Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Street Beauty Has a Shelf Life Too

if you look deep into her eyes
you will see a future that
stares out at you
once she was toddler
on a child's waist
begging at a traffic
signal of life
how fast she grew
she has no clue
she is innocence
does it matter
whether she is a
muslim chistian
or hindu
she begs near
salman khans house
her heart throb its true
street beauty a perishable
commodity has a shelf
life too

The Poetry of Life

life stares at her straight in the face
a poor beggar girl caught in a maze
twinkling dreams in her eyes
on the streets she stays
the poetry of life touches her ablaze
her dignity her girlish grace
untouched by the vagaries
of time in full display
a promise a hope a praise
dumbfounded in daze
a sound of silence
a tune her soul plays
a street screenplay
her life through a corridor
open doorways
looking into my camera mind
I am OK she says
taking my blessings
some money as alms
we part ways

subsequent visits
I never saw
her again
a sad thought betrays
the tragedy of womanhood
body made of flesh
feet made of clay
she came with the winds
now gone away

High Contrast

the future
the past
a future
a present
a total outcast
poetry of life
words not bombast
pedagogic pedantic
wont last
through simple
touching the
heart and soul
a blog
street forecast
high contrast
not typed cast
the camera
holistically healing humanity
beyond color creed or cast

Child Labor Made In India

i have to work
or daddy will beat
the shit
at home
cant play
cant sit
on childhood
of a poor mans kid
we spit
child labor
made in india
life as usual
your fucked
wont hit
we are somnolent
used to this
street side skit
we turn a nelsons eye
give a fucked system
a clean chit
not governance
not the neta
it is us
our collective ethos
the fucked culprit
we know it
we are ashamed
we wont admit
pay under the table
everything legit

I Swear By Google Buzz

The Madness of the Mind

She sits near Paradise Cinema Mahim..

I try to shoot her when I can either from close quarters or from the cab..

Thought for the Day

They should make Google Buzz compatible with Facebook a click and your post from Google Buzz goes to Twitter and Facebook..
I prefer Google Buzz to Blogspot with its fucked Word Verification an insult to the creativity of a Bloggers Mind .
The Blogspot Developer dude needs a desperate makeover..

Fuck I Dont Know If This Was A Close Shave

The Surrogate Street Mother

do you really need
a womb
to taste motherhood
every night
you see your old man
on the road
in out
a wrestling
a child
the most
precious commodity
no doubt
given on rent
on the waist
of another child
with a cough
dopey eyes
to the beggar mafia
of human
they flout
a childhood
a girlhood
all washed out
her legs
she knows
lies the
of her womanhood
much before she
gains puberty
another sickly little
one will sprout
the street surrogate mother
with someone else s
print out
womb could not be loaded
child cannot be displayed
the server timed out

I shot the kids at the Turner Road Traffic signal each time I walked to my old work place off Waterfield road Bandra , or while returning from work and I honed my mind my soul to pain , I shot the hijras along with these kids vying for begging space.

I moved I stopped passing by , but this is the main artery for me to go towards Juhu or Versova so I met them off and on.

As this is a high end traffic signal the fine for begging was slapped on the kids and the hijras Rs 1200 or imprisonment , they paid came back moved to the Pamposh Linking Road signal.

On 15 August and on 26 January they sell our countries flags..but their mot lucrative period , when they work round the clock is the Mount Mary Feast..the little girls all walk talk like Katrina Kaif the poor childs role model, the beggar boys all ape Salman Khan to the hilt and their favorite picture is Wanted..

Once in a while I sit with them chat with them when their folks are not around..they dont care about god or politics..both gone to seed.

I am their role model because I look a bad Xerox copy of Shakti Kapoor , yes among the villains they love Shakti Kapoor he is their evil ultimate.

Amir Khan Sharukh Khan and Saif Ali Khan dont make it on their street list at all...and this might be simply because in their eyes nobody can dislodge Salman Khan..the only NO1.

And yes I must mention Salman Khan has done a lot for kids such as these .

Toh Jiska Khate hain usiki Gun gate hain..Bandras one and only 30 Mar Khan - Salman Khan.

I dedicate this to him and his Be Human generosity, and he does not stand on the shoulders of newspaper barons to be noticed..

And if he stood for elections to revamp the maliase in our fucked political system for better governance I would be the first vote for him..

Marziya Shakir is saying I too..

He is the stellar star in the Galaxy of a poor unwanted child .. child of a lesser god..

The City Of My Birth

my grand father
daoga nabban saab
of kankar kua
pata nala
imliwali gali
a lost moment
one of these
related to
poet mir anees
i was born
on his dehleez
frame freeze
the lord
for his gift
my grand mother
nazmi begum
in prayers
on bent knees
my poets mind
a muhafiz
of old sepia
the city
of my birth
my parentage
my heritage
a decrepit
the bioscope
to some degree
a pucca
in the web
of my ancestry
am i what i am
am i what i am not
manacled chained
to my karmic destiny

Muslim Woman in a Mans World

she begs
while they pray
her words
they wont hear anyway
muslim male dominated society
mullah powered
fatwa generated
fire and brimstone
a woman has no say
born in a cradle
to her grave
she will go by the way
triple talaq
a sword hanging on her head
either way they slay
a mother a sister
a daughter
an aunt
she is a woman
you dont
need to repay
a toy
made of blood sinews
a bit of clay
her world stark
black and white
no shades of gray

dedicated to fred miller the pune essence

Sleeping On An Empty Stomach

what the fuck
bad luck
a fuck luck
you cant duck '
broken dreams
on an empty
a few coins
life in a
groove stuck
of big bucks
a karmic katastrophe
nothing works

dedicated to maha kamel
avec de la patience on arrive a la tout..

