Saturday, April 30, 2011

If Pictures Were Horses Bloggers Would Ride

182,571 items / 1,440,866 views

holistically healing
the pain inside
a pain within
the soul
of a picture
as poetry hides
to the one
who sees it
a pain confides
i was born
the day
my god died
hung on a cross
he survived
i am dead
he is alive
catapulting me
into space
time and tide
loving a
spectral beauty
my humility
her pride
her arrogance
her conceit
her pomposity
her snide
a rollers coaster ride
sometimes up
sometimes down
i wept
i cried
rolls eyes
some joyride
lying a living
on the wayside
deleted a kick
on his backside

Mr Mukesh Parpiani and Me

86,544 items / 523,802 views

Mr Mukesh Parpiani is a living legend per se.. as a kind human being and a creative photographer ..he is the only one to have dared to shoot Mr Chaggan Bhujbal in an encounter with the Mumbai Police.. a mind blowing picture that Mr Bhujbal wont forget..

Mr Mukesh Parpiani is the curator of Piramal Art Gallery..a very kind sensitive soul...

The Shia Blogger of Mumbai

182,571 items / 1,440,871 views

a bleeding pain
a scream less cry
why why why
a fruitless sigh
dreams too die
lord of the flies
in a pigsty
world of pain
a punctured eye
half shut
half open
the silence
as her reply
khuda hafiz

The Beggar Poet Of Mumbai

182,571 items / 1,440,826 views

to believe
or not to believe
in fate bothers
me a lot
walking on embers
of life's torturous
moments barefeet
burning hot
in the prison cell
of my making
i bleed and rot
staking my claim
on a piece of plot
her heart her mind
her soul a passing
thought oozing pain
allover his surrounding
a broken clay pot
a nuisance like a fly
she inconsequentially
swats he deserves
what he got frailty
thy name is woman
life comes a full circle
a journey aborts
left midway by
karmic hope
deleted dreams
on the horizon
come to naught
why why why
she says so what

The Beggar Poet of Mumbai.. Shoots Poems With A Camera

every dog has his day

182,570 items / 1,440,456 views

he was sad too
his female
great Dane
had run away
he looked deeply
into my eyes
so much
he wanted to say
but i refused
his polite gesture
when he said
another one
might come
your way
bad days
will go away
i shall wait
hope positively
till her birthday
for a homecoming
i will pray
every day
the soul of
my despair
i have
but pain
to share
a thought
makes me
makes me
from his ricksha
into my painful
eyes he stared
both of us
by karmic fate
a cosmic
we both

if i die dont shed tears for me

182,569 items / 1,440,440 views

i am flying away from your window sill never to come back ever again hame bhool jaiye

kasam khaiye
uff hame
is tarah na satiye
rahem khaiye
hame bhool jaiye
baz aiye
mujhe apne
hal par chod dein
ap apne ghar jaiye
mere hath ki bani hui
haleem mat khaieye
thake huen hain
ap so jaiye

words she said na dauriye mare hue murde ko na jagaiye jhooti kasme na khaieye kute jaisi doom na hilaeye mohabbat ke jal main na phasieye man jaiye ..meri ruswai pehchan jaiye ..

this dog kissed my hand from a moving ricksha he understood my pain.. and whispered every dog has his day...moved away with a grin and a smirk...making me feel like a stupid jerk...

Khuda Hafiz

182,568 items / 1,440,343 views

Khuda Hafiz (Perso-Arabic:, Urdu: خُدا حافِظ, khudā hāfiz), usually shortened to Khodafez in Persian,[1] is a parting phrase traditionally used by Persian, Kurdish, and South Asian Muslims. The locution is the most common parting phrase among Muslims in India, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Bangladesh, & Iran. [

on the soul
of sorrow
a parting kiss
khuda hafiz
ever single
of her throaty
i will miss
the line
went dead
was amiss
what was hers
was not his
he presumed
love for friendship
just like this
a karmic accident
no peace of mind
stolen bliss
warrior queen
an ethereal
from her court
had me

Frozen Time

182,567 items / 1,440,337 views

I am a beggar poet and a street photographer.. I beg for pictures in the beggar bowl of my camera pictures that become the scintillating soul of my human poetry..

