Monday, July 29, 2013
Mama What Happens Once Ramzan Gets Over Will They Forget Us Or Remember Us
Mama What Happens Once Ramzan Gets Over Will They Forget Us Or Remember Us, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr.
after ramzan
charity generosity
piety will rest
one months test
but was the best
people humble
caring modest
for the beggars
every evening
a virtual fest
food to savor
food to digest
hope on the
crest ..forgiveness
mindset ..ramzan
when beggars
were holistically
blessed - ramzan
freedom for the
oppressed ..
but unfortunately
in muslim countries
ramzan is murder
mayhem..minarets
of hope call for
protest muslims
love killing muslims
in ramzan..sectarian
political unrest
hornets nest
Mother Why Did You Give Me Birth ,,,Now You Beg To Keep Me Alive
Mother Why Did You Give Me Birth ,,,Now You Beg To Keep Me Alive, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr.
on the cold pavement
lies a born dreamer
born in the womb
of a beggar ...born
to feel pain ..child beggar
I Am A Loner In A Crowd I Am A Dead Body Within A Shroud
I Am A Loner In A Crowd I Am A Dead Body Within A Shroud, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr.
walking barefeet
felling the earth
its heart beats
sounds ,,the
urban soil to
my clay like
essence bounds
in a cosmic
karmic silence
of pain my
punishment
as i go round
around ..a piece
of garbage on
her mound
burnt brown
a semi wise
man posing
as a clown
The Beggars Of Taragadh
i shot them
as a frame
within a frame
i thought
i would not
need words
but the poetry
of life persists
these beggars
want to be seen
but also be heard
fluttering souls
broken wings
mindless bodies
like birds ,,
I Shoot Beggars - The Beggar Poet
i shoot beggars
to show you
that god exists
he lives in a hovel
among the poor
in humility does
his bit ..he does
not need spiritual
pimps or brokers
presents costly gifts
the god of the poor
is poor himself..
i must admit
he certainly
does not ask his
followers to kill
those who dont
believe in him
this mandate
of hate he does
not permit
suicide bombers
are not part of
his creed once
you submit
no killing of
innocent people
throats to slit
the god of the poor
is not the god of
hoodlums and bandits
so i shoot beggars
to showcase their god
both closely knit
through my pictures
another world is possible
a thought to transmit
call me a dreamer
call me a dimwit
when man kills man
god gets hit ...
The Muslim Beggars Get Their Bonus On Eid
after the namaz
god fulfills all
their needs
working overtime
on eid .. at home
many mouths to
feed ..the mother
in the lead ..alllah
ke nam par de do
is her chant godspeed
the muslim beggars
lowest of the low
poorest of the poor
untouchables of
our creed ..waiting
to be freed ..growing
in slum like marshes
like unwanted weeds
to rehabilitate them
is not part of the
agenda converting
many more to become
muslims is a thought
to concede proselytizing
the poor by the moneyed
is part of the tableek,,
Kashmiri Beggars ..At Mahim Dargah ..
if things were
normal in the
valley of hope
why would
they come
to mumbai
in the slums
live and cope
mercy of
Allah..walking
a tight rope
downward
slope
life is
quizzical
beyond
their scope
Without Beggars Charity Would Cease To Exist
to appease god
through beggars
invoke his blessings
would take a hit
beggars hope
charity and god
interknit ,,one
size fits ..without
beggars trustees
at temples mosques
holy shrines would
get a paralytic fit
hotel guys who give
food fit for rats would
close down would
have to call it quits
cops taking hafta
from beggars system
corrupt culprit
think a world without
beggars .. an era ends
i will write its obit
but what if beggars
were employed by
the government
to fill their coffers
given permits
like bus conductors
cab drivers auto drivers
a happy utopian skit
beggars would be
an integral part of
society no more
misfits ....
beggars who would
accept your credit
cards a satirical
thought to wit
my fecund
fucked mind
as it flickrs flits
on the soul
of my beggar
poetry some
more vomit
Beggars On The Way To Taragadh - Ajmer
This is a steep climb from a narrow path close to Dhai Djinn Ka Jhopda and the beggars you see littered on this path, are unique , mostly infested with open wounds maggots , and they take money or coins in exchange a form of beggar money .. This is a path of pain pain redemption , it is like entering a unknown zone during Ajmer Urus time of Holy Saint Khwajah Garib Nawaz.
If your poetic interest is shooting beggars this is a beggar rat hole, kids , urchins mothers all on this path till you reach the upper levels of Taragadh Fort .. there is a famous Sufi Shrine here and is place of Shia Sufi influence , including an ancestral Imambada too.
