A few days left for the New Year
Man half asleep under the Wisdom Tree
dreams of a better life and a handful of prosperity
he has unposted letters to be sent to God
asking for respect and not just charity
man who born helpless poor
wants to live in peace and peaceful dignity
away from racist hate that nestles
like a whore in the heart and soul of poetry
the warmongers of poetic hate
from a racist poety site to a
photography site relentlessly
pursuing me
blocking my right of creative expression
my freedom of poetic speech
harbingers of hate and animosity.
even those who live in an English land
and champion their minority
thinly disguised as Indian haters
insecure in their pompous creativity
a searchlight a must on their
hateful nefarious activity
colluding with the might of a racist authority
this was shot outside the bandra post office
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Under the Wisdom Tree
Xmas and New Year is for the Rich
Xmas and New Year is for the rich
the poor are a happy
lot wearing the same clothes
day in and day out
new clothes they dont have to stitch
no Christmas consumerism
no delirious demented sales pitch
the poor though biting the dust
about God and his sense of Injustice
do not ever bitch
born in a hovel buried
hastily in a garbage ditch
The Muslim Poor Man
outside the mosque
oblivious to the maddening
world moving by he sits
writing his lifes
ailing story
in bits
now that time permits
two days before bakra idd
the slaughtering
of the sacrificial goats
lacs spent on kurbani
the sacred sacrifice
while he lives
in the pits
time and tide
lashing him
a few more
black eyed hits
yes he is a poor muslim man
a small frugal head
yet the skull cap fits
the salah his obligation
to omniscient Allah
come sickness bad health
he never omits
Merry Xmas and Happy New Year
Santa comes year after year
and though he brings gifts
peace hope happiness
on his favorite reindeer
its still not clear
why the human cheek
shelters the sobbing tear
nothing has changed
says Santa even this year
people living in poverty
racist environment
agonizing fear
alabaster faces
that mock and leer
poetic smiles
behind evil veneer
in cyberspace
today even the good shepherd
takes his lambs to slaughter
brings no cheer
on black faces
cow dung they smear
they kick you in the front
they kick your posterior
paying tribute
to the birth of Christ
life and resurrection
the end is near
the poor colored man pays for
the sins of the killers of the Messiah
proselytize him to the Lord endear
convert him make him a Christian
Merry Xmas Yule time
Happy New Year
Groping Santa Claus
A woman was charged with sexual assault after allegedly groping Santa Claus at a Connecticut mall, Tuesday, Dec. 18, 2007. The mall Santa told police the woman had touched him inappropriately while sitting on his lap.
(CBS/AP) A woman was charged with sexual assault after allegedly groping Santa Claus at a shopping mall.
Sandrama Lamy, 33, faces fourth-degree sexual assault and breach of peace charges.
www.cbsnews.com/stories/2007/12/18/national/main3628471.s...
Santas have a very tough time
women groping for their family jewels
squeezing them like sweet lime
now this Santa was a gay man
the thought was disgusting
not sublime
he would prefer making
little cheeky buttock-ed
children sit on his heaving lap
and teach them nursery rhyme
santarchy and some
pedophile grime
Indians Dogs Not Allowed
racism lives behind guarded poetic doors
a world of black and white poets
universal color of blood racist sores
less poetry more hate
pimps pretending to be poets
poets pretending to be whores
colored men made to walk on fours
Indians and dogs not allowed
lungs bursting encores
in the modern cybernetic
world of hate
racism over
anti-racism scores
welcome to racial profiling
indoors and outdoors
pompous pedantic poetic bores
acid rain on colored skins
as hate down pours.
Doomed Destiny of Man
sheathed in a polythene gunny bag
sleeps the last vestige
of an exhibit called man
tired hungry dreamless pangs
his doomed destiny on the shores
of despair his head bangs..
and lying to marginalize
him death bares her fangs
Yule Time of Hate
in a few days here in mumbai
or in the western world
the birth of jesus christ
they will celebrate
those that talk
pretentiously
of love peace
yule time
but inherently
the colored man hate
this is part of their mental make up
their bad karmic state
laying traps
they lie in wait
yes with a poisonous
poetic dart
their victims bait
they pretend also to
be champions
of anti racism
call themselves minority
than crash the gate
the colored mans
cybernetic existence
to terminate
searchlight but
than its far too late
in a white mans world
white mans travesty of justice
the sins of a generation
will not expatiate
The Traffic of Life and the Beggar Girl
she was first a little baby
hanging on a beggar childs waist
she became a toddler much in haste
now as she steadily grows
her vulnerability
in an egg shell encased
like her mother her elder sister
15 years already
with child
she has the bitter
sweet kernel
of life to taste
an aborted childhood
like a moving vehicle
on lifes running traffic
at some other signal
misplaced .
