Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Woman Power Is Poetry and Prose

in silence
like a rapid river
words flow
on the consciousness
of humanity
lovingly it grows
as we know
they make us what
we are
as mothers
grand daughters
woman power
we know
all they are
as blessings on us
they bestow
from a little child
two and a
half years old
daughter of my son
i learnt
the meaning of
living all over again
this new happiness
to her i owe
through the soul
of a camera
as poems
pictures i show

The Muslim Child Crossing A Bridge Too Far

135,918 items / 1,048,039 views

the child
is the image of god by far
caste color tragedy no bar
all the thoughts of hate
are far away from her innocent
mind we debase it with scars
instilling our bias
our shortcomings
on par the child's
body and soul
we char
the child
any child
is a bud
a flower
she wants peace
to bloom
in her garden
instead of hate filled
man made wars
the muslim child
beyond sectarian strife
her life we should not mar
the child carries our parentage
the heritage of what are
parents were what
their parents were
what we are are
these twinkling
little stars
let them be
the future
of humanity
as they are

Muslim Child On A Karmic Wheel

135,870 items / 1,047,886 views

karma dharma
duties of life fate
time watches
could not steal
we are what we feel
the message of
life to live let others live
broken down lives
we must heal
this should
be on the soul
of humanity
we must not
a muslim girl
in a modern
world going
round and round
a wheel
her innocence
she reveals
through a smile
which has
now become
this poets ideal
molten lava
of human emotions
breaking through
walls of iron and steel

Shot By Marziya Shakir Nikon D 80

We were going to the park I handed over my camera Nikon D 80 to Marziya she took two shots to the surprise of people on the road I have to assist her to some degree but the picture taking is all hers , she shoots what she is shown she is the cameras human viewfinder.

But she knows exactly what makes a street picture and she is just two and a half year old.

She is advertising a brand that her grand father has used since he became a street photographer.

This was the second shot she took without shyness or crowd consciousness and she shoots clinically , the camera or its weight does not intimidate her , the guy in the picture took her shot on his mobile phone.

This is life on the streets that I have exposed Marziya as a toddler , and this is despair at the other end of the camera , the camera makes you see things minutely not that Marziya can see all this in the viewfinder yet , the viewfinder is in the head and it is the keyhole that makes you see light even at the end of a winding tunnel of groaning moaning pain.

I dont overdo Marziyas shooting skills on the street only where I think it is photogenic and has a message I hand over the camera.

But sometimes she wont take it as she has her whims and quirks Marziya is a impulsive photographer like me.

Shooting her shooting these kids was a Nikon moment I lost for all time.

Shot By Marziya Shakir Nikon D 80

We were going to the park I handed over my camera Nikon D 80 to Marziya she took two shots to the surprise of people on the road I have to assist her to some degree but the picture taking is all hers , she shoots what she is shown she is the cameras human viewfinder.

But she knows exactly what makes a street picture and she is just two and a half year old.

She is advertising a brand that her grand father has used since he became a street photographer.

She Rains On Me

135,854 items / 1,047,817 views

Since last two days Marziya hangs around with me outdoors she is a congenial photo sensitive camera friendly child I try not to get trigger happy shooting her but I must confess I cant say the same thing when I am with her in the park , I have to shoot every frame simply because I used to bring her as tot now she has made me age under her eyes , her confidence her glow as most of the time kids are cooped up indoors due to the rains and water bound diseases that prey on kids.

I took Marziya to the park twice but yesterday was the happiest day as she made friends with an older girl and she came out into her own.

This will be next uploads at Flickr..

There are pictures Marziya shot too in this lot with my camera Nikon D 80 around her neck.

Reading books maybe a great healthy pastime watching films or watching television , I dont partake of any of the three my TV set is dead since years and I like to see it shut with no idiotic grin on its face.

The person who repairs my TV the only guy who can is in bed since a much longer time than my TV.

I dont read books as I used to before the internet wires got lodged up my you know what..

I have not gone to see a film for a longer time too.

Marziya is my book my TV and a feature film that never ends she teaches me what life had not taught me till date.

And I wont bore you with those thoughts but yes grand parenting is a second chance if you have been an alcoholic or a neglectful father like I was .

So this is Marziya as she come like a monsoonal torrential shower on the dryness of a poets parched soul.

Why poets write prose like poetry I dont understand but if you shoot poetry as photographs I think you send the message across much faster than the speed of sound.

Who Am I ?

