Friday, October 26, 2007

Neither Man Nor Woman


Neither Man Nor Woman
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

Not superman
Nor superwoman
Neither Man nor Woman
Born Betrayal
Demystified
Invisible
Housebroken Hijda
Third gender
Anything
But human

Bhaichura mata
Emasculated agony
A saree a bindiya
A bangle
Torn testicles
A pall bearer of
A pubic mound
Phased out phallus
Paralytic penile
Phantasmagoria
A pitcher like peephole
Unforgiven
From door to door
From street to street
Like a stray cattle driven
Dance, beg prostitute
A Barren life
Fecund strife enliven.

Gujrat Bleeds


Gujrat Bleeds
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

An Indian Muslim man stranded on the first floor of his house and surrounded by Hindu rioters begs to nearby police to rescue him in Ahmedabad, the main city in the western Indian state of Gujarat, on March 1, 2002. Troops arrived in India's riot-torn western state on Friday to crush religious violence that has killed more than 190 people in two days, the worst communal bloodshed in a decade. REUTERS/Arko Datta

photo courtesy
www.tribuneindia.com/2002/20020302/ind10.jpg
gandhiji s gujrat bleeds
carnage genocide misdeeds
what happppened than
on tahelka as a sting
one reads
political babus of hate
proud of their evil doing
indians killing indians
weeping weeds
muslim sorrow
chaotic creeds
hatred of ethnicity
nothing but more
division of human values
division of the heart of a nation
enemity hooliganism vigillantism
mobocracy breeds
the words of the holy koran
the words of the bhagwad gita
the words of human inner conscience
no one heeds
yes a single man myopic morbid
twisted
his demonic battalion leads
in mothers wombs
a graveyard of unborn seeds

Lynched in Louisiana


Lynched in Louisiana
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

photo courtesy
www.picturehistory.com/images/products/1/2/9/prod_12935.jpg


in the mirror
of her eye
she sees a cyst
a pictorial poetic image
through the mist
words of hate
on a poem list
her posthomous anger
manacled to her frail wrist
she who lives
in the shadow
resurrecting the ghost
of an english racist
she who emotionally blackmails me
my injured arm twists
she is white she is right
she persists
forgotten
erased on the copy book of her heart
thoughts reminisced
all her sanctimonious salve
i resist
an open palm
the mound of a venus
becomes my clenched fist
black and white as poems
breathe and live
yet as poets cant mutually co exist
lynched in louisiana
in absentia..on her hate list

Racism


Racism
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

photo courtesy
www.brainbasedbusiness.com/uploads/racism-thumb.jpg

Racism is a sad state of a corrupted mind..
a squinted one eyed man kicking the blind

firoze shakir photographerno1

Unite Against Racism


Unite Against Racism
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

photo courtesy
www.campaignbadges.co.uk/mixed%20as%20gif/unite%20against...

Venice Angel
I am not me
Thank you
Mighty One
For your Message
But your door is locked
And muted the silence
Of your door bell
Now you can be evermore
Sarcastic and say
Brown poet goes to hell
But I think
You are more human
More emotion sensitive
Than Ivan Donne Carsewell
Or the Poet of Racist Hate
Called Allen James Saywell
Yes forgive me
I was once the
White supremacist Racist whore
Under a devilish spell
To know the hate that white folks have
for colored folks
And how they revel
I killed her prematurely
Racism in Poetry
Poem Hunter Forum
I don’t need to tell
My fragmented genius
My pictorial poetic pathos
Truth in broken bad English
I give free I don’t need to sell
I could write this in my
Own language..
But translating my eunuch soul
In a mans body
A New Born Poet Rebel

