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Best Poems From
BED PRAKASH BHATTA
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1.
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Dreaming The Dream
As the eyes closed,
the brightness was more intense.
And with all my aspirations-
the pleasure turned real immense.
The veins obeyed the rhythm,
and the neurons alligned.
The splash took it all-
for the canine whined.
A palace,
and the cobweb encroachment.
Few souls-
with their worthy sentiment.
A shout from nowhere,
broke the silence.
Either was an insomniac-
or a nocturnal violence.
Entered a shadow,
with claws in the air.
Chill ran down the spine-
and that was high time to fear.
Hiss, hiss...upon the floor;
and a rodent among the teeth.
Useless was the struggle-
it was for real, and not a myth.
The skeleton was released,
and the blood turned blue.
Nothing devoured nothing-
there was no sense to rue.
As the eyes opened,
the darkness was more intense.
And with all my succeeds-
the pleasure turned real grievance.
Bed Prakash Bhatta
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2.
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Holmes: Detective Articulated
Thinking of
a martyr-
who lost the battle.
Dead,
yet alive.
Corpse,
yet the thrill.
Not the very struggle;
Not the agony.
Not the holyness-
not the particulars.
dear you
dear Arthur.
The square of eleven-
the second of the capitals.
The street;
which we are in search of.
Watson and Holmes-
the companion of self detection.
Immortal is Doyle;
as are his works.
Shall join you,
not being the Lestrade and Gregson.
Mysteries shall we solve-
bring will we the spring.
Blowing is the smoke,
up, up and above.
Won't take the carcinogen-
Not being the passive.
Silence prevailed-
night galloped.
Holmes,
you be the circular;
of bravery-
of the wits.
Bed Prakash Bhatta
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3.
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A Ride Through The Forest
Darkness and silence of a forest,
three strangers.
A chirp,
two roars.
Fear ran-
In all three.
The first bald,
took a gun.
Had it six bullets,
fired five-
remained one.
The second deaf,
took a knife.
Showed his ability
and threw in the dark.
A moan,
Painful to hear-
he didn't know.
Went through the third,
Hurled a stone upwards-
was heavy,
Took him landing down.
Blood through the skull.
Searched other two,
No one in sight.
Heard the same roar,
thought of a lion.
A light in distant,
went near it.
Saw a cigarette lying nearby.
Took it,
first in hands,
then inside the lungs.
Took a long breathe,
thought he lost his anxieties.
Now the howl,
meant nothing.
Stood up,
Shouted aloud.
Threw the cigarette,
Saw his friends nearby.
Both dead,
as he read the impulse.
Got frightened,
had a book to ward off evils.
Read it,
Crossed his fingers;
as he saw a black cat passing by.
'Bread and butter, '
No bread,
No butter-
to eat.
He was hungry,
Belly wanted something.
Thought of fruits-
Saw an apple nearby-
thought of Adam.
Thought of God's denial-
Thought of God's curse.
Sat down.
wept for a while.
Stood up,
wiped out his tears.
Thought of someone,
Again saw a light nearby.
Went along its direction,
Saw a next cigarette-
Took it into the lungs.
Thought of the Alexander-
Suddenly heard the gunshot-
rather he felt the bullet.
He touched his belly,
and there was the last bullet.
Lying in his adipose-
resting as the food
which he was desiring for.
Before taking the last breathe,
Saw a black cat,
Holding a T-shirt,
written-
'STATUTORY DIRECTIVE: SMOKING IS INJURIOUS....'
Bed Prakash Bhatta
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4.
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A Short Tale
Shortened
with the physique
boast of a hell.
A culprit
An offender
Hang it!
Hang!
Hang till death.
respect
isn't its entity
pride it bears.
A shit of no where
A blunt one
Force it!
Force!
Force till it pleads.
Tale
from nowhere
masterpiece be