Who Am I ?, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

135,853 items / 1,047,800 views

just a speck
of dust
in a poets eye
my heaven
my hell
the karmic
of poetry
a tear
a sigh
of life
hung to dry
with words
as a poem
comes by
from my shanty
into your mansion
i fly
you add me
as a friend
on facebook
i say thank you
till one fine day
the time comes
to tell you
good bye
i am a dreamer
my dreams
wont die
as images
through my
camera eye
on the emulsion
of your soul
what am i

inspired by LR

The Hunter And The Prey

135,852 items / 1,047,786 views

no she is not
she is not ill
she is hiding
from man
the predator
her greatest enemy
who can kill her
before god will
she hides from
him silently still
through her
ancestral fear
her painful pangs
on my
she spills
a karmic circle
of evolving
the imagery
of a poem
time stood still
man woman
a story
of a mountain
two sides of an
uneven scale
of the travesty
of life
one happy
the other
he skinned her
as a trophy
it was her soul
he killed
her voice
now gone silent
she is over the hill
to be
what you want
to be
you need
some skill
a bitter sweet pill
this was neither
a picture
nor a poem
just the minds
a thought

An Ode To A Girl Child

135,851 items / 1,047,761 views

If you have lived in India like I have if you have seen the graph of a girl child like we all have you will understand the inherent pain of womanhood where she stands now in front of locked doors with a punishing school bag a metaphor for the blows she will face when she take a few more steps forward.

Her story is unique strange and painful, at every step of her onward march of life , her story is not a hit television series , her life is stalked by fear unknown fear, and those died at Kurla Nehru Nagar will not be able to tell you what they saw what they felt the beginning and the end , heinously choked out by the lust of Man. I refer to the recent serial rapes in that area against the little girls and their gruesome murders.

Society is like Pontius Pilate it washes its hands after every horrendous episode till the episodic memory becomes a statistic of death a closed Police file.

This is my Introduction to the girl child and mind you I have two a daughter a grand daughter and two I got as default as a father in law.

i wondered
what it was
that held her
was she
a role
on a street
of life
tongue tied
the bag
her but
she held
a karmic
of her heritage
her vision
the horizon
glass eyed
her hands
forever tied
as she continues
her journey
arduous ride
if she is lucky
if things go well
she will be
a blooming bride
but if the lines
of fate
on her palm
are little
than will come
another halt
beatings taunts
dowry demand
husband watching
helplessly as
they kill
her womanly
pride an indian
woman her
her nasib
she must abide
going back
to her mothers house
is next to impossible
against a cultural norm
she cant decide
than one day
lit up for
one last time
for the sins of
her misfortune
she was unduly tried
the system bon
through the entrails
of greed evil
she was finally

such were my
i captured
a girl child
locked doors
the balance sheet
of life
the girl child
is placed
in India
on the debit side
a child making
but after marriage
if she gives birth
to another
girl child
throttling the neck
is called
female infanticide

Pain Is Always Green On The Other Side of The Fence

135,842 items / 1,047,502 views

to catch it
shoot it
capture it
i really need
a micro
prime lens
makes no sense
a click of a mouse
who needs a pen
a poem hidden
in every sentence
this poem
to my facebook friends
through their pain
my own pain i cleanse
poetry photography
is a combo
of a sixth sense
in a world of
barbed barriers
a blog is a message
of peace to mend
a broken fence

A Poet For Hire

135,841 items / 1,047,479 views

poems like
two minute
maggi instant
noodle passport
he has only
work visa
he requires
a poet on hire
not a day by night
flier opinionated
uncouth but for
heavens sake
not a liar
live wire
shelf life
wont expire
in exotic
one of a
kind attire
a poem
poems on
the wings
of images
of street life
of pain
pain a
barbed wire
a world
of haunting
no desire
men who
loom large
under fire
to become
they aspire
with silicon
made of
rubber tyre
a pedestrian poet
gone from
bad to verse
you may
or may
not admire
his god
richard pryor
is willing
if you have a
suitable job
for the post
of a poet
he wishes
to inquire

for his
fred miller
ben bell
bernie aguire
anthony posey
randy der joel
poet laureate
poet friar

The Silhouette Of A Hijab

135,761 items / 1,045,743 views

muslim womanhood
has its essence
in piety humanity
within the hijab
its contribution
without pretense
hence my poem
in its defense
she wears it
as her garment
of modesty
her sartorial
why do you
get tense
you or your woman
are not entitled
to wear it
why take offense
makes no sense
the silhouette of the hijab
a poem through my lens
to the white supremacist
racists a thought
i condense
at no expense