English Hate for the Native.

English Hate for the Native.
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

photo courtesy
www.urc.org.u
k/reform_magazine/racism/racism-fist-large.gif


what bullshit
to wit
caught between a clit twat and a tit
white man who hates
indian poets who
write in his language
he loves to run down and spit
searching for forum quotes this twit
to racists in poetry
his aussie friend he gives a clean chit
soon life will come to an end
darkness at dawn shadows unlit
this slithering slimy serpent of a poet
who lives in a poem hunter snake pit
disemboweling his intrinsic hate
dying poem by poem, day by day bit by bit
this racist repulsive bedridden brit
living in a dreamy fools poetic castle
truth of his bigotry he wont admit
he is nothing but a slovenly sucked up
shit head on the face of it...
in love and racial war everything legit
english hate for the native unholy writ
this may be you if the cap fits

dedicated to a viking goddess ...

what rhymes with allen james saywell

what rhymes with allen james saywell
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

photo courtesy

www.news.com.
au/common/imagedata/0,,5316304,00.jpg

what rhymes with allen james saywell

i am scared to tell
thomas devine might yell
his idea that
i repackage and re sell
allen james saywell
is synonomous syndicate of
australian racist poets cartel
arsewell carswell saywell
does that ring a bell
all have their places
reserved in hell
disembowelled
bowel vowel poetry
forum quotes a finger that
he shoved up my ass
like roses it smells
Wycombe county
racist dreams
hate for indian poets
that write in english
repels
poisoned pen dipped
in arsenic ink wells
i digress back to
saywell
pederast pernicious
pompous poet
unwell
gangubai
the gonorrheal whore
of mumbai cages
he did bid farewell
his bastard child
half black half white
Indo Australian amity
so swell
bim bombay boy
did fark him
poetically
this stupid moron
dumb bell
intelligence the lack of it
in the void of his head
minus brain cell
words he cant punctuate
or spell
awesome dick head son

a cause that needs not rebel

Thank you Mr Devine..this poem inspired by you.. after I rated your last poem month..10

firoze shakir photographerno1

Our Blood is our Humanity

Our Blood is our Humanity
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

I asked a kind Bengali gentleman to shoot me with the Goddess in the background..
I have shot close to 290 pictures , most have got dust marks thanks to my defective Nikon D70, I had it repaired and serviced , so I have to clone the spots in the sky..
The spots on my heart I need not clone..
Because of my love for Saffron, and my crystal clear views on Hope and Hindutva, my few radical detractors call me a Shia Pandit..
A name that has stuck to my inner being..at least I am happy they give credit to my being a Shia too and Hazrat Imam Hussain did love Hindustan dearly , the army of warriors of Empror Chandragupta who came to Karbala to defend the grandson of the Holy Prophet , found they had reached after Yazid had ravaged the land and the Holy Family.Out of respect they never went back o India, so a bit of India lies buried in Karbala..
A man who loves Hussain needs no religion he loves Humanity and that is what Hussainiyat translates as , on the human soul..Yazidiyat is cowardice, modern radical Jehadi Terrorism, that shames the Holy Prophets teachings and the edicts of Peace and Brotherhood..
Killing in the name of the Maker , killing in the name of Misplaced Martyrdom, killing in the name of a Holy Jihad is certainly not True Islam..
Babarism of Yazid lives in a vipers nest in the guise of the terrorists who hide like eunuchs behind lades hijabs..
push button terrorism ridiculing all that as we Muslims all over the world stand for..Live and let others live ..
The colors of humanity are not colors of caste , race or creed but the colors of our blood that flows as human universal stream of Equality.

