Thursday, December 12, 2013

Bhuwan Thapaliya's Poem


Poetry
How little you know of poetry,
if you say-it is a very simple art!
“Oh! Never say that, never again,
for in its simplicity is its complexity.
Ah! Poets, they go to the end of their
thoughts, and then come back
to the beginning. And they keep on
repeating these marathon innings,
on and on; day after day and night
after night, sauntering hopefully
towards their destination - Poetry.
© 2005 Bhuwan Thapaliya

We are as diverse as the stars
I am not
in you
you are
not in me.
We are
as diverse
as the stars
in the sky;
we are
not us
we are
total strangers.

You live
in the color
of the rainbow
and wear
the linings
of the cloud
whereas; I live
in the silhouette
of the tyranny
and wear
the costume
of disparity.

You sleep
in the crescent bed
of the moon
and drink
the pristine
morning dew
whereas, I sleep
in the circular
bed of the adversity
and drink
my own sweat
in the severe heat of the noon.

You play
with the
Saturns ring
and caress
the countenance
of the sun
whereas, I play
hide and seek
with the death
and caress
the wounded hub
of my dreams.

You breathe
the divine
zephyr
and think
like the cadence
of the heaven
whereas; I breathe
the twister
of belligerence
and think
like the
stagnant pond.

You shine
like the moon
in the full moon night
and soar
like the free bird
in the itinerary of the sky
whereas, I am
shrouded by the
miseries of life
and soar to fall again
like the ashes
into the air.

You bequest
fragrance
to the rose
and perpetual
persistence
to the river
whereas, I steal
the fragrance
from the rose
and curse
the river
for drowning my hope.


Bhuwan Thapaliya was born in Kathmandu in 1976, and is one of the most widely read Nepali poet writing in English today. He is the author of,” Our Nepal, Our Pride (Cyberwit.net, ISBN 978 – 81- 8253 – 115 -4)”, narrative verses of love, peace and human understandings. His main theme often hinges round the globalization of love, peace and universal solidarity. He has read his poetry across the country and abroad. His poems and articles have been widely published in such journals and periodicals such as Kritya, The Foundling Review, Tajmahal Review, Nuveine Magazine, Poetry Life and Times, VOICES( Education Project), The Vallance Review, Longfellow Literary Project, The Global Politician and Poets Against the War. 

Friday, December 6, 2013

When child is born in Indian-subcontinent.

Before pregnancy
Don’t they ask son or daughter?
Son is an income, a blessing,
Daughter is an expense, half-hearted welcome.

With the first cry
Dips tear of shame.
Born alive, but for those
She is still to be born.

In this world of Mr. and Miss
No man or woman
Will accrue as desired.

So what’s between these two creatures?
One very sour, can’t be embraced,
Another very mellifluous, can’t be rejected.
One strange to be called your own.
Another not strange,
Though will be sold
 If goods in the market.

No man or woman
Will accrue as desired
So aren't in this world of Mr. and Miss,
Is a child born not of his or her?

MY Grandfather


I looked in the mirror
Saw a stranger waiting.

He greeted, ‘smiling at me
If am his lost beloved.

In his eyes I saw,
Dreams of my youth.

The curve of his lips
Has same story to narrate like i like to narrate.

His gray hair,
Has same fragrance like of my black hair.

The stranger in the mirror
Seems so similar, if I.

From  his eyes dipped tears,
Running through his bony cheeks, like often of mine.

Suddenly, In him i smelled the taste of my root.
That's when I saw my unseen grandfather.

Of time my mirror mind drew, my face as
His face.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Faith

When, man away from heaven,
Beauty of narration cheats
Wisdom of a man.
At a time,
Faith in love is more a love than love.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Winter Dream

Winter sun,
Old fashioned and cruel.
Cold air-Blows,
During farewell cracks my cheek.

Burning bonfire
Into I gaze deeply

Chicken  Soup
Groundnut seed

Burning candles
And red wine on a table

Aha! Winter came to
 Ride me in a dream.


Thursday, November 28, 2013

Untitled

Home,
My wakeful dream.

I live in my heart,
Land where only I can pass.

Sheltered and protected.
Still, it seems, I belong to another heart.

With desire of my heart,
Afraid of claiming and questioning.

I and others,
Scattered chained souls.

Wandering around the world,
Making story that echoes of human history.


Thursday, November 21, 2013

Question


Piled phrase of words, inscribes question in wavy way
Just to tell me, what I’am lacking

Thy devotion

Thee sung, song of thy devotion
Thine this song set apart,
Thee from the rest of singer.

Firm in the knot of love and
Trust that thee hold
       When I wandered inside the dense fog.
          Continuing love....
            Ah! and how thou try to weave, stronger the knot.
               Quietly made ​​my heart go melt like child.

Inside mundane life of mine,
Emanated rays of joy.
Thee smile of iridescent beam.
      When I look sullen,
       Thee hug the frail with benevolence
          Knowing incessant of weak.

I haven’t known
Thee shared thy dream with me
        Now equally,
           I give you, mine.
               Not for compensation, nor to repay thy kindness

                Only just as thou taught love for love.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Dreams

Steep mountains  of well composed
Before you and your dream

Climb,
May climb vain, but climb
You know-
Stone turns to handful of soil

Nuisance of mind
Let them roam free
Dreams are form of flower
Brings full of pleasure.