Falling At Her Feet One Last Time
asking her
to give me
a second chance
although
i am deleted
from her fucked
consciousness
she rapes me
in my dreams
a cosmic romance
wastelands
cruel expanse
she side steps
my poetic vision
without even giving
me a second glance
she has left
me for another
heavenly endowed
guy whom
she lovingly
calls lance
no he is a local guy
not that earlier one
the guy who was from
France he killed
himself with an overdose
without collecting
his hotel advance
as for the cosmic poet
a testicular tragedy
in a trance
a pauper
who does not
sell his pictures
poems
no finance
one hand clapping
one leg dance
to dear friend
imam siddique
" Stop Writing Poetry "she said
you keep getting into trouble
you and your hot air
balloon head
the poet racists of
a hate filled poetry world
want you debarrred and dead
with the connivance
of hackers
website managements misled
stop writing poetry she said
with your poetry blogs
you dont earn your daily bread
its poetic truth
that racism exists
in cyberspace
that they dread
many a
poet from the dark nether world
the racist poets have bled
aldo , arizona angel and also our own fred
their juggernaut wheels
over dead bodies they sped
these academicians
pompous poets well read
the law of nemesis
will catch up
surely
before they get ahead
i dedicate these lines
to trade howlin hazell
ray lucero and ted
Sounds of Silence
She is a beggar girl I met near the Mount Mary steps..
may she always be happy
may she always be touched
by the rays of love and sunshine
may she always be young aglow
may she have no worries
on her brow may she live
long become a mother
a good wife married
to the right fellow
such are my thoughts
as a father a grand father
from my heart towards
her heart flow a picture
of life as a poem
I shot quite some time ago
it was a blank post
titled sounds of silence
why I left it blank textless
poemless at that time
I dont know
perhaps it was comment
at facebook on this link
by my best friend benn bell
sound of one hand clapping
that let in a breath of fresh air
through my souls window
or was it something more
or am I just a muslim
a hindu a christian
beneath the skin
of man yes or no
or am I the shadow
of a human god
who does not
live in heaven
but below
in the darkness
of my shadow
I am humbled by my friends both at Flickr and Facebook without their love I could not ever dream of shooting pictures as poem their love their warmth nurtures my mind ..into using the words littered as garbage in my head as a poem of life..
So I dedicate this poem as to my Flickr and Facebook friends..thankfully I dont have a single friend on Blogspot or Word Press...
The Queen of Hearts
She watches all your moves
The Queen of Hearts
She who loves you
With without warts
but you ignoble creature
want someone else
s tits clits and twats
The Queen of Spade
for whom you have the hots
has a Joker 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
Angel of Deceit and the Mad Boy
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..
Carrying The Burden of Fucked Womanhood
born as a woman
an eternal slave
to a man god and man
when the world began
the most fucked item
in a cosmic plan
the day
she was created
her luck ran
carrying the burden
of her fucked
womanhood
on the soul of man
My Bubble Has Burst
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
although
i have deleted her
from my fucked
consciousness
in the toilet
on the wisdom seat
holding a vital
part of me
for her i lust
a soliloquy
a seminal curse
no she was not my first
but she was the first
to quench my languishing
libido and my lust
19"waist and a 38'bust
snooty upper crust
in her circle
they called her
an office slut
no ifs but lots of butt
many a times
to emotionalize my pain
my wrists i cut
more than me
she loved a
heavenly endowed guy
a dumb docile mutt
more well versed
as for me
my bubble has burst
a testicular tragedy
love disbursed
roles reversed
What You Buy Someone Else Will Sell
He is guy who is known as the Bhangar guy , he buys your junk..a lot of stuff that you bought , and now you are dead and gone , is being sold by your relatives or next of kin..
Life is about space , you lost out on your space , someone else has occupied it , your photography books , your classics, all your artifacts that you collected from the flea market ever Friday is now going back from where it came.
Chor Bazar the quintessential flea market is a market of lost illusions , is a market of lost memories , what you bargained for once belonged to a connoisseur of Art , once he broke the link with the world his stuff to was left orphaned , it had to go , it was bad karma , negative energy.
I shot bad karma on sale at the flea market Chor Bazar..
When I shifted my shop that housed all my antiques over 225 old cameras , books etc I , very much alive sold it all for peanuts as there was no space in the new shop, wife did not want a single item at home as there is already quite a bit , I gave in..without regrets.
Now its a sad moment god forbid when you sell of your most prized possessions in a distress sale, it hurts rips your guts but such is life..it cares for no one but itself..
A 5.30 am I am poetizing the memory of a pain we all go through one time or the other..yes this a sad tribute to those moments I spent at Chor Bazar..