Balancing Faith

Balancing Faith
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

Magic of Mystical India

Magic of Mystical India
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

It is our Gods and Goddessea and our 365 days feast days that keep us intact as Indians , Holi, Diwali , Ramzan, Moharam, Gokul Ashtami, Ganesh Chaturthi, Xmas, Easter and the list is long..the unique colors of human weft and waft, that weave an entire carpet , a welcoming carpet of diverse races, diverse religions held up in the peaks of our mountain ranges and the waters of our holy rivers.What the social leaders and politicians cant do, the community does it for us.
We enjoy each others feats, we feel Ramzan as we hear the Arti of Lord Ganesha the bursting of the cracker that tells its time to beak our days fast,, both side by side cheek by jowl at Bandra Bazar Road..
And I am crying now ,tears of my love for all religions as I see their uniquness through the lens of my camera..Yes I am a Hindu Yes I am a Muslim, I am the two sides of a single coin called India.
That the dieties call out to me to shoot them is enough water on my parched soul..so much that it woould take me several rebirths to shoot the soul of my country.
And honestly I have yet to see my country, a task that is simply herculean , so it is Mumbai for me Juhu beach that becomes the banks of the Hooghly, I become a Bong, I want to dance with them, these beautiful people of West Bengal.. who hold Kolkatta in the palm of their hearts..
That I once loved a doe eyed dusky Bengali Belle called Archana in school has nothing to do with my love for the Goddess of Peace and Prosperity Goddess Durga..
That I never could forget Gora of Rabindranath Tagore or Satayajit Roys Shatranj ke Khiladi and here I drop a tear for a lady who left her impressions on my life Late Mrs Rupa Gupta daughter of late comic actor Asit Sen..
This is my Shradanjali to a person who was a living Goddess.. on earth and redeemed anyone she touched with her humiloty and life that was service to the general public..
I did not know I would write about her , yes Mr PPC all that glitters is dust it touches you as gold..and to dust we become leaving behind a trail of golden memories..
RIP
Mrs Rupa B Gupta

WELCOME TO POEM HUNTER CHUCK TOLL

WELCOME TO POEM HUNTER CHUCK TOLL
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

photo courtesy
www.pjhlaw.co.uk/uploads/images/Racist_sheep.jpg

Dear Chuck Toll
Forgive me
I am the Black Sheep
of poemhunter
perhaps you may not recall
poemhunter staff are always busy
they wont hear your call
the Ads keep them happy
the money rolls in
they dont neeed to play ball
you me are just poets
dehumanised
desensitized brick in the wall
some dwarved by humility
some racists walking tall
some are toddlers just learning
to crawl
some old farts
pretentious poets they love
to malign and maul
some love to get into a brawl
some who sweep in
as hate comments of a squall
you say you are 3 months old
you wont be getting any more older
just take life as it comes bugger all
visit the poem hunter forum
more exciting than climbing
mount everest in nepal
here all masked men
women eunuchs hijdas
transgenders
poetically speaking
a masquerade ball
you will also find
a Mogadishu Mullah
Abdullah Diriye
speaking about Islam
with his head covered in a prayer shawl
allen james saywell and david hazell
and the missing rugby ball..
as for me AJS Arsewell are teaching me the
Australian crawl
swimming with racist sharks
might be my last call.


Thank you for inspiring this poem
Wish you well
Firoze Shakir

firoze shakir photographerno1

Durga Visarjan/Possessed Lady

Durga Visarjan/Possessed Lady
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

This afternoon I decided to go to Juhu Beach to shoot the Immesion of Goddess Durga and the Garbhis that represent this Godddess of Fecundity..
Here too I was lucky that I did not get hammered , as I spoke Marathi to save my skin.A lady while doing Puja to the Goddess , went into a trance, possessed by the spirit of Kali Mata, I took some three shots when I was threatened as they thought I was a foreigner, I spoke in Marathi and excused myeslf, before the situation went out of hand.The possessed lady was talking in a hoarse voice and was under the control of the Devi within her, after the guy accosted me he said something and just dropped on his head straight on the floor , it was scary I dare not look back.. and moved towards the other end of the main Juhu beach..
I will post the pictures later..

All these pictures I am posting at Flickr , so check out my photo stream..