Friday, July 11, 2014

The Fragrance Of Ganesha Is In The Air

sculptors chiseling his form figure
his beauty bare ..a fragrance rare
soon he will be carried to homes
pandals everywhere ..promises
he fulfills he shows he cares
ganesh bhakts who await his
homecoming in his lions lair
fluid emotions favored flair
the lord of auspicious emotions
enlightenment nostalgia he
comes he shares ..monsoonal
glory bringing showers of hope
getting rid of remorse despair

Om Gan Ganapatye Namah
call him out he is there ,,,

Dearest One - A Message From Aisha Gaddafi

Dearest One,

How are you today? I am Aisha Muammar Gaddafi, the only daughters of
the embattled president of Libya,  Muammar Gaddafi.  I am currently
residing in Burkina Faso unfortunately as a refugee.  I am writing
this mail with tears and sorrow from my heart asking for your urgent
help. I have passed through pains and sorrowful moment since the death
of my father. At the meantime, my family is the target of Western
nations lead by Nato who wants to destroy my father at all costs. Our
investments and bank accounts in several countries are their targets
to freeze.

My Father of blessed memory deposited the sum of $7.5M (Seven  Million
Five Hundred Thousand Dollars) in (UBA) BANK Bukina Faso and he used
my name as the next of kin. I have been commissioned by the (UBA) bank
to present an interested foreign investor/partner who can stand as my
trustee and receive the fund in his/her account for a possible
investment in his country due to my refugee status here in Burkina

I am in search of an honest and reliable person who will help me and
stand as my trustee so that I will present him to the Bank for the
transfer of the fund to his bank account overseas. I have chosen to
contact you after my prayers and I believe that you will not betray my
trust. But rather take me as your own sister or daughter. If this
transaction interest you, you don't have to disclose it to any body
because of what is going on with my entire family, if the united
nation happens to know this account, they will freeze it as they have
frozen others, so please keep this transaction only to yourself until
we finalize it.

Please reply me directly to my private E-mail ( )
for a confidential discussions may be like that we can become best
friends in future sorry for my pictures i will enclose it in my next
mail and more about me when i hear from you okay.

Yours Sincerely
Best Regard,
Miss. Aisha Gaddafi
I await your prompt response immediately

Ramzan Mubarak
Dear Miss Aisha Gaddafi
This Muslim world within
a world and havoc
 Saddam and your
dear father Gaddafi
 great towering
personalities were
pursued perilously
by sheer bad luck ,
I am sorry sad hurt
that because of all this
chaos misplaced justice
your future is stuck
I am sure with your
nobleness your generous
 gesture together we will
 work but before that lets
Curse Caliph Of ISIL
The New Butcher in
the bloodied boots
of Ataturk,,..killing
Shias Sufis Sunnis
with a hateful smirk
Sometimes I wonder
ponderously why Muslims
Love killing Muslims
is it power lust greed
big bucks ..on the
other hand taking
advantage our sectarian
stupidity our jehaddi
propaganda blown
out of proportion by a
handful terrorists
the innocent get fucked
Israel drops bombs
the world including
The UNO watches
like helpless Eunuchs
Than I think what is
the use of your ill gained
money dear Aisha ,,
I feel like a Jerk
So I politely refuse
your kind offer
this beggar poet
This dry bombil
of a Bombay Duck
who wont  shoot
the rains at Worli
The Metro
The Monorail
preferring to shoots
Muslim beggars stuck
in Bandra in an
eternal muck
No Minara Masjid
No Bohri Mohalla
With Muslims
Dying Everything

I have one daughter
three sisters already
for extra kin relationship
i have no stomach

i am broke without
a penny when it
rained on my
life thunder struck
made in india
not for export
says the tattoo
on my buttock

i am an accidental photographer

the camera was
never the crux
of my angst
it was mistakenly
to me by
my fastidious fate
a cosmic thought
that boomeranged
an image precariously
held to the soul of
my poetry overhangs
trying to slither out
from poisonous fangs

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