I bought back a house full of memories I sold out too.
what you buy
you will leave behind
when you die
once you are
safely buried
your stuff
will be sold
to the bhangarwala
not a tear
or a cry
fuck
not even
a good bye
as you
masturbate
your sorrow
in the grave
where you lie
for a day or two
they will come
light a few candles
talk about
you your cosmic poems
your blogs
while you
hear them
disgusted
shuteye
the woman you loved
who left you for another man
will come to your grave with a wet hanky
pretentiously sigh
although you are completely deleted
by her fucked consciousness
she has a more heavenly
much better endowed stand by
you the barefeet cosmic poet
of mumbai
who did not sell your poems
or your pictures
they are safe on the internet
people at least read them see them
as they browse and pass by
you were slightly fucked in the head
churning poem after poem
but you were not a bad guy
RIP
cosmic poet
you are fucking virgins
they are still wallowing
in a pig sty
giving head to hijras
at a sleazy lodge nearby
updated
29 March 2010
dedicated to anthony posey from new orleans
desposyni..
"Why was Yazid not human as Imam Hussain"
There are those of us Indians who thirst for America a gren card , a blond wife and multi colored kids..American accent- the works..
And you have a practicing psychiatrist full blooded American from Manhattan New York..
who relives India.
His karmic soul flounders in dust and heat squalor and poverty.
He saw my Moharam pictures on the net and wanted to shoot the Shia pain so he has come to Mumbai to shoot Chehlum.
Habib Nasser invited us to a Juloos at Kurla last night and Dr Glenn Losack shot the first pictures of scourging s, of forehead cutting, and kept on saying Fuck Man I dont believe it..I covered his ass and his body from the flying blades..
And though it was a several thousand crowd, Dr Glenn Losack did manage to shoot some pictures.Before the Juloos could end he told me he was dead beat and tired so we aborted the finale , where about 100 Taboot holding guys would cut their forehead, and the lighting was miserable.. flash no help.
So this American has his dreams tied up to India..
After two days he will climb up with me to shoot the Urus at Haji Malang..
Yes he is as crazy about Rafaees as I am crazy about Hijdas eunuchs and transgenders who will be at Haji Malang in large numbers..
And we Habib Nasser and I are making sure that Dr Glenn Losack gets the best of Chehlum in Mumbai the Shia cemetery a war zone of blood and gore..
Even my Shia friends and the community were impressed to see this foreigner in a black tshirt , black jacket..Yes he respects our religiosity and understands our pain or Ghame Hussain..
He asked me a question that stumped me completely..
Why was Yazid not as human as Imam Hussain..
Dangerously Drugged
on the street corner of despair
by cruel fate he got mugged
dangerously drugged
delusions debugged
lifes train as it chugged
his pain another
man shrugged
he got what was coming
he said unplugged
ha ha ha he humbugged
a cross fire
he got slugged
Beggar Women on the Move
forget
the beggar women
even beggary
you cant remove
a money spinner
mafia backed
hafta generating
they all approve
system sucks
wont improve
pain going
round and round
and round and round
the groove
a poetic thought
a street reality
i dont
have to prove
dedicated to aldo colucciello
Eyelessness of Despair
the blind beggar woman
just darkness
in her life she swears
her wretchedeness
she bares
she takes your few coins
the misery of her soul she shares
she is unaware of the world around her
or your worldly stares
gouged out lamps
sockets blinded as a pair
being born a woman
in the throes of a mans world
a mans god
deadly defiant demagogic
who has your womanhood in a snare
Both Are Fucked So To Speak
a bitch of a life
on a street oblique
into their lives
a poetic peek
a leper beggar woman
a dog jowl n cheek
both are fucked
so to speak
their fucked life
even time
wont tweak
their birth part
of their bad streak
pathos pain and passion
of the dumb and meek
good photography
is poetizing a picture
fuck technique
a pictorial thought
some mystique
a poetic pause
a pause unique
on the soul of
pomposity
the cosmic poet
takes a leak
A Funeral March For The Cosmic Poet
This is is an Obituary of the Barefeet Blogger of Mumbai aka Cosmic Poet
the romantic
hero of our tale
this cruel world
bids farewell
his funeral
procession
trumpeting
his death knell
following him
in tears
fred miller
glenn losack bernie
anthoney posey
randy and benn bell
facebook friends
for life
including
Nauman Merry Rebel
all sad at the passing
away of a cosmic poet
also a street photographer
his poems his pictures
he gave free to Google Buzz
Flickr Blogspot Wordpress
a blog within blog
in an eggshell
the soul of his karmic
poetry he did not sell
although
she has now deleted
him completely
from her fucked
consciousness
she silently prays
he does not go to hell
death where is thy sting
a raised erection
from his winding sheet
begins to swell
all is well that ends well
The Jain Sadhvi
once
in another time
another place
among riches
wealth she stayed
through her
opulence
her life
she displayed
than one day
she renounced
it all
at the feet
of lord Mahavira
her dues
to the world
she paid
barefeet
spreading
the message
of hope and peace
healing
while she prayed
giving
the homeless
light and shade
walking on
a path of thorns
unafraid
When a Woman Renounces Life she becomes One With God...
