Thursday, March 15, 2012

true love needs no words

god gave us a tongue
that burnt us on
the stake of silence
ahinsa the true path
we call non violence

inspired by christine

Mother and Child

shot by dr glenn losack

born beguiled
spirit could not
be tamed
running wild

The Lepers Tale

photo shot by dr glenn losack md

when did it happen
how did it happen
he does not know
the flesh
began to fall apart
bleeding sore
he was drunk
dead drunk
he slept
with a leper whore
life slipped
out of his hands
peace no more
throw stones at him
as he begs
from door to door
pain painlessly
growing at the core
god alone knows
what more is in store
doomed destiny
man marooned
on mankinds shore

This is for Glenn Barton and Felice
and the wonder mum
Doris Losack
7th May 2008

Vote For Ashish Shelar - Hum Tumhare Sat Hain

Vote for Ashish Shelar hum tumhare sat hain, these were the words that resounded from all sides as Advocate Ashish Shelar BJP/ShiveSena began his rally at Bandra Reclamation..from here it went through the Muslim pockets of JJ Colony and than Nargis Dutt Nagar and finally moved house to house at the Transit Camp..Marziya accompanied me , and kept shouting Vote for Marziya hum tumhare sat hain the last lines she had quickly memorized from the crowds..

I did not follow the rally into the Transit camp..but came back to drop Marziya...

Ashish Shelar is very fond of Marziya ..who is a friend of his son Omkar and plays with Omkar's pet Labrador Lucky..

I Climb Haji Malang Mountains Barefeet To Shoot The Hijra Ethos

The Poet and his Muse

226,913 items / 1,887,367 views

laxmi narayan tripathi
hijda goddess
this poets muse
love means
always saying sorry
no excuse
what the deuce
she is painting
new yourk red
breaking news
monochromatic melody
in all its hues
rabidly arousing sensuality
rare reviews
tantric sex
a heart into the soul
of the hijda
a new fragrance of frivolity infuse
he who has no teeth
with the cavernous mouth
a forbidden fruit he chews
whiplashes wounds
that heal but dont bruise
a neck begging forgiveness
no mercy from the noose

The Beggar Poet .. And a Fashion Whore Locked Outside Her Trembling Door


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

seems he wears his love
on his arms
love is silver
love is gold
love in bone
love is uknown
love is the only reward...... all else is flesh and bone

i was fucked
much before
i could
fuck my luck
in her back yard
love is
for sympathy
a visiting card
not even your testes
from the vagaries
of fucked love
can you safeguard
falling in love
failing in love
all the way to the
she deleted
me from her
it hit me hard
she loves
an unpoetic guy
physical Adonis
mental retard
this was a
textless post
took me off guard
barefeet bard
hardcore shia
she once
called me
a frickin
shia thug
my soul
she scarred
my multi colored
arrogant hot
spicy india ass
she charred
blow cold
blow hard
for my street
my pedestrian pathos
she had no regard
using third party
my fucked fate
she loved
to bombard
from the karmic
of her white
supremacist circle
i was disbarred
she had taken a liking
for my best friend Bernard
a shadow boxer
who designs graphic
post cards
in a poets cemetery
on an unmarked grave
reads a sign
love is loves reward
here lies a fucked
cosmic poet
buzznet discard
his family jewels
on display and sale
in a junkyard

I have updated this post today 25 March 2010

The Naga Sadhu And The Dam Madar Malang From Mumbai

Man Lives All His Life Behind a Smoke Screen..Seen Unseen

Little Masseur Boys

These ar little kids who are from distant states far away from home , runaways, they come to Mumbai during Urus time , older guys like their soft massaging hands.Most of these guys give full body massage to the doped out horny guys on the Mahim beach..

The Greatest Curse on the Soul of Silence The Tongue ..

Stop Crying Over Spilt Milk ..Anonymous Asshole

Sometimes it’s wiser to be an asshole
By and by it will sink in
To reach your destination
much before you begin
A journey of a torturous spin
Some you lose some you win
Three line poems unwashed repressive
In a recycle bin..
The rest hanging to dry on an
Imaginary foreskin
Cybernetic love on a swivel pin
stop crying over spilt milk
a dead indian in a sheeps skin
seminal solitude hererin
Lighting a path
Darkness within
Man born to Fuck women
Yogic Kundalini
Uncoiling the serpent
That you call the original sin
Playing it by ear..
Tender notes on an old violin
To her bruised ego and chagrin
Hit hard on the rebound
You take it bravely on the chin

The Requiem of Pain

“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.”

Mother Theresa

“Love means exposing yourself to the pain of being hurt, deeply hurt by someone you trust.”

“I understand with love comes pain, but why did I have to love so much?”

“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”

Lance Armstrong

So many memories
on the battlefield
of her young life
Poetic nostalgia
Killed maimed and slain
At her feet paying tribute
To this young Queen of Pain
Brainless hearts
Heartless brains
All seeking her patronage
She freedom seeking
In a cybernetic gilded cage
Nappy wearing Cupid
Arrow headed also her page
The fool the wise also the sage
Her wisdom seek and engage
Poem hunter poems
Poets seeking center stage
But pain of not falling in love
Only the loveless can assuage
Borrowed internet time
Brooding over a
cerebral cleavage
bye bye ass hole she says
causing a poetic
bloodless hemorrhage

Peace A Prostitute a Whore

a prostitute
a whore
sleeps with warlords
political pimps
religious renegades
terrorist tyrants
peace legs spread
opening her doors
spreading animosity
much more evil in store
peace a whimper a lions roar
peace a serpent seed
a wanton seed a venereal sore
peace incestuosly sleeps with war
brother and sister yes
family no more
peace a global street walker
waiting for a next trick to score

Have Soul Will Travel-Appu

no hands
no legs
flies sting and go
mosquitoes bite him so
ants bother him more
goats push him
wieght throw
trouble him hardcore
someone to wipe his ass
someone to help him piddle
someone to bathe him
someone to comb his hair
he would live love and die for
no life is not what it was before
a tragedy that limbless in akimbo
took away his crabs pincers
that he cant cry out for
a manhood as decor
he makes love to the floor
he cannot unbolt the door
no not yet he has not
slept with a whore
have soul will travel
no feet no shoes no shoe store
he has no one but his god
and himself to speak for
he begs with dignity
at chor bazar
at st micheals church
a fate he holds still for
enough is enough he tells me
this worldly life no not anymore .