered
Even after he is dead


you hubcap are nothing but a frickin woman hater...
you sickhead tithead pederast predator
racist bater
to the cause of humanity
the most fucked traitor
working hard at a bordello as a janitor
i am your nemesis an errupting crater
see you later
androgynous amorphous
australian alligator

dedicated to GL


Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
Indian soul curry
Pungent spicy
Mouth and ass burning
Don’t eat it in a hurry
Yes brother Jerk off Jug head
Allen James Shithead
Rapacious rascal raspberry
Its your failing health
Your rising BP that I worry
In case you predecease me
At poem hunter in the forum
Your poetic remains they will bury
Tears that will drop from eyes
Thoughts of your antics all blurry
Than they will rush back and tarry
I am just me C words censored
others waiting in the wings
A fight that won’t end in a scurry
Words wilting molting watery
As words are when they are syrupy slurry
Abdulla kasai will read your last rites
In Arabic converted to his ideology
You barbaric barberry
Archangel Gabriel your soul
From planet Earth to Hedonistic Hell
On his Wings will ferry
Farkme Bim Bombay Boy
Warm sincere greetings
Your choke cherry


photo courtesy

Was found outside a whore house and because of his good looks was rejected by the pimps and whores as they thought he was Aids infected, he was placed in a basket of serpents and thrown in the Arabian sea and was washed up on the Australian Coast the east coast and was found by a mongrel dingo and brought home and adopted by a group of horny nuns hence his dislike for anything women -like. when he was growing up he spent a lot of time reciting blah blah black sheep in the butchers shop. He was always dressed in fine pinafores with stilettos and fishnet. The yobos always followed him around wondering when they could break into his pert little ass.The teachers resented his great knowledge and photographic memory and his hate for women and multi colored scarves and his hate for indian curry.

His early youth or life after school was flucked agitating the older generation by blowing up their cars with plastic bombs later on he formed his own terrorist gang which he called 'the indian curry smashers they would speed all over town blowing black men aborgines and lebanese including anyone who had a bald and bleedng pate He was rather feminine freckled pansy like that is why he started to write poetry and hand it out to all the young little indian bim bombay boys of course they were much kicked up with his use of dirty dark language and almost pornographic limericks often they would rip his trousers write their name on his tiny wanger HUBCAP IS FOR REAL. his favourite saying if confronted was 'suck black and brown penis everybody'. It is said he has a twin somewhere in the world another poet maybe maybe at the mumbai cages a pimp who works for gangubai the gonorrheal whore.


Ode To an Anonymous Ass Swiped

fall off
when they
get overripe
this poem is dedicated
to an anonymous ass swiped
finger fucked
one fnger type
colic , intestinal disorders
that poetically gripe
falling in love
with a star on a stripe
a goddess a blog
oh what a hype
me and my cock
smoke without fire
a combustible exhaust pipe
diametrically diabetic
such is my blood type
a journalistic
faux pas
that throttles my windpipe
she her thoughts
me an Indian jacksnipe
can she not for once
settle down
less hypersensitive
and smoke
a Peace pipe..

intead of taking
a miscalculated
ass wipe

The Pictorial Trinity

This has an interesting story I had just got to know Mr KG Maheshwari was invited to his birthday party, but Mrs Maheshwari was sceptical about my atrocious sense of dressing she had hinted to my other Guru Mr BW Jatkar in the picture to see that I wore clothes , a bit tamely, hence to appease her I wore simple clothes.. less make up less jewllery ..but the last time I met them I was on Pitru Visarjan this year I was a mess barefeet had walked from Banganga Walkeshwar to their bungalow at Napean Sea Road.. after duly washing my feet in their garage..
Now they dont bother about my dress code and this picture was shot in 2001.

This is Bw Jatkar Me Dronacharya Kg Maheshwari
Once upon a time salon exibitors , camera clubs called
us the Pictorial Trinity
All three different school of thoughts
caught in a maze of enchanting Imagery
both my gurus reciting the
Vedas of Unlearning Photography
Today I have given up salon participation
beyond the Print …crossing the cybernetic seas on a raft of Blog..
words fused to pictures ..pictures embedded words
surrealistic weblogged reality
mainstream media evey sunday writes our obituary ..
hyperlinked after death…on google search..travesty
my street pictures my pedestrian poetry.