Tsunami

Waves are rolling high like soaring Eagle
The winds are in furious form
Silence, silence
Before Tsunami rages the town

Creatures are fleeing
 As if water are sparks of fire

Hark! Sound of thunder
Boastfully growling

Dark clouds are gathering behind dark clouds
 Folklore
 Dogs are barking like never before.

See yesterday’s beautiful sea
Boiling wild like eruption of volcano
The resonance of waves
Coming
 Crashing I hear
I accept, come take my life

Chosen one!

Many goes silence before her brownish eye
From there,  many a heart melted
Of wise one, innocent one
Ah! And many a masculine

 In shape, her calm body evokes pleasure
Many a man try to swim like fish in the water
She foreboding, Rejected many
And to her pure delight, chosen one with colors of rainbow.

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Dance of Nature

Soft melodies of night air
Playing enthralling sound
And the leaves of trees dancing in that melody
Elegance in their movement, beautiful dancing.

While to bring out missteps
Street light spotting each move
They spins 
Lifts their body back and forth
Each moves sparks and delights 
 Starry eye of sky.

Mesmerizing sounds scatters
 An owl being caught by spell
Comes flying 
Comes alive
While, their nervousness starts to wane
And if sink in oneness, they starts to dance 
Becoming one soul.

Voice of wind

The murmuring voice of the wind
Gently swirls
And dies away
After passing the northern mountain
However, still an eternal melody plays its plot
Offers peace to the me, to be at peace.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Her dream

My love far behind the plains and the mountains
She is my love that reassures me, my presence
With her loving presence

In the garden of every time and date
As ocean of my memories
Slowly folds
My eyes begin to see her elegant face
She appears as beauty from different eras
And roams over my thoughts as sweet rhymes
Her dream carries me in her arms
And my heart starts to cherish our love that has charm.

My Beloved

Bluish sky Illuminating with grace
As my beloved's infinite charm

Nightingale producing impeccable tone,
As my beloved's comforting voice.

Silk curtains, swifts my hand,
As soft touches of my beloved's hair.

Stars'  twinkling
As my beloved's gentle smile.

Full white flawless moon, glisten
As my beloved's pretty face.

Insects flying with eternal bliss
As aura of my beloved's presence

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Grandmother

Strange horrifying sound howls
Dog barks and barks,
 If witch roaming in human form.

 Unwillingly, but of fear,
 Fearful story of “Steaming blood and man” resembles
That once my grandmother told.

Blood reminds me of death of old woman
Twitching, bleeding
When bullet pierced through her throat

And feared-mind rolled she standing outside my door,
In dark, as angry storm-clouds
Ready to thrill, ready to haunt

From window,
Sound starts coming louder,
Drift of leafs as smashing

I folded praying hand, 
With grieve, I thought she sacrifice once
And quiet as a Cricket in the cold, close my eyes.

Note
[1]  Praying hand is the act of releasing, Grandmother’s soul from the mind as in the  mind she was still alive, even after passing 10 years from her death. 

Friday, November 8, 2013

I call it my own



I call it my own 
 It has no sweet fragrance as roses have. 
But i call it my own
As only I have witnessed the bloom 

 See the world from window, 
A happy world, 
A quiet world, 
A beautiful world.

Photo by Nyima Dorjee Bhotia

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Life

Life is too short to feel joy for, like beautiful night dream, 
It comes and vanishes along the morning sun. 

Beyond the prison cell, your eyes are forbidden 
You as a prisoner; life is too long to live



Melina's Voice

When Melina sings- soft music, night illuminates out of moon
Her voice very melodious, as sound of free birds, embraced by all.

After all these years, a wretch grey-haired poet hears motionless
Peacefully, arouse, lost in depth thought of goddess.

Listening chorus, a young lover sits down under a tree – renewing vigor
Enjoying over her voice like farmer upon the first shower of rainy season.

When Melina sings- soft music, night illuminates out of moon
Her voice very melodious, as sound of free birds, embraced by all.


Saturday, November 2, 2013

Kathmandu a paradise lost

Unpronounceable man comes from so many land, half unnamable. 
But memory sings of paradise lost

 Her heart, old room without roof
Silence; silence all she learned, from ever she born

Fire burns wild, turns everything ashes and smoke
Decades gone, unflourished, her body, a bare tree

Kathmandu is a broken land of broken men
Here Angel sings, defeat of god in god's own land.

Troubling past

Past deeds are still troubling,
 Today it seems laughter has died, Guilt has taken its place
Everywhere shadow lines are drawn.
I looked into my eyes, they do not change,
Nor they seem in a hurry to disappear.

Upper Himalayas

Here, every peak is scared
Every ancient looking Stones have entangled stories
Every lake has myth
Inside every river resides god and goddess

Here, if you remember any sin committed
Go, prayer flag will guide you the way
Chorten is hundred meter far away

Here, snow fails to frozen human will
scorching sun has no power to thrill 

Here if you visit, friendly countryman will say
Welcome, welcome to hidden heaven.

Mt.Everest.

Tenzing, was one, who made it all
Now, so many Tenzing-s, are on his way. 
But i wonder who is next  Tenzing?
Me? surely i am not.

Friday, November 1, 2013

Methok

Her name brought spring in my journey
Methok, a flower
She knows the path
Where my heart wants to reach


That Night

That night, I have known this great paradise
I saw the darkness of the world in the absence of all light
Silence was a moon, near my eye.

Seeing my eyes got dropped in shame
Old, ancient-sky gazed through the poisonous air
And young Himalayan Mountains had a good laugh.

I heard a man's best friend is a great tree,
But at the need, I wonder where he be?
Inside this hollow world.