I am a romantic my world of love is dead or yet to be born,
I search for peace hope humanity a golden dawn
a world away from racist hate or scorn I am
as much a Hindu as you are a Muslim
mandir masjid dilon pe banaon
let bygones be bygones

I distance myself from every religion
that on the soul of humanity its hate spawns

Kash 'hum juda na hote Kabi alvida na kahte

182,566 items / 1,440,315 views

dosti barkarar hoti
aur ham jhagda na karte
hasi khushi
miljulkar rehte
ap kehtin
jeeve jeeve pakistan
ham kehte sada
zinda rahe hindustan
phuzul batein na karte
jeet aur har se dur rehte
agar ap ko zara bhi akal
hoti ap hamse khafa na hote
ham dosti ki kabar par na rote
kam se kam ham
acche dost hote
aman ka beej apne
bageeche main bote
pyare lamhe yadein
siskiyan sansien
ham is trah na khote

gar nasib main juda hona tha.. kam se kam dubara milne ki.. khawish toh rakhte
Kash 'hum juda na hote Kabi alvida na kahte

David Hazell in Defense of Firoze Shakir

David Hazell is a white man in a world of prejudiced poetry where the only currency of poetic exchange is hate and unstoppable rant against a colored man and his poetry.

Poets in Poetryland suffer from megalomania, psychotic bitchiness.

Here in Poetryland they dont like David Hazell as he champions our cause, fights for our rights even after the system has kicked us out-

David Hazell is not alone there are other poets too who are upright and just and the list is not very long...But Howlin Dervish is the other name who has always supported me each time I was attacked by rabid dogs and monstrous hogs.

After I left Poetryland , I did delete the few poems that were my weapons of counter attack against rampant racism..
Racism in Poetryland exists behind a white mask of serpentine hate.
I flew the Cuckoos nest.. Luckily...

A poem below by David Hazell


Firoze Shakir, the noblest of men
When will we e’er see HIS like again?
Like Jesus himself HE stands aloof,
Crucified for speaking truth.
Hounded by drunken cockhunter hags,
Parrot faced cows who have had their last shags.
Spat on by racists who poeticise
That they are not racists, but thin, their disguise.
Puerile their poetry, shallow their hearts.
Passionless prattle, penned by wet farts.
Morons menopausal, with droopy old dugs
And foul fascist bastards who trail slime like slugs.
Cowardly gangsters, who spit from the crowd,
Heartless and mindless, they weave the saint’s shroud.
Firoze, is a champion of those oppressed,
By ravening wolves, who in lambskin are dressed.
But death hath not dominion, HE shall return!
And cleanse with HIS love, those who righteousness spurn.
REPENT NOW! Ye demons whose purpose is fell.
Or be cursed in your bile
To spend Christmas

by David Hazell

david hazells poetry blogs

The Race Of Life No Beginning or End

182,565 items / 1,440,297 views

our flesh
will be eaten
away by worms
we who are giants
were once
a drop in a sperm
we finish
our imprisonment
on earth
a life term
we hurt
we hurt
we falter
we err
we squirm
our dreams
our intentions
rigid and firm
our journey
cycling away
from here
to another
not required
on our pompous
arrogant bums
from one plane of life
to another plane after life
we jump we fuck
we fornicate
we hump
two legs
the curse
of humanity
a penile
into the chaotic
of a womb
our load
of rubbish
we dump
destroy nature
through wars
pestilence acid rain
our poison
into the soul
of an unborn child
we pump

tara rum pum tara rum pum

Da Mir Pan Zlatko and The Beggar Poet of Mumbai

182,546 items / 1,440,266 views

I have to pull my shalwar leg up as it causes great pain to the wound on my leg, and it is very uncomfortable hurting pain .