April 12th, 2007

Death Beyond the Hijab

while walking
at cater road
promenade this morning
on a bench I spotted
a girl in a hijab
with a filmy
looking muslim guy
necking and pecking
I muttered
why wear a hijab
religious sentiments decry
do openly what you have to do
why be covertly shy
insult a controversial garment
with another lie
on the rocks at
carter road such scenes
between hijab clad women
the nearby college guys
is a common sight to walker
joggers and passersby
who cares a flying fuck
its their life they say
blatantly without batting an eye
I am not criticizing the hijab
but a desecration of traditions
and hypocritical values
as I see them being
punished as time passes by
mullahs over sensitive souls
publicity crazy maniacs
on allahs dole ..take up cudgels
for the hijab a truth covered by
a drape within a drape of a
beauty in the eye of the beholder
nothing but another lie..
persecution of the muslim
women will continue
by muslim male dominated
mullah society
whether she wears the hijab
or does not wear the hijab..
a thought within my
a hijab is merely an excuse
to divert the main issue
of muslim women
the battered marks on their bodies and souls
truth raped by a garment interwoven
to cover a voiceless cry..
branded muslim woman
enslaved to male
bonded labour in matrimony
live and let die.
Hijab a kaffan
a winding sheet
spun by spun
two ply

photo courtesy

Head of Flesh Body Made of Stone

unsculptured head
made of flesh
some grey cells
some brain
a pain born
of a wrist cut vein
a shattered glass
blood stained
on a window pane
bound to a stone body
by an arterial chain
to her the queen of hearts
me a clownish oaf a knave
in her domain ..like hercules
the golden fleece
I cant obtain
living in a gitmo
my handler
a silent whistle
and dog chain
feelings of man
flaccid manhood
still remain
like a weather vane

body made of
erosive rock
no water
can irrigate
devoid of human hate
unfertilized to mate
open to debate
transgender soul
orientation straight
on her window sill
bleeding wires cut feet
a dove of peace
pulled out feathers
I wait
she with her silence
her hospitality
of her window sill berate
by default
my noble intentions
of pigeonholing into her heart
she an American
flight of fancy
poetic orgasms
in the unsheltered womb
of my mind procreate
using sign language
me all stone bodied
my cybernetic love
poets see this picture
as a corollary
a poem on a pedestal
a dead poets portrait

Unlearn Photography


firoze shakir malang
pictorial bawa of photography
with dronacharya k g maheshwari
Master said close your eyes
now tell me what you see
through the camera lens of my mind
i saw visual poetry
monochromatic memories
color coupler
what others dare not see
a guru is a need of the hour
touch the lotus feat
beneat the shade of this banyan tree
guru dakshina as devotion
rest complimentary
masters like him come once in a life time
so here take heed and agree
you students wanting to ape atul kasbekar
first in all humility
unlearn photography

This was me disguised as an old man, to accelerate my ageing process, while the Master shot me..untamed domesticity..

April 12th, 2007

Bombay Meri Jaan

Bombay Meri Jaan
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
torn and tattered vestements
of life retailor and darn
reminding you of days that are gone
nostalgia , custom made happiness
in the palm of your hand
rains , bhuta keema pao chai
baghdadi regal electric house
victoria no 203 strand hotel
radio club gokul mere weather road
ideal cafe and home that is strand
colaba market panch pairi
ist pasta lane , kailash parbat.
hanuman mandir sunlight of asia
grants building lorraine peter
memories bursting forth with elan
growing older or younger women
or man
mumbai a marathi metaphor
revealing unpeeling
bombay meri jaan..
johnny walker
watching a goal
sitting on the stands
rovers cooperage
mohamedan sporting
east bengal ..
it was only colaba
bombay meri jaan..

Chath Puja and Bihari Mumbaikar

a new hope a new beginning
a havan prayers for peace
no more sinning
working hard and always winning

on chath puja
all roads lead to
juhu beach
traffic comes to a halt
what a screech
bhojpuri ethos and bhojpuri speech
the bihari mumbaikar
a bit of patna
within his reach

sugarcane fields
on the sandy shores
the sea more gleeful as it roars
the spirits of young and old
like the waves rise and soar
women in the best sarees
gold ornaments ,vermillion
feminine decor
on this auspicious day their beauty
you just cant ignore
sanjay nirupam their bihari
brother they adore
a political tamasha
a jamboree
but now a part of mumbai
folklore ..
chath puja
bihari manoos
your heart
he is out to score
he is a hardcore
not a bhaiyya anymore