Education Has Killed Humanity Too
a child walks to school
without giving a glance
this is life anew
he does what
his adults do
walk away
no issue
education
with its logic
semantics
debate and diatribe
has killed humanity too
if someone met
with an accident
fuck he wont rescue
the system sucks
the fault lies
with me and you
values
of human love
human life
unfortunately
we have no
time to pursue
I am in great human pain as I clothe my pictures with words from the shame of reality..
Man Stonewalled
Man
a painful creature
created by god
the greatest artist
a gift to humanity
but with nature
his surroundings
wont coexist
any attempt
to change him
he will resist
now on gods
black list
his soul
Satan
has kissed
from the garden
of earth
also
dismissed
All Dog Owners Must Be Leashed
all dog owners
must be leashed
held by their pet dogs
at carter road at least
because dogs are human
man is beast animals
since time immemorial
he has fleeced
with his hunger
for wealth destruction
the soul of humanity
lies deceased
Yogic Kundalini One Leg Photography
Kundalini yoga is a physical and meditative discipline, comprising a set of simple techniques that uses the mind, senses and body to create a communication between "mind" and "body". Kundalini yoga focuses on psycho-spiritual growth and the body's potential for maturation, giving special consideration to the role of the spine and the endocrine system in the understanding of yogic awakening (Sovatsky, 1998).
Kundalini Yoga concentrates on psychic centers or chakras in the body in order to generate a spiritual power, which is known as kundalini energy.
Kundalini is the potential form of prana or life force, lying dormant in our bodies. It is conceptualized as a coiled up serpent (literally, 'kundalini' in Sanskrit is 'That which is coiled.' (Sanskrit kund, "to burn"; kunda, "to coil or to spiral") but some claim that it should be translated 'lock of hair of the Beloved') lying at the base of our spine, which can spring awake when activated by spiritual disciplines.
wikipedia
Chakra (pronunciation (help·info)) is a Sanskrit term (refer etymology section) meaning wheel. There is a vast literature on chakra models, philosophy and lore that underpin many philosophical systems and spiritual energetic practices, religious observance and personal discipline. Chakras function and relate within the systemic suite of the human bodymind. The philosophical theories and models of chakras as systemic vortices of energy were identified through the existential [1] mystical practice of yoga in Ancient India where they were first codified.
The tantric chakras
Tantric chakras
Sahasrara
Ajna
Vishuddha
Anahata
Manipura
Swadhisthana
Muladhara
BinduTantra (Shakta or Shaktism) describes eight primary inner chakras:[]
Muladhara (Sanskrit: Mūlādhāra) tip of the tailbone, spiritual potential
Swadhisthana (Sanskrit: Svādhiṣṭhāna) tailbone, unconscious emotion or desire
Manipura (Sanskrit: Maṇipūra) navel, dynamism
Anahata (Sanskrit: Anāhata) heart, love based decisions
Vishuddha (Sanskrit: Viśuddha) neck, discrimination and wisdom
Ajna (Sanskrit: Ājñā) eyebrow, mind
Bindu (Sanskrit: Bindu) a dot at the back of the head, prayer and Aum
Sahasrara (Sanskrit: Sahasrāra) top of head, higher consciousness
blistering barefeet
on one leg he stands
a camera a lens
that is shivas third eye
two hands
wave after waves lashing
the mindlessness of sea sands
releasing the serpent uncoiling the yogic kundalini
vision expands tantric photography
that controls the environment
respect commands
creating metaphoric mysticism
energizing pictorial eulogy
from devastated wastelands
chakras within chakras
withstands
within the aperture of a timed moment
that the soul of a picture understands
Seminal Leak A Gutter Speaks
open leaking gutters
of our beloved city
is a norm
poetic almost
an art form
yes we are indians
we are proud
if not today
tomorrow
we will surely
reform
no water to drink
we wait for a storm
our leaders
busy with currency
garlands
round their swollen necks
on the platform
politicians are better
than bollywood actors
perfectly
they perform
money
the soul of the matter
like vultures
they swarm
blow hot blow cold
blow warm
hi ram
-
Shah-e-Mardan Sher-e-Yazdan Quwat-e-Parwardigar Lafata Ila Ali La Saif Ila Zulfiqar , originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1 ....
-
Dargah of Hazrat Syed Ali Mira Datar Unava Gujrat , a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr. HAZRAT SYED ALI MIRA DATAR'S G...
