I am a street illusionist

with the help of my camera
i give my stories a twist
i am not a street photographer
i am sure you get the gist
i am a street poet,..who is
prone to calisthenic fits
unlike my contemporaries
i am a simple man playing
out a skit ..happy to be called
a city bumpkin dimwit
i was once a follower of a
Sufi order I  renounced
myself from all such lists
I play tennis forehand
 backhand smash volley
I can hit ,,,I pretend to be
an egg in a snake pit
I cut my head with two
Daggers on the enemies
of Hussain I curse n spit

I am a humanitarian..
a candle in the altar of
 my soul she lit....

an american  blog goddess
who gave me tips as a journaler
made me Blog It

than she dumped me
like a piece of dog shit ..

Once Upon A Time There Was An American Lady Who Called Me A Shia Thug

piercing the poetry
of my capricious soul
with a slug perhaps
she was uncomfortable
with my Chameleon like
mug..my cosmic rings
my colorful turban my
barefeet on my shoulders
a woven shawl like rug
her clawed nails into the
flesh of my poetry she dug..
an incident in Baghdad had
a demonic effect on her
fastidious demeanor..
an incident that was frivolous
media created humbug
i called her blog goddess
perhaps she did have feelings
of a sympathetic nature for
shutterbugs ..fondly remembered
through this post with love and hugs

sartorially signed by the shia thug..
sweet lady all is fair in love and war
please dont get bugged ..water
flowing freely from a bleeding jug..

Indian Desis Are Not For Me Per Se

no not in charity

no not even as free

i have given my

indigenous heart

to a goddess

my ass bent on my knee

somewhere out there

in a cybernetic soundless ocean

she who does not hear me

my 50th blog

uploading

my faults for free

click fraud google friendly

Tantric Kundalini

barefeet

tantric kundalini

powered

no shoe

thoughts

of a goddess

ensue

tear drops

that taste like dew

my poems

are part of you

waiting

outside a trembling door

in queque

Cock Teased Cybernetic Love

sweeping shadows on the sand
choreographed misery of falling in love
with a blog goddess
a mythological cybernetic
apparitionliving in wonderland
me at her beck and command
haughty , arrogant intimidating wordpowered fiesty firebrand
she takes my words out of context reasons I failto understand
yes recylced emotionsmy flippant feelings on the block secondhand
man is an island woman a mirageof a receeding mainland
dashed on her shores my tryst with destinymy testicular fortitude shedding
tears unpreplanned a blogger a love the last stand far away a misty hanky
a waving unbraving ladies hand
it is humanto be human feel the agoniesof an unclaimed fairyland
my dreams touching heavens my feet sinking in earthy quicksand
on my multi colored posterior made in india a home made brand thirsting for
lovein a foreign land
that she wasonly cock teasing me this she never told me
beforehandAmerican women a script
more confusing than mere shorthand

Peace Silence No Surge

standing wet

shivering

catching

a cold

outside the graveyard

silence of her trembling door

like little baby waves kissing

the hem of her receeding sea shore

she who once called me a journaler

now is blog spotted through her back door

two comments from this indian labradors

he wants nothing to do with me furthermore

an american blog goddess my multicolored

fuckwit heart wont ignore

to old times she who can make me

or break me wont restore

enslaved to a sly moment we did not explore

poetic pestilence pictorial parody my paramour

Locked Out

cybernetic love

with an anaconda like

writhing

wrestling bout

shadowless poetry

silhouetted sorrow

on the look out

a trembling door

tingling tremors

within a silence

muted a choking shout

a disillusioned lover

on the look out

one sided love

a total wash out

nikon camera hung

like an albatross

round my neck

pictures of

pictorial pain

scout

a shia thug devout

digital delusions

dichotomy of love

roundabout

inundated

predated

monsoonal emotional

showers

my souless heart

in a dampened drought

a radio humper

roger roger

over and out

a snipers bullet

making

love to my wound

in the dug out

firoze shakir

Yes I am Back

dumped

on the mound of derelict

pulverized car yard

trying to remember her

this shia thug die hard

registered on her web page

a broken heart of a

dehyderated

broken bottle

thirst bleeding

on a glass shard

this pedestrian poet

street bard

a joker a knave

she a blog goddess

a trump card

a heart pumping iron

blood concrete

vanguard

from here

via so many

links

best regard

yes what was once deleted

pulled me toward

through the back yard

of a dying love

blooming in a

bust nest graveyard

this rotten bad tomato

smashed discard

repressive depressive

regressive aggressive

disbarred

only by invitation

send the blog author

a cybernetic post card

yes I am back

all back scarred

hopes and aspirations

like burnt love letters

ashes to ashes

all charred

firoze fuckwit shakir

Finger Fucked for Life

My life

on the cybernet

Word press

Bloggerspot

Once buzznet

Dreams shocking

Dreams jay walking

Dreams lip locking

I d like to forget

What you want

You don’t get

Thoughts of her

My pants get wet

Her trembling door

My shooting jet

Nostalgia

Falling in love

On the Internet

Uninvited

Breaking my head

On her blue toilet

No woman no cry

No sweat

No regret

No threat

One sided love

My only asset

For making me a poet

I am in her debt

She the blogger queen

Blog goddess

In her kingdom

Of the Alphabet

Her burnt glove

Singed memories

Of her kitchenette

Only her love if

She would sub let

But she treats me

Like a stranger

She has never met

She only she

I can never forget

Finger fucked for life

My bust nest

firoze shakir