As I dont have much time I did no go up this year , nor did I go to Pushkar ,,,
But Taragadh in the mountains is the famous graves of a Hijra Holy Saint and his biological son.. worthy of a visit too.
I Shoot Beggars With My Third Eye
it will close
once i die
life i fear
death i
defy..
i shoot
pain
that i
conceptualize
i shoot truth
roadside reality
devoid of lies
i shoot hell
purgatory
in a world
of deceptive
illusory paradise
the mother weans
withered teat
as the child cries
i shoot what
i visualize
my cosmic fate
your cosmic eyes
Here Prevention Does Not Help The Cure
beggars need
to be rehabilitated
taught skills
made more
secure
but will
that ever
happen
through
the government
or society
or by muslim
community
i am not sure
so the beggar
will remain
beggary wont
disappear
a beggar far
a beggar near
if tomorrow
does not come
is the only fear
ramzan is a
reminder more
tears on the
path less
cheers
you pay
a few coins
he blesses
you with
long years
success
prosperity
all that is
dear...
As A Beggar - Sometimes The Poet In Me Comes To The Fore
As A Beggar - Sometimes The Poet In Me Comes To The Fore, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr.
blood sweat
tears and gore
unsaleable words
i prostitute i whore
bashing my bleeding
head at her closed
doors .. she wants less
i want more as poet
within the fucked soul
of a beggar i underscore
i am as deformed as he is
sitting by his side on the floor
pain buzzing like bee idling
on the core .. i try to get sleep
i can hardly snore .. my destiny
caught up with her on some
distant illusory dreamy shores
a boat caught in a whirlpool
she mockingly holds the oars
Children of a Lesser God
precariously hanging
at traffic signals by
the umbilical cord
born deathly sick
can never be cured
deprived depraved
neglected ignored
bruised and gored
by vested interests
adored and whorled
Ramzanesque
lifes tragedy
seems grotesque
as it flows into
a dream burlesque
pathos poetry of
pain from my desk
more difficult
if you are born
blind members
of a weaker sex
god watches
guards protects
caught in a vortex
I Shoot Urban Despair .. Untouchable Beyond Repair
I Shoot Urban Despair .. Untouchable Beyond Repair, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr.
building
stone edifice
as a new
house of
god rising
lofty in
the air
or grand
madrsas
knowledge
share but
for the poor
the neglected
the homeless
who really cares
each one holding
to his precious
political chair
others ass licking
the political heir
life caught in
surreptitious
snare
insensitive
humanity
everywhere
Amma yeh hamari badkismati ki tasveer kyon le raha hai
Amma yeh hamari badkismati ki tasveer kyon le raha hai, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr.
waqt phir
apni jagah
tehra hai
amma
tumhare
burkhe
mai chipa
ansu bhara
chehra hai
zakhm tumhare
seene main
gehra hai
mera gussa
samjhta nahi
kya yeh
badtameez
photographer
ghoonga
aur behra hai
hamari zindagi
ghamzada iski
zindagi ka
panna sunehra hai
Amma Ham Kab Tak Yoon Bhik Mangte Rahenge
ham apna gham
apni badkismati
kab tak sab ko
kehte rahenge
koie toh hamara
sunnewala
ho.. kis kis ko
wohi ghisi piti
kahani kehte
rahenge
kya marte dam
tak ham is
tara jeete
rahenge ..
allah ke nam
par de do
yeh lafz
ankhon ki
darya se
kab tak
behte
rahenge
Mama When Will Good Times Come
this pain
of living
this eternal
boredom
at the mercy
of a few coins
from muslims
living in a hovel
in the slums
poverty ridden
glum...prevention
is worse than
the symptom
our faith our
chained freedom
Muslim Beggars from Murshidabad W Bengal
leaving behind
their loved ones
they come to
mumbai to beg
from one slum
to another slum
on tired legs
running helter
skelter like
chicken from
broken eggs
Zindagi Kuch Toh Rahem Kha Mujhpar
roshni ki talash main
dhoondta hoon main
tujhe ...aisa na ho
tere intizar main
phir jakar yeh
chirag na bujhe
ek bar zamin
se phir uthale
tu mujhe ,,,
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Shah-e-Mardan Sher-e-Yazdan Quwat-e-Parwardigar Lafata Ila Ali La Saif Ila Zulfiqar , originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1 ....
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Dargah of Hazrat Syed Ali Mira Datar Unava Gujrat , a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr. HAZRAT SYED ALI MIRA DATAR'S G...