The Poem of Life

the red signal
of life stops
fuck the cops
beg run beg
life a miserable
tear drop
the only pearl
you wont find
at a jewelry shop
an aperture
of pain
Fuck F stops

Jesus Watches

Jesus watches from a corner in shame
much did he try to raise womanhood
on a pedestal
the lot of the suffering woman
remains the same
woman in a mans world is game
robbed of her treasury of innocence
a fallen woman she became
they her own children
of her loins wound
brutalize and maim
disown her
adding her to ill fame
remember her as fleeting thought
on womans day as a Mother
all in name
throw her in the dungeons
of an old womans home
when she becomes an old dame
the mound of her memories
ashes to ashes dust to dust
the worms her flesh and her soul
will reclaim
mother wife sister
a beast of burden to proclaim

to eriic parker,

Gmail Killed Him

the post box
old memories
sweet memories
love letters
chain mail
a future
very grim
dead dead dying
killed him
his soul empty
once was
filled to the brim
letters to Kim
from Judy John and Jim
a red letter box
bitter sweet notes
to skim
as in changing times
in a cybernetic world
he did not
learn to swim

Little Blind Boy of Bandra

Two Bare Backs

Go Away Black Boy

The Whites and The Blacks

the haves
the havenots
back to back
on the soul
of a street drama
as sound track
a picture
that could
hve been shot
more effectively
by glenn losack
my guru my mentor
to mother india
one day
will come back
for his lady love
buy some
some Indian
the American Jew
a shia pandit
beyond all
racist attacks
a nikon d 90
for marrziya
he will unpack

Man Child in a Zoo

He is a man child cub in a zoo
endangered specie its true
on the verge of extinction
a thought hackneyed but new
with his back to the world
a world of hate he left behind
a world of sorrow and suffering
he outgrew
now he eats only what
he can chew
his ancestors once upon a time
roamed the wilds
till evolution charged their intellect
they became from apes
men categorized as Christians Muslims and Jews
assorted races Buddhist Sikhs Parsis Jains Hindus
using religion as a weapon
their own kind without impunity
they mercilessly slew
political powerplay
man destroying man
a heady intoxicating brew
a god who created them
they killed on the cross
now by killing
those that did not kill him
pay off their forefathers
unpaid dues
suicide bombers
misplaced martyrdom
proselytizing the human soul
with any available excuse
Justice as a precondition
to Peace and Freedom
The only solution
for a global truce

a comment by paige perris island who deleted her flickr account

shaped by light
or sorrow
the future of this man
child lies within
his charms and
his wiles, his ability
to beguile.
his smile will take him
far and his past
will recede like a vapor trail
from a jet traveling
east to west,
his choice, what is best
for him and the rest
of his cadre.

Another One Bites the Dust

falling in love
with her was
a great mistake
she was as original
as she was fake
my ass with
my clothes on
she did take
love for loves sake
a lot moment
a lost flake
on the soul
of the poetry
of my life
i have deleted her
from my fucked
her memories
our incomplete
pillow talk
our poetic love making
only a keepsake
for another
heavenly endowed man
my love she did forsake
from my bent bough
a taste of love
she did partake
in business parlance
she retired me
with a golden
hand shake
one sided
failed love
biting the dust
eating shit
in simpler words
a fucked

Lost Illusions

Rusty Old Blades for Sale

there was a
racist poet
his name was rusty
old blades
his pedagogic
pedantic poetry
the soul
of poetry degrade
he could only write
poetry when his
alabaster ass
was getting laid
he and the guy
who was fucking him
were caught
in a police raid
by horny hijra bitch
they were betrayed
community service
as punishment
a stiff fine they paid
both had a sex change
the mumbai gay parade
are part of import export
shemale hijra trade
racism on the soul of poetry
calling a blade a spade
love poetry hate racism
returns renovated
makeover newly made

Marziya Unlearning Photography

she was watching
the magic of
a camera lens
her infant soul
to her guru's soul
made more sense
you can choose
but god chooses
your grand parents
your parents
a god father
called uncle glenn
the bravest among
the bravest of men
the street of despair
a shooting den
a single light
of the sun
as reflectors
a poetry of life
human souls cleanse

Imposing Cat On A Burning Floor

"SIR: Poseyal : KNIGHT of the DESPOSYNI Pro User says:

glad we are friends
so how much for you to print me a 11x14 of this and ship it o me with a poem?

he is
basking in the sun
out of door
he has finished
his domestic
imposing cat
on a burning floor
dreaming of
his cousin
in new orleans
across the shore
on wings of fancy
he loves to soar
his poetic heart
on the soul
of friendship
he loves to pour
selling spaces
of the mind
without brochure
pain of living
to endure
prevention is better
there is no cure
anthony posey
good friend
brother poet
you cant ignore
taking him
on a mumbai

30March 2010

Heat and Humidity in Mumbai

heat and humidity
in mumbai
a place where
every cosmic
heart lives
would love to die
wingless birds
they love to fly
the feet of divinity
in the sky
soul curry
bheja fry
for nirvana
in an abyss
the legs
of a woman's
used condoms
are hung
to dry
sucked supply

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