Abstract Noise.

In this abstract noise,
where each and every voice, comes from distinct source,
Filled with joy or remorse, 
one among them is mine,
not inseparable from thine,
I am trying to find myself,
In this dark mist of time,
quagmire of felling chime,
holy disdains regime,
and I am trying to tune my rhyme,

Apple Tree and Me!

image

Apples!

                 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…

A Rape Victim’s Cry

Rape victims cry

Rape Victim’s Cry

Call me Damini or Veera,

Or name me Ifshan or Pooja

Rip me apart

Or tear me

Break me into pieces

Or cut me into halves

Burn me to ashes

And then blow them up

Undress me

one by one

Or all at once

Use me, throw me

Or use me again

Use me one time or numerable

Alone

or all together

put me to endless pain

bleed me, and then

do it all over again

push my limits

hard and then harder

but be wary

it just my body

my esteem lies deep within

the scars might heal

but soul still feels

I’ll fight back

If I’ll live

“Or

Else

If I die”

©fidoic, first published in The Critireon: International Journal of English, Dec 2013