NAUSHERITES – the last writes of nausher nash banaji

The black + white poetry and skin + stone photography by Nausher Nash Banaji. All words and pictures copyright © Nausher Nash Banaji.


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The house on the rock, the writing on the wall
Give me back my secrets before I fall
Inside of me, in spite of me
I have the key, I have the key
It doesn’t matter how you persist
If it is not in frame it doesn’t exist –

Nausher Nash Banaji Duo


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Beauty makes a heaven of hell, there was a time it knew me well
Walls don’t work, you always say, but open the doors anyway
I can stand, I can fall, it’s my choice to fly or crawl
What I love and what I hate are the hands that guide my fate – Nausher Nash Banaji Duo


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Water on the shore, fate at my door
I dont care anymore if I’m a prince or a whore
The Savonarolas of the world have been at it for centuries
Burning down beauty in a bonfire of the vanities
Praising the ugly and questioning our sanity
In the name of love everything is profanity
I shoot and I write – That’s what takes me through the night
I have beauty on my brain like you probably have money, god and fame
Let Savonarola come and burn it all down
My finger is on the shutter and I still wear the crown


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When I see the rabid, virtue signalling pc mob on social media
I’m reminded of all the other times they frothed their hysteria
Here they come with pitchforks and pamphlets
Spitting out commandments from their broken tablets
I can smell the rancid sweat of their hate and ignorance,
Their bad breath and their bad opinions
I’m seeing their posts, gnarled, plastic and empty
Their faces oozing ugliness, wearing masks to hide the ugly
Out of their septic holes they hiss and they spew
Box cars to ‘protection camps’ – they are the first in que
-Nausher Nash


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In the end it is all just a speck in my eye
I just want to take a moment to say goodbye
I know I made a mistake coming here again
Can I remind myself of what, where and when
In a dream and a prophecy, barely a trace of that place in me
I look in the mirror and all I see, the ebb and flow of memory – NausherNash


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This is my temple
And I am it’s priest
This is my religion
And I am it’s prophet
This is my world
And I am it’s god
The night is done
Gone with the wind of the first sun
Dreams on ice
Crucified twice
I want to be alone with me
A transparent layer in history
You ask if I’m religious and this is what I say
I kneel to the naked and to beauty I pray
I see the winding vines of history
Splattered with blood and blame
And every decision ever made
Has vanity in its name

-Nausher Nash Banaji Duo