Wednesday, July 31, 2013

We Indians Dream Of A Better Tomorrow



hope we continuously
beg steal or borrow
we are entrenched
in warfare with sorrow
back to where we
were day after
tomorrow ..

By -

Sometimes In India Even God Cant Save The Girl Child ..




condemned
to death much
before she was
born,,,crushed
before she could
bloom  she is gone
robbed of her inherent
innocence her beauty
before she sees dawn
wingless creature
none to mourn
considered devi
goddess yet
raped sodomized
acid thrown on her face
that once shone
fodder supply on demand
for titillating porn..
on her body lying
on a cold  morgue
table lone forlorn
caught between
human lust devilish
scorn...and i can
go on and on


By -

My Pictures Are Too Ordinary For Picture Walls



i shoot hope
in closed eyes
of blind beggars
your senses
assault i shoot
human beings
reptilian legs
that toddle crawl
i shoot wobbly
legs that stand
as they fall
i shoot beggars
drunken brawls
i shoot whores
at peels house
painted dolls
men dressed
as hijras at
kamatipura
on phone call
i shoot vermin
i shoot garbage
porn.. i shoot
faceless silence
of crumbling walls
i shoot lepers
hidden in tattered
shawls .i shoot
my inner angst
not found on
facebook walls
what i shoot is
finger fucked
all balls ..

By -

beggars are the only indigenous export from India nobody wants



our beggars
resilience
a kind of
toughness
beneath
the deformed
veneer flaunt
our beggars
are humble
home grown
dont taunt
we could
export them
to other holy
cities of
the world
but our
beggars
nobody
wants
because
before
you export
our beggars
you have
to export
those who
feed beggars
at roadside
restaurants
our beggars
will only eat
their food
a question
of detente
a political question
before India and Arabs
a thought that haunts

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The Only Thing The Beggar Does Not Need To Beg For Is Babies..



the only job
he knows best
in and out
drunken dilemma
when the lights
go out
screwing his
wife babies
sprout
wrestling bout
babies bring
in more money
no doubt
drugged mutilated
the  burnt hand
of the child
he pulls out  at traffic
signals with a
medicine
 prescription
 in hand is what it
is about,, mother
fucking lout
extra money
from extra mouths
he hates people
like me who shoot him
at his regular hangouts
a poetic tragedy
for the child
a travesty of fate
totally worn out

ps ... he is wearing a head scarf pretending to be a muslim beggar during ramzan phase out
By -

This Child Has A Dream..


madam all sprayed
perfumed ..inside her
car sees the dregs of
society untouchables
from far ..at the mahim
traffic signal snarl.
hating every moment
the filth squalor
demeaning dehumanizing
the pristine whiteness
of her jaguar the girl child
staring into her cold
eyes a scene bizarre
she would give her
soul away but not her
money to be transported
back to her ladies bar
with her socialite friends
kitty partyladies of khar

By -

Muscular dystrophy


the muslim beggar
of destiny cant
move his hands
legs no part free
held in chains
bound by
muscular
mental
physical
disability
he cannot
talk walk
eat you
can see
dying
gradually
in the rains
a plastic rain
coat for cover
for his guardian
he is source
of money
this is bandra
inhuman
insensitive
to a muslim
boys weakening
deteriorating
condition
on bent knees
at jamat e
jamooriyah
jj colony
a beggars
lane on
display
our municipal
councilors
feudal
territory
give the
poor a hand
let them die
peacefully
ramzan mubarak
eid mubarak
to all sundry

By -
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