And I have started carrying my antique silver stick to hit anyone who gets on my nerves , I have become irritable annoying and grouchy all her fault.

The heat humidity in Mumbai is as bad as Hell I change my T twice a day, as it is totaly drenched when I come back from work.

These are new pictures I had shot in the last few days that I am uploading at Flickr..

The newspapers have written about Damir and Zlatko.. which is a nice gesture and a sweet memory to take home as a blogger their story will always be on Flickr Facebook and Twitter..blogged by me.

Da Mir Pan Zlatko Will Leave For Turkey In A Few Days

182,547 items / 1,440,267 views

I had not met my Croatians friends since a very long time , though I was told they played at Bandra Bandstand,at Carter Road they have opposition to their collecting money at the promenade by the authorities there .

And these guys are stranded in Mumbai have meager funds , they are living of the Mumbaikars love and charity, these two guys are cycling around the world to spread the message of through Balkan African Music.

For a few days they stayed at St Peter Church Bandra thanks to Fr Jaun , than they moved to Ollie my friend Al The Tattoo Artists brother , but they have to move out from Ollies place as Ollie is getting married on Monday they told me..

They could not take a ship to Iran , so they are collecting money for their airfare to Turkey from Mumbai , at Rs 18000 a ticket , I have spoken to my dear Facebook friend Carlyta to find someone who can help them on humanitarian grounds as a gesture of good will.

I would have helped them financially too,but I am going through bad times myself is down and about..but they never ask me for money instead they thank me every time for helping them in Mumbai and honestly I have done nothing..I gave them a few contacts and those contacts helped them in their time of need.

They are here for a few days more than they leave for Turkey play music supplement their savings and will cycle home to Croatia.

They were in a big hurry searching for cartons to pack their cycles , they had tea with me and left..

And the worry lines on my face is because of my wound incurred walking barefeet on Good Friday, the wound has festered because of diabetic condition , my stress , my fucked emotional problems and sows no sign of healing..I am applying an ointment though , my leg wounds will heal but wounds welts that I got recently will take a very long time to heal...

So such is life on a slow track I had deactivated my Facebook account but on the insistence of a dear friend Mansoor Bhai Showghi Yezdi and Rajiv Soni I came back with my tale between my legs.. to find the person for whom I left has deleted me from her contact list...such is my Apocalypse Now and in the Hereafter.

All Her Sweet Words Are Choking Your Eardrum He Said

182,544 items / 1,440,161 views

your ears
need to be
or you will soon be
on your death bed
love lives in the ear
not in the heart or head
squarely he said
probing my ear
he moved ahead
removing love
notes of lead
as my face
tomato red
from within
i profusely bled
a beggar poet
through the ear
sweet nothings
she had fed
haleem kebabs
zaika great spread
than all of a sudden
her line went dead
silence the cause
of a pain unsaid
all my poems
torn to shreds
warrior queen goddess
her wings spread
has flown the world
of a beggar poet
on his sick bed
warrior queen goddess
pompous conceited arrogant
big head high bred well read
wants war fire brimstone
bloodshed from a poet dickhead

The Poet And The Smelly Cat

182,544 items / 1,440,161 views

both seeking hope
friendship harmony
met by accident
a cricket match
two countries
a national
on gmail chat
than came the
blow the ugly spat
punches blows
to the ego
tit for tat
doomed deleted
on her doormat
divine beauty
divine form
of a sweet smelly
poets pet cat
pain poetry
passion pathos
on his face
he fell flat
green with envy
one hell cat
gloomy faced
on her window sill
as she sat

no chitchat

Thank You

Thank You, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

182,544 items / 1,440,157 views

for hurting me the most

you are a pathan you can boast

on friendship you can raise a toast

you were a great guest cum host

zinda dili pashtunwali

wah mere dost

banaya haleem

aur dala shayr ka gosht


Heartbreak, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

182,544 items / 1,440,157 views

was she real
was she fake
she who keeps
me all awake
she for whom
my heart aches
a thirst i could
not slake
she who loves
all shades
of blue
coffee water
her intake
she who left me
a handshake
leaving behind
of unwashed
as keepsake