The Hijdas of Moti Katra


The Hijdas of Moti Katra
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

Moti Katra
a home away from home
at Ajmer
fools enter and angels fear to dare
hijdas,eunuchs , transgendered
wing broken, incomplete identity
open hair ,
anklet bells ,
androgynous shenai
all at this festive fair
soul to souls body to body bare
on the khwaja moinuddin chishty s
mazaar sandal, a new hope , share
bhaucahara mata , aryavan of koovagam
also there
Urus time , hijda resurgence
Khwajas Karam
lyrically lilting tilting the air
Basanti queen of the Hijdas
beauty beyond compare
zeenath in serpentine snare
sohel on the balls of his toes
leaps in middair
his entire body in prayer
kaajal her bodily muskish odour
attired emotions in good care
babita, priya from singapore
samba footed on the holy square
O Garib Nawaz..Shakila Syed
Najafgadh a thought do spare
All roads lead to Moti Katra
the Servant of the Lord God
his omniscience
his omnipresence
everywhere
even the poorest of poor
Hijda
becomes a millionaire
at Urus time in Ajmer

My Hijda Stories Will Never End Bushed


My Hijda Stories Will Never End Bushed
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

Me Man Metaphoric Man
Choked on a Hijda River Bend
My Pictures My Poems
As Hijda Stories that will never end
Yes call it Conceit for the Hijdas
I am God sent
I show you their
androgynous amorphous world
every moment a Hijda spends
soulless shrieks that
stained window panes of hearts
thunderously rends
making its way into choked
gutters of mankind
as it wends
economizing on handful
of poetically second hand words
recycled as renewed sorrow
to make amends
yes hijdas are friends of friends
how you see them how they see you
is how it depends
a simple thought
beyond materialistic odds and ends
trinkets on dancing feet
a prayer to God
from the Holy Shrine
of Khawajah Moinudddin Chishty
to a Hijda Paradise transcends

Well , here I am at my shop , I walked from my house via Jain Mandir, without a camera, but I have come to a conclusion, that now my eyes watch what I see as a window that opens up as pictures, its a crazy thought, but I see what I see as pictures,about 18 months back Yorriik from Woolongong at Buzznet told me Firoze I like what you see, I want to add now that I show what I see , as the Almighty a Picture God himself is a better Photographer No1 than me, he shoots , from the lips unlike me, he captures his own divinity in a drop of a tear that falls from a human eye.. he is omnipresent his photography omniscient , his picture a Raw Image , you see it as digital rendering, or at times he uses the analogue Nikon F100 than you see his scrptured silence as negatives, he was using the Nikon D 70 but that troubled him no end , the tuberculosis condition, the pictorial phlegm choked his picture taking.
Yes God uses Japanese Cameras…
Like me God loves poetry, his poetry is more violent in nature , his titles are scary.. An Ode To Lady Hurricane , Tsunami, Cloudburst, Earthquake, Famine, what he cant shoot , well the American President shoots for him, from the hips of course, the Presidents titles are Consumer friendly.
Bushism is here to stay I am the Decider
Death is Terirble
I call it Pure Evil
An ideology of Hate an ideology of Hope
7.5 pound largemouth bass in my lake.
A Charge To Keep,
“I aim to be a competitive nation”

So God likes Hijdas , the Children of a Lesser God , God is dichotomous by nature , the Man God the Woman God, it is only recently that a new God came out breaking away in rebelliousness with a clause the Hijda God…The Hijda God is the all powerful, God , there is is a Hijda Gospel, there is a Hijda Messiah, there is also a Hijda Anti Christ .
The Hijda Bawas represent the Hijda God.
Unlike the Hijda Messiah the Hijdas get crucified everday by the Dichotomous System that sucks .
So my Hijda Stories will never end.. once the Hijda gets Net Worth Savvy at a click he will be transported to Hijdaland a cybernetic poetic pictorial creation of my mind..its metaphoric euphoric mindlessness.
Indian newspapers dont use my kind as photojournalists or my kind of writers…my kind is yet to come out of the closet…
We are a rare breed of bloggers the world forgot .. blogger rubbished ha ha ha

April 27th, 2007

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