soon the sweeper
will come kick his ass
with a municipal broom
paved sorrow requires no room
cheek in the mouth grins a bike
metrosexual meanderings fume
a new coinage of defiance
dhoom
(doom
Sleep
Metaphoric Dickensian sleep
A world dangerously
Connecting to
Mr Micawber and Mr. Uriah Heep
Fat boy Pickwick Papers
Also fast asleep
Aunty Pegotty
Barkis is willing
A promise
This Valentines Day
The heart will keep
If this picture does not wake your conscience nothing can.
Stop calling yourself human
The tragedy of a girl child
Surrogate motherhood now
For tomorrows woman
Shut eyes we don’t see
Yes we are inhuman
Girl child
Today
Tomorrow
A woman
Continuous
Circle of pain
Tortured inhuman
for profit and gain
luckily ungifted
to goddess yellamma
a devdasis destiny
she wont complain
shri shirdi sai babas
blessings remain
a childs story
a womans pain
read her eyes ignore my poem..its all written within her eyelashes..
Girl child
Born in captivity
At birth
On this planet
Of mother earth
Depreciation
Devalued as she grows
Her life not worth
Robbed of her jewels of mirth
After death too
Hung by a noose
Such is her
Spiritual rebirth
A travesty of a truth
You don’t have to unearth
By PETER BAKER
Washington Post
WASHINGTON — President Bush bluntly accused Iranian agents Wednesday of providing sophisticated explosives to kill U.S. troops in Iraq but said he did not know whether they were acting on orders of the Islamic republic's leaders and denied using the allegations as a pretext to go to war with Tehran.
The president spent much of the hour-long televised session in the East Room addressing skepticism of his government's assertions regarding Iran and fears of a widening regional conflict.
"The idea that somehow we're manufacturing the idea that the Iranians are providing (explosives) is preposterous," Bush said. Repeating a reporter's question, he added: "Does this mean you're trying to have a pretext for war? No. It means I'm trying to protect our troops."
Bush rejected suggestions that his administration has provided conflicting accounts of the Iranian leadership's involvement in arming Iraqi extremists. On Sunday, U.S. military officials briefing reporters in Baghdad on the condition of anonymity said that the "highest levels" of Iran's government were involved, but Marine Gen. Peter Pace, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, later said he would not say the Iranian government is complicit.
"There's no contradiction that the weapons are there and they were provided by the Quds force," an Iranian paramilitary unit, Bush said. He added: "We know that. And we also know that the Quds force is a part of the Iranian government. That's a known. What we don't know is whether or not the head leaders of Iran ordered the Quds force to do what they did."
Bush warns Iran of arming Iraq
Weapons of mass destruction
No fire no spark
Wingless truth posing as lark
Imperialistic hegemony
Enslaving the free will of a nation
Is truth that is stark
War is a reminder that
Peace street walks
Turbulent times
Unhealing tasks
Presidents wearing
Satanic masks
Where is freedom liberty equality
The unfortunate ask
Photo courtesy google images
standing on
a sandy mound
like a Glib Altered rock
of the celestial celibacy
of my Cock
sculptured
testicular castanets
the eeriness
a silence
re-echoing in
my jock
vaginal vicissitudes
pursuing me round the clock
my abstinence
my continence
on which
dangles a lock
tied
yes C words
that mock
the chutzpah of my
coiffured cock
cataclysmic
catalytic
catastrophic
catatonic
catapulted
cathartic
colorfast
carthasis
cauterized
colloquialism
confusion
of my cock
cease fired
centrepieced
catacombs
cockscomb
crevices
a cipher
that wont unlock
bombed out craters on the planet of my heart
these were fields of freedom loving fun
cybernetic curiosity one sided love
tore them all apart ..
mounds burying all my emotionally
fucked body parts
like prawns put out to dry at carter road
shrivelled , fishy smell that they impart
later perhaps served at her table as
a culinary cunt a la carte ..
love toothpicked morsel
till death do us a part.
O Shoe O Sand
Funereal cold winding sheets of water
And my uncorked last stand
My Bald pate and my Bejeweled hand
Just barely visible and O shoe O sand
Yes I am drowning in the Red Sea of your Heart
This was what the Maker intended
A suitable end to an unsuitable start.
I could have floated in the Dead Sea of your heart
Undrowned..but misery my epitaph
Scrawled in blood
On the blood shredded waters of your heart.
You love
Love more beautiful and more smart
I shall die untenanted,,
Unrepentant Unweeping waters of you heart.
Cyberspaced love
Uncrafted Unrafted fiercly furious waters of your heart.
