Monday, August 2, 2010

Your Upbringing Your Heritage Maketh a Man

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clothes
maketh a man
i believe
but man
with his virtue
...with his character
upbringing
rises above clothes
i perceive
jabby jamani
from dubai
in love
on leave
ash hussain
a lucky woman
all his love
receive
together both
a love story
of their
new lives
weave
your elders
blessings
is the wealth
in brief
its because
of their
sacrifice
their hardships
their pain
their blood
sweat tears
you achieve
what you
achieve
parentage
is the ace
up your sleeve

my eyes were moist after I wrote this..a tear drop through a fathers love for his daughter as a poem I conceived

The Silhouette of Sartorial Spirituality

a fabric
of peace
superb
quality
the quintessential hijab
the soul the silhouette
of sartorial spirituality
of muslim womens
collective equality

Bhutas In The Rains

garam
garam
pani kam
chai
bhuta
in the rains
naram
naram
women
dripping wet
at chinchpokli lane
the flyiing
umbrellas
the flying skirts
growing up pains
sandra from bandra
mary jane
watching
the fun uncle joe
ogling
though
the window pane
aunty
inside
is watching
an old flick
of michael caine
growling at
mouse clicking
but not pen
pushing poet
neighbor Alfie's
great Dane
uncle saby
has eloped
with his Russian
girlfriend
to Ukraine
fr jauan
from st peter church
marathi speaking
mumbaikar jesuit priest
from good old Spain
darryl loyola sharyar atai
asif baig his musicians
bheja frying
our brains

This Cant Be The Fate of a Girl Child

born in captivity
the girl childs
wings they clip
do this
do that
her soul
they flip
before
she learns
to walk
she learns
to trip
slave
to society
her soul
they whip
god save
the girl child
from her
own fate
a prayer
on my
silent lips
my own
grand daughter
2 year old
marziya
her story scripts
pictures poetry
totally eclipse
on her fate
she has
firm grip


to my friend sukhi hontu.. still a girl child om

Jan Se Pyara Hai Hijab Hame

Is Main Bittaye Huen
Hain Zindagi
ke sare lamhe
yad ata hai
suhana safar
woh khushiyan
woh khyashein
woh sukh dukh
sara samay

dil chahta hai
phir ek bar
waqt thame



kulsoom and lubna

The Silhouette Of A Hijab Muslim Womans Pride

this she reveals
the rest she hides
her parental
heritage
besides
on the crest of her
womanhood
the hijab rides
beauty
dignity
grace
inside
outside
in the soul
of the hijab
faith
of a muslim
woman resides
to wear it
or not to wear it
who are you
to decide
white western
satrap
the muslim
woman
replied

Life is Rat Poison

you die each morning
before the day begins
man a product of
his ancestral sins
infecting with his poison
his kith and kin
through death
a battle we
sometimes win
before they dump
our corpse
in a garbage bin
living on the edge
through thick and thin

The Silhouette of the Hijab is the Poetry of Life

a garment of modesty
enhancing
the soul of the mother
sister daughter wife
the hijab
keeps muslim
womanhood alive

The Silhouette of the Hijab is the Poetry of Life

a garment of modesty
enhancing
the soul of the mother
sister daughter wife
the hijab
keeps muslim
womanhood alive

This Is For Randy Der Joel


to tell him
i have finally
recovered
from the deadly
viral of a bloggers flu
i am hale hearty and well
only my pictures my blogs
my poems in my lifetime
will not selll but once
i am dead and gone
my next of kin might make
some money they tell
my hijra pictures
my hijra poetry
the only two
domes of delusion
where all my
readers dwell
from up above
in my hellish cell
fondly generously
i will remember
fred anthony posey
benn bell
my dear brother glenn
my best facebook friends
who always wished me well
gnaulz off romeo davide michel
roland w luthi bernie
i bid them all farewell
those whom i had blocked
at flickr facebook
will say fuck
let him burn in hell
a positive spam
he deserves it
all very well
waking up
from my reverie
a phone call
broke my magic spell
a blog is an ocean within
the soul of a sea shell

When I am Dead And Gone

when they carry
me home
to the crematorium
my poems my blogs
in memoriam
morning to night
hitting the keys
ad nauseum
to the leaping fires
i will succumb
i did not want
to be eaten
by worms
maggots
people trampling
my poets grave
to the crematorium
for my last rites
i did come
a dead poets hell
is better for me
than a heavenly
kingdom
a blog goddess
my eternal muse
i will live
under her thumb
time to me
rhyme to rhyme
my libidinous
poetic angst
i will plumb
her slave
her knave
forever
i shall
become
in the fragrance
of her
cherry plum

Dead Meat Poet Thats Me

chopped
sliced
minced
poetry
the only form
of expression
that comes
freely to me
through fluttering
wings
of words
i set these
pigeons free
perched
on an internet
cable wire
bird like words
what i shoot
is what you see
from flickr
to facebook
to twitter
twittering
to be or
not to be
molded
as a poem
on a potters
wheel
a pitcher
for the
thirsty

Lalbaugh Chya Raja Mukut Darshan 2019

I am perhaps the only Muslim shooting Lalbaugh Chya Raja for over 20 years or more ,,thanks to Mr Sudhir Salvi head honcho of the Mandal.....