Poetry on Friends, relationships and life lessons.


A beautiful poem on the hollowness of emotions, fake life and friends. How everybody is so engrossed in their own life.

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Cartoons are easy,
To mock
Create one yourself.
An activist in sex trafficking,
Or two countries at Odds.
For your consideration,
A free tote bag.
In conversation with Trump
At the house of Nightmares.
To mock.
Cartoons are easy.

(Cited: New Yorker)
(Note:- The poem is a combination of New Yorker Webpage Headlines with not even a single extra word used)

©fidoic First Published in unLost Journal.




Some broken pieces – mirror –

Reflect differently – each one – a piece –

They dare- reveal – ransack – restore –

A different me – each time –

Some cry /some gag /some smile

Some blank /some hollow /some shallow

Deep under- they- lie – about themself-

They repeat /they pretend /they cheat

They portend /they copy/ then they fake

Deep under- they lie- like me- like me

Apple Tree and Me!



                 Pic by Younis Bhat.

Standing tall stocked with red apples,
He earns more than i do.
A kilo of these is my hour’s wage.
A quarter of it my month’s income.

I despise and grow jealous,
Standing still and lazy,
He does what i cant despite
My locomotive and artistic ability.

At 25 he is more independent
And rooted than i can ever be
His vacations are more festooned
And longer than i can ever have

He’s got more friends, the birds
The ants, the bees who sing to him
Vistors form distant lands migrate
Every season to meet him..

He’s socially more responsible
He amends for what i ruin
He reduces carbon imprints
And sucks in pollution

He’s more Famous than me,
He got clients in distant lands
And is talked-of in elite societies.
He’s got relatives all over the world.

The son of a seed!
Brute! Standing still
Outruns me in every field
When he even can’t walk.

What do We Talk When We Talk About Love!

If its not showing love and care…
Not even being always there…
Then what do we talk…
When we talk about love…

If its not touches and kisses…
Not even sending messages of wishes…
Then what do we talk…
When we talk of love…

If its not about gifts and cards…
Not even walking miles of yards…
Then what do we talk…
When we talk about love…

If its not about bread and wine…
Not even siting together to dine…
Then what do we talk…
When we talk about love…

Its first submission and then compromise…
To hang on till eternity and still suffice…
And this is why we dont talk much…
When we talk about this love…

Dr Kalam: A poetic tribute.

now the feet had grown ‘wings of fire’ of their own

the ‘ignited minds’ were numb as a clown

senses collapsed and were scating fast

time ran and was not going to last

tears had life and life tears

eyes denied sight for fears

words fled away trying to hide

ears heard a lot but didnt stride

one was missing a world apart

nobody could find, none’s that smart

a stone just said Rest In Peace

and rest were trying to be in peace..

A tribute to Dr APJ Abdul Kalam.



if you believe in the lines

than mine are fainted,

if you believe in stars,

than mine are clouded,

the blue sky is no more blue,

the black clouds have eaten it up,

if you believe in fate,

than its my enemy,

the road to my home,

is left from his,

he passes by,

from  the turn; mile away.

the umbrella,

keeps me dry,

the rain,

passes overhead.

the forest,

keeps the sun away,

the light never reaches down,

the plants here are wilted,

the tides,

here are shallow,

the waters keep the shells away,

the sand here is dry,

the winter,

here is long,

the yellow remains yellow,

the green is short,

the bed,

here is not soft,

the cotton is unwrought,

the rocks are hard

if you believe in god,

than mine is not,

if you believe in god,

than mine is not,

if you believe in god,

than he almost forgot,

the sun, the water, the rain, the spring, the cotton,

is also for me