O Shoe O sand bare feet minstrel sings
In the cold wall to wall waltzing waters of your heart
explanation. for the very smart. or reader of hidden words.
Shoe is my phallic longings to have been hung from the door of her heart and sand is cotton wool that you throw in a mans eye when you know he is a dwarf dimwitted.. Dumb..drivelled doggerelled to a deaf and dead heart...
self exiled from the domain of your love
a caring and sharing that was my alcove
i love you , i love you , i do love you by Jove
would elope with you to the heavens above
no more cringing comments on your post
no more tears in your inbox…host.
will miss word fencing, and your arrows at my heart.
my new year resolution and what a start.
in some other planet and some other time
you will be mine you will be mine.
a love that even you cant define
buzznet broodings now offline
to a blog goddess
I am a girl child
She said
I was born alive
They want me dead
Unfed
Unread
Older
To an older man
They will have me wed
To make more children
a male heir from
my crumbling marital bed
darkness and more darkness ahead
my race my womanhood
was from time
immemorial bled
male dominated
kept as chattel instead
a holy spirit
languishing in
fungus fed bread
Lying on the pavement
Locks on my kismet
No hope no future
I foresee
A coarse blanket
To cover my remorse
Bent branches
Fruitless tree
Me
Dying in captivity
Born free
Is it society’s fault
Stitched lips
Silenced guilt
The Turner Road
Traffic signal kid
Begging
As vehicular traffic
Comes to an halt
Traffic haftagiri
Beggar mafia
By default
The ongoing system
Assault
Watching eyes
Of everyone
Exalt
Open wounds
Rubbing more salt
Thou shall not
An empty broken
Commandment
Giving way to
Thou shalt
This would be Mother of News
If I wrote about a beggar child
A truant cop and a sexual assault.
Life is a giant wheel
Base of bigoted concrete
Feelings
Melting steel
Man hates man
To God squeal
The world running
On power politics
Religion block headedness
Lies tapes hacked sex appeal
Seen through prismatic eyes
Surreal
Man in a hurry
To attain nirvana
Slipping on the
Uncommon sense
Of a banana peel
The man who helps him
He sues
no big deal
Man is not even a
Dumb animals ideal
A thought
Even an insect
Does not conceal
Me my thoughts
My hopes my failures
My extended life
Suspended in mid air
Dangerously
Blowing winds
From the north come and scare
That I stoically bear
Soullessness
Polyestered
Wash and wear
Jawlocked
Wordlessly
In a snare
they do
who dare
hard drive
overdriven
beyond external repair
spoil the rod
child don’t spare
those critics bound
by plastered posteriors
to their armchairs
religiosity corrupted
in lifes mela
of an ongoing fair
dreams of disillusionment
fucked nightmares.
Yes my poetry is human
Unlike you it swears
A wheel within a wheel within a wheel
Pictures on mans consciousness reveal
Wordy worthlessness as spiel
Myopic misplaced mindlessness
Some see stab unpeel
Pictures hacked into the soul of my blog
Big deal as they viciously unreel
You need to be a blogger..to understand
The labyrinthine remorse that I feel
Wounds on the inner parchment of my Faith
Will take ages before they heal
I don’t sell pictures or my words
come take what you want don’t steal
dharma karma unrevolving medicine wheel
they decapitate the soul of a blog
while the body post motionlessly kneels.
Me and my shia ideals…
in a kangaroo court of appeals
horse driven mule headed automobiles
photoblogging my angst
is not a way I earn my family’s meals
yes I love humanity
in all color caste or creed
ritualism cultural creativity
as fiery bloody piercing naked
ascetic photo journalism
is why with this medium
I am head over heels.
Mans child
In Mans Junk yard
Scales of Justice
Is all that guard
Recyclable emotions
Life is hard
Raddi paper, bottle
broken hearts pin pointed shard
intelligence
devious device
the best of man retard
take an inch
they take away your yard
mans child seldom
is mans just reward
I can discard the pictures that look similar but each picture tells a new story of the Hijdas Pain..the travails , the road ahead cobbled and precarious..
These are the poorer lot of Indian transgenders from the South called Aravanis..
That they stopped the ricksha, and after I told them about my Hijda Guru Laxmi Narayan Tripathi , and Baby Hijda Guru of Park Site they allowed me to take their pictures..And I shoot what I see, no manipulations, no props , simple Hijda pictures of Hijda despair ..
