he wont come back...

he wont come back...
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

he bought her to mumbai
showed her the sights
gateway of India
chowpatty
marine drive
haji ali dargah
worli sea face
carter road
promenade
to her childish delight
he told her stay here
I will book tickets
for our return to
the hometown
tonight ..
he has not come back
almost a fortnight
she waits hoping
against hope
female fear female fright
alien city she sleeps
eats on a bench
at this sea side
under a badly lit lamplight
the folks walkers
talkers and joggers
seeing her plight
are kind and polite
help her with money
clothes and some bite
they lodged a complaint
at the bandra police station
they said they would
search for him
once they got some clue alright
she did not have his picture
only his name no height
name pappu ke pitaji
or papus father
was all she could highlight
she does not know
to read or write
her village baharpur
near faizabad district
her birthplace
no future no foresight

do you think he will come back ?
she sitting awaiting
a sound of his footsteps
she a bit of darkness ,
and he
her hope of an
extinguishing
candlelight

bushism

bushism
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

no not a political
paraplegy
no not a poetic
elegy
bushism
how to influence
people and lose friends
a new dale carnegie
core strategy
a new code of honor
a new religion
not to be confused
with Buddhism
you will see
involuntary renouncement
of immaterialistic thought
a new hope
a new facism
a new light under
a white house tree
karma dharma
no mind games
to be or not to be
a new iraq to be built
from a debris
new Afghanistan
talibanisation
to some degree
a new evangelistic
a cross eyed
cresent like
pedigree
a holy fire
ambushed
no guarantee
god in supermans world
an absentee
no more confusion
bushism a lock
that needs no key

north korea
set of an explosion
a kiloton
a nuclear
expedition
on a spree

iran
revolutionary guards
an exercise on the sea
great prophet 2
bursting
clustered crackers
like diwali
at the mouth
of the Hormuz
Persian gulf
a show of strength
against the Yankee.



I like to tell people when the final history is written on Iraq,
it will look like just a comma because there is –
my point is, there's a strong will for democracy." –

You know, one of the hardest parts of my job is to connect Iraq to the war on terror."

We shouldn't fear a world that is more interacted." –

"I tell people, let's don't fear the future, let's shape it."

"I would say the best moment of all was when I caught a 7.5 pound largemouth bass in my lake

"I aim to be a competitive nation."

You never know what your history is going to be like until long after you're gone

a web of silence

a web of silence
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

caught in
a slippery web
not of my making
a tailored web..
some heart breaking
sartorial setting
designerscape
me my angst
my picture taking
of a love my love
forsaking
my love her silence
as love mistaking
cybernetic love
internet shattered wires
some earth quaking
molten lava
of hate overflowing
my imagination
finger fucked
love making
a slippery
spidery web
dharma karma
of my unmaking

omerta the code of silence

omerta the code of silence
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

my damned
soul
soullessly
solarized
pirouetting
on its toes
solessly
polarized
sprinkled
holy waters
of despair was
once baptized
made a muslim
cut wounded
unbled
circumsized
born into a hindu
hinterland
an Indian muslim
franchised
shia configuration
undisguised
by the so called
neo muslims
tabblikis
their jammati cousins
highly despised
live and let live
my philosophy
of a sane world
peace peaceabilty
theorized
became a blogger
last October
on the backwaters
of her brackish
heart capsized
cybernetic love
one sided mirror
stylized
a contract on my ass
don’t be surprised
omerta the code of silence
surmised
a part of me living
a part of me demised

Obituary to a Dead Poem Hunter

Obituary to a Dead Poem Hunter
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

imprisoned in a gitmo
of my tombstone ,
mummy like
film negative
that has me
clothbound
on a mound ..
raised
on a pedestal
a few feet
above the ground
a few lit unlit candles
the breeze of her
silence and no sound
the waves lashing
my burial ground
as they come
revengefully
a part of me
in their sorrow drowned
my buried face down..
my ass multicolored
kissed blue and brown..
she stepping in her red gown
a tribute to a dead poem hunter
sentiments showered on the rebound
her assertive silence now ultrasound
dubiously drastically so profound
little weeds pushing their way
out of my ass
abound craning their necks
kissing her feet above ground
raising his leg ablutions of a holy
water her pet blood hound
my grave funereal deathly pall like
music surround..
born of a paperback
pornographic novel
my phallus
now finally in death hard bound
rest in peace cybernetic space
my resting place my final
playground

RACISM IN A WHITE HEAD

RACISM IN A WHITE HEAD
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

photo courtesy

www.gasolinealleyantiques.com/kits/images/Miscellaneous/i...

metal tiger toothlessly roars
the reader snores
as words soporific words
pours and pours
domestic chores unattended
ineternet wires tremble indoors
racism product of a european mind
the first time she saw a cockroach
and she swore
recycled regurgitation
not knowing what was in store
sudden shock poetic hymen tore

The White Mans Hoax

The White Mans Hoax
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

photo courtesy
www.heartsongs.org/images/Jesus_Crucified.jpg


Termites infesting the soul of poetry
Racism his hidden in the crevices
Of a mans white soul thoughtlessly
He hates the colored mans eloquence
In pain bleeds him with barbs unnecessarily
Superiority of his skin of his race
His downfall degradation one day
Finally.
He slays his own god crucifies him
Violently makes us pay
For his sins and converts
Us to empty hollow Christianity
The black man had god much before you
A clean closer to nature love
Of man as his spirituality
White man has wealth power
No wisdom and no humanity