Tuesday, March 27, 2012

A Wily Parrot Reads My Fate

from a bunch
of cards
my fucked fate
he read
i would be
broke all
my life he said
i had misfortune
marked on
my forehead
a transvestite
from lahore
with 10 heel
stiletto heels
would share
my defeated bed
would continue
giving me head
but than he halted
my face went red
very soon to a
blog goddess
i would be wed
i told him
i was already
married
to a woman high bred
he said marriages '
are made in hell
dont be misled
divorce is made
in heaven
so softly tread
man needs more
than a single
homestead
continuing
his drone
my fucked future
he led
at cafe Leopold
you will soon meet
your two best friends
glenn and fred
one of them
will gift you
a nikon d300 camera
the other will gift you
'a new moped
but for your
shia pictures
on the internet
you will be
cursed for life
by wahhabi
ragheads
i cried out
when the wily parrot
bit my finger instead
of my dickhead
blogging the soul
of a poem
from my sickbed

What Will The Press Photographer Not Do To Get His First Page One Picture of a Self Immolating Person

Photojournalism in India Rest In Peace .

.Its all about
Money and Fame
the name of the Game
fires of guilt he could
not douse or tame
Fuck what a Shame
khat khat images
continuous mode
as he took aim
gave the soul of
photography
a very bad name
daily news and analysis
his fortunes reclaimed

Drunken Mother and Child

Drunken Mother and Child

Firoze Shakir Street Photography

Fucked Mothers DayTo Pee or Not To PeeBuzznet Refugee The Scourge Is BackSULAIMAN USMANPlease Dont Tag Me In Your Mail at Facebook..Beggar Hijdas Voiceless Cry
A Street Scene at MoharamStreet Photography MoharamStreet Photography MoharamI want to go to Hindustan.. Imam HussainMisused Muslim WomenWoman a Beast of Burden
Man a Pretenderindian muslim womanThis is Uttar PradeshThe Beggar Bawa Of Bhendi BazarFat Lady of Bandra  Hill RoadCry Beloved Khada Parsi
Muslim Woman's Tryst With DestinyMuslim Woman Triple TalaqBroken Rhyme Broken FlightMan Lives Not By Bread AloneThe World Of The Garbage ManIt Is Difficult To Know What To Say

Jab Tak Khuda Ka Mulk Hai Malik Hussain Hai

Naqaash naqsh, Kaatib o Khat, Baani o Bina, Bood o Nabood, Zaat o Sifat, Hasti o Fana, Aadam Malak, Zameen Falak, Gard e Kimiya, Duniya o Deen, Hadoos o Qidam, Banda e khuda, Sab, Shahid e Kamal e Shahe Mashraqain hain, jab Tak Khuda Ka Mulk hai, Malik Hussain hain - Dabeer

I could not resist copying these lines from the update of Facebook friend Hassan S Shirazi..


hussain is humanity
in a world gone insane
a voice of sanity
symbolizing faith
trust in god
humility charity
fighting against
oppression
spiritual terrorism
within the soul
of tragedy

karbala
jhuk na saki
hussain ka nam
mit na saka
sar de ke
khuda ki bayt
jo rakhi

Back Off

sometimes
i shoot
sounds
of silence
i take a
different route
man is a musician
born with a flute
a testicular tragedy
robs and loots
a woman's perfumed
garden all her fruits
a well laden bough
branches and roots
a cosmic convulsion
poetic pursuit
karmic calisthenics
time will refute
man woman
eternal dispute
emotionalizing
a moment
silently mute

Even Children Would Love To Hurl Shoes At Politicians

the children of
this great nation
cant take it anymore
the children are angry
disgusted and sore
as peace bites the dust
hits the floor every time
there is a scam it gets
worse more and more
the nation decimated
divided treated like a whore
raking black money at
the expense of the
people the only score
laid back attitude
as non state actors
enter stealthily
from the seashores
security asleep
daydreams and snores
hospitality to terrorists
with open doors
dead bodies
dead memories
26/11 we ignore
making martyrs
of brave men
as the politicians
safe and sound
sleep indoors
pass the buck
on the soul
of humanity
blood and gore
god give us
good leaders '
the kids implore
as they too
hurl shoes
at a system
poisonously
politicized
we all deplore

One Year Old

what lies beyond
she knows
as she
beautifully grows
a street photographer
walking the walk
like firoze
with a nikon
D 80 camera
images flow
now three
although
marziya shakir
a tear drop
of hope
that on the cosmic
consciousness
of this street poet
froze poetry
within the silhouette
of prose a wounded
world enumerated woes
where man with another
man comes to blows
those who talk of love
with hate emotions show
running faster than time
yet too slow on a
tight rope to and fro

Ali imam-e-manasto manam ghulaam-e-Ali hazaar jaan-e-giraami fidaa-e-naam-e-Ali

bagair hubb-e-Ali muddaa nahin milta
ibadaton ka bhi hargiz sila nahin milta
Khuda ke bandon suno ghaur se Khuda ki qasam
jise Ali nahin milte use Khuda nahin milta



embedded
in the soul of
a shia child
is her shia heritage
eid e akbar
eid e ghadeer
on her souls
web page
man kunto maulah
reverberates at every age
from the cradle to the tomb
at every stage



Ali imam-e-manasto manam ghulaam-e-Ali
hazaar jaan-e-giraami fidaa-e-naam-e-Ali


kabhi deewar hilti hai kabhi dar kaamp jaata hai
Ali ka naam sun kar ab bhi Khaibar kaamp jaata hai

Behind The Greatness of a Child Lies The Soul of a Mother ..
.marziya shakir

Jab Churi Gardan Par Chalti Hai

zindagi
bhuli bisri
yadein ugalti hai
jab churi
gardan par chalti hai
khoon ki nadi
kaleje se behti hai
bahut kuch kehne
chahti hai
kuch kehna pati hai
siskiyan rukti hui sansen
ubul ubul kar 'gutter
main dhoob jatin hai
kaleja muh ko ata hai
zindagi ub jati hai

Posted at YouTube Community Tab House of Trolls

I dont share my number at all . I dont wish to socialize with people I dont know Thank you for your comments ,, Blessings I am 68 yea...