Earlier they wanted money from me, but they did not insist, this was because they thought I was a foreigner..Indians as it is keep their distance from the Hijda community.. and it is more fear than anything else..And the Hijda is human like them, but old folks tale of Hijda kidnapping kids has added to their miserable lot..
The Hijda community is the most misunderstood , ostracized and looked down upon..
My life is full of Hijda encounters, I meet them, it is pre-destined.. I dont go searching for them, they meet me anyway..and invariably I have my camera..
Strange but when I dont have my camera I dont meet Hijdas, you might not believe this one..
I think Photography is a very deep science of the transcedental mind..and yes photography does help you capture Hijda souls as you add to their life span on the cyberspace..
And I dont do this for getting any extra mileage ..or money or fame or celebrity status.
There is no personal landmark to achieve , but than I do not have the charisma nor the time like Marc de Clercq to stay with the Hijdas and show their picture story..
rest of the pictures at Flickr
he is mentally usound
disowned by his family
he is not well
they say he is
under the devils spell
bandra bazar road
is where he dwells
living a spectre
on an hopeless hell
he had in better times
fallen in love
with a girl called angel
but she got married
she ditched him
thats what they tell
his world crashed
bitterly beaten
hating womanly faces
womanly smell
a madman ..insane
crazy ..societys rebel
those who pass him by
give him a few coins
and wish him well
this is a true story of unachieved love..
She watches all your moves
The Queen of Hearts
She who loves you
With without warts
but you ignoble creature
want someone elses tits clits and twats
The Queen of Spade
for whom you have the hots
has a Jocker giving her the shots
seminal salvation
as forget me nots
a troubled King
of both the Queens
your destruction plots
as your fetid soul
in your decomposed body rots
“The power of the white world is threatened whenever a black man refuses to accept the white world's definitions.”
James Arthur Baldwin quotes
“The white man's happiness cannot be purchased by the black man's misery”
Frederick Douglass quotes
“I detest racialism, because I regard it as a barbaric thing, whether it comes from a black man or a white man”
Nelson Mandela quotes
“I believe in freedom for everyone, not just the black man.”
Bob Marley quotes
“I am really enjoying the new Martin Luther King Jr stamp - just think about all those white bigots, licking the backside of a black man”
Dick Gregory quotes
in the darkness of a dark mans heart
a burning flame of oppression
a flickering flame of retribution
he takes and he gives
as an overwhelmimng moment
in times boundless eternity
he lives
reminding man
each time he fails and falters
whom he has ceated
from a drop of a tear
he loves and forgives
Love Poetry Hate Racism
there is more poverty
in religion
than poverty on the streets
man plays god
man god cheats
humilty hope humanity
with oppression arrogance
unseats
you can still be a poet
your own john keats
write 9000 blogs
in one night delete
hard liners
power brokers
empty sounds
from distant drumbeats
with a fatwa for
being a saffronised muslim
a shia pandit
your sanctimonious ass greets
yes hope ...on an indenting slope
slitheringly slips
the darkness you grope
the older kids oversee the young kids
gamble and dope
burning end
both sides of the rope
hope with which
the hopeless
the homeless
cope
time and tide
with fucked fate
elope
They are drug addicts
The whole world knows
At Buzznet they were
Sleepy Joes
Dead to the world as
They dozed
Pictorially
Laziness
Imposed
Municipal woes
Unopposed
Sweeping emotions
Sorrowless
Superimposed
Thanks to a picture
Their life and lifestyle
Cybernetically overexposed
Pictorial poetry metamorphosed
An account on earth unforeclosed
Man to man juxtaposed
Beauty
in the eye of the beholder
Muses the sacrificial goat
For no fault of his..
At the altar of humanly appeasement
The best of him smote
Scriptured solemnity
Memorized to rote
Anomalous world
Anomaly denote
Battles embittered
Waiting to be fought
Deleted dilemma
of a blog he never wrote
even man in mans world
is a sacrificial goat
pieces of him butchered
good heavens they gloat
Means completely balanced
cows milk better than moms milk
street poetry dancing silks
monstrous man and his ilk
Man
A boon or a curse
Born as a child
Mother the nurse
Adulthood
Wife
Life gets worse
More demands
On the purse
Suicide
Life aborted
The ignominy
Of a hearse
My words
Wordless reality
Realistically
Terse
A Silent God
your profit or your loss
wont reimburse.
Man has taken a leap
Perched on the moon
Plunging the oceans deep
Yet at home sad to say
Children loveless
Born on a garbage heap
A future that has tears
Frozen but weep
Pictorial plethora
In the album of
Street life..Seep
The seeds that you sow
Are fruits that you reap.