182,544 items / 1,440,060 views

Will think of you as my soul burns as my heart burns yearns for you

tum kya jano pagalapan aur pyar kya hota hai

paglon jaise payr tum kar bhi nahi paogi

mom ho jal jaogi

pigal jaogi

Reliving A Past In A Crystal Bowl

182,543 items / 1,440,049 views

ek promise do
janb tumhari shadi ho jaye bacche..kache
muje bhulna mat dost
tum ko mere sar ki kasam
sir. meri koi shadi nai ho raha .jab ho ga tab dekho gi
n i dont forget my friends
me: i am a special friend

a sad story came to an end ..end of friendship end of friend

one day we will part you with your heart me with my broken heart

182,543 items / 1,440,013 views

bus bus bus
me: 3 words that make me cry

dont cry

into your soul i want to pry
in your arms i want to die
S: Uff
me: you are my earth you are my sky
ek nasha that makes me high

me: i was about to wrirte rolls eyes

you deleted me why why why

S ap chup karen so jaen

ud gayi chidiya khub pachtayen...ankhen bandh karen toh unkii baten yadein ban jaen
ab jaen toh kahan jaen...tarasta hoon pareshan hoon .unki ek jhalak aur nighaen...

I Shoot Pictures Upside Down

182,543 items / 1,439,979 views

my fucked
cosmic head
the ground
my inner being
from a picture
a poem unwound s
revolving attacking
motion muted sounds
i searched but
on my page her
name could
not be found
duly deleted
burnished ass
burnt earthly
urban brown
a poet clown

United Colors of Poetry

182,543 items / 1,439,961 views

a love
one sided
collective loss
a rebel
a cause
a sartorial
a poetic pause
she was
she was cross
queen goddess
big boss
on a horse
kinetic chaos
karmic floss
what comes
divine beauty
pretentious gloss
a rolling stone
gathers no moss
two different
two different
but a single
of poetry

My Cosmic Wheel of Love Has Broken Down

182,543 items / 1,439,936 views

my poetic posterior
burnt urban brown
sartorial serendipity
of a poet clown
a word tin smith
swathed in pain
on the Venus of her
Mound a warrior
goddess queen
my fate had crowned
i am here but
she has left
the hunting
she is not around
her kingdom
out of bounds
silence in
muted sounds
memories her words
my souls serenity
ponds like a rumi
dervesh i go
round and round
doing the dance
of death funereal
music plays
in the background
poetic and profound
corrugated shutters
she has downed
on my doomed fate
like a silver bullet
ricochets on the
rebound hitting
me hard to
in a dead poets
at facebook

finally hopelessly home bound

This Picture Was Shot By Late Prof BW Jatkar My Guru

The End

The End, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

182,543 items / 1,439,886 views

You were The one WHO Said good bye n that u dont wanna stay my friend :-/

some stories
were never
to have
happy endings
over streams brooks
they wend
just jarring notes
a message
in stillness
they send
the unknown zone
a beggar poet
walks home
empty handed
back bent
the weekend
an olive leaf
once again
he extends
has to
will happen
she is busy
to attend
she is blind
she is deaf
she pretends

I Am Sorry

I Am Sorry, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

182,543 items / 1,439,878 views

I dont have a lots of friends ...only few n they are life time friends n you are one of them now :)

to your verdict
your decision
to delete me
i bow
you have to do
what you have to do
it is your prerogative now
somehow i cant get over you
haunted by your eyes
your curved eyebrows
my zenitude my tao
in my dreams a smelly cat
wont say miaow
down came the tree of
my hope along with the
laden bough
i want stop
writing poems
to your divine form
you divine beauty
as a beggar poet
i take a vow
the field of my sorrow
my despair with the cross
on my shoulder
i plough
one day
on some other
planet you
might take pity
into your garden
this beggar poet
allow a warrior queen
goddess who wont
ever be a hausfrau
pompous conceited
arrogant highbrow