Buzznet will be back shortly

Cosmetic makeover very costly
Buzznet will be back shortly
Buzzbot has gone to take a pee
Buzznet will be back shortly
In a blue toilet
Ramrod making love adroitly
Buzznet will be back shortly
Women he is fucking a bit portly
Robot fucking androgynous female
Buzznet will be back shortly
Watching from the peephole
Horny attendant a bit courtly
Buzznet will be back shortly
Condom tore accidently
No not dog ghostly
Hold on said the attendant
I will get you one
If you let me fuck her free
Non violently
Buzznet will be back shortly
Now the babe is
going down on her knees
Buzznet will be back shortly
paramour poetic pause
despondently ..
I end my poem somnolently
Buzzbot a disaster impotently
Unfeatured porn phots
Buzznet will be back shortly.

man and his madness

is the internet wire
that connects
to god and his godliness..
it is we with the wrong steps that make a mess..
pawned in our own houses wrong moves of chess
they also stand and do nothing whom god bless
with all our sartorial smartness..
we meet the maker
stark naked no dress
just our putrefying flesh
our soul first to leave the sinking ship
out of the mesh..

faith can move mountains

faith can move mountains
a record they continuosly replay
invoke the name of allah
in his name by proxy they slay
the new so called islamists
wearing hijabs like women
they board trains
faceless they kill
the innocent prey
every day ..
bow their heads 5 rakat namaz
and ready for the next prey..
truth cannot be hidden
in any other way..
the minarets in the desert
are quiet and deserted
uncondoning the so called spirtual
terrorists and rogue mullahs
have their way
the talibans who hate humanity
in an urban landscape hold sway
yes faith can move mountains
when the star of david bombs
the soul of lebanon
in the name of terrorism they say
acid rain on the souls of the helpless
in the name of hezbollah .. they kill all
those who come in their way..
a white iron fortress of hate
and a knight in silver armour
st george will show us a new way..
faith can move mountains
biblical blabbering papal placebo
for sickness that wont go away...

what am i

what am i
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1
am i muslim
am i hindu
am i christian
am i a jew
what am i
no i am not human
it is being hman
that they dupe
me with
divide me
deride me
make me cry
offer me heaven
as a bribe
punish me with hell
the last and final call
of a lost tribe
what am i
a sunni
a shia
no not a tabbliki
no not a jammati
no not a wahabbi
no not a ahle hadees
no not a agha khani
what am i
no not a bahai
i am a blind man
a stick of my helplessness
misguiding me
with other peoples views
and other peoples eyes
what am i
a cypher yes
a human
i am not
a cowardice
i do deny
am i a hijda
am i transgender
am i a eunuch
am i a hermophrodite
what am i..
i am what i am
a tear muffled to a cry
a distant land
within the country of my birth
india ..a karbala
i dont deny
in my heart
lives a god
what am i

moinuddin chishti the khwajah of ajmer

wires of all faith
on the soul
of a holy shrine
of the garib nawaz
of ajmer
all at home
on this giant monitor
prayers mouse clicked
on the keyboard
of reverence
of moinuddin chisthi
the khwajah of ajmer
their sorrows
their pain
unhealed wounds
they bare
ask for
of their present condition
these helpless hapless
battered bruised
tattered souls who
come to the confluence
of inter rivers that meet at ajmer
swept on the shores
begging for mercy
a pinch of sprinkled
loving care .
the khwajah gives
without reservation
for the self preservation
his beloved who come
as his children
knocking the gates
of his darbar at ajmer

Metrosexual Sadhu at Pushkar

These are mod sadhus who make their living posing for foreign tourists , doing the various asanas with the backdrop of the Pushkar lake, and they are into big bucks.. heavily accented Hinglish speaking avtaars of a new more vibrant resurging India most of them are pure con..into drugs...

he is a con
he also knows i know
he is a con
dupes tourists
dusk to dawn
this imposter sadhu
wicked born

metrosexual sadhu no1

like a spider
spiritually crawls
a web
of bricks
as a wall
a metrosexual
hinglish speaking sadhu
at pushkar
yogic asanas
on the lake
tourists enthrall
paid extravagantly
by one and all
surya namaskar
his head
like a dreaded coconut
on his prayer shawl
the yanks enjoying
fantrastic fantasies
all playing ball

The trinket bawa of Ajmer

at char yaar
he can be found
on his hand necklaces
for sale pearls, agate
imitation jewelery
unwound ..
rings too for sale
divine interpretation
he does kaif
moves , dances
soars in the heavens
his monkey
leaping mind
while his body
tortoise shelled
touches the ground
his eyes whorls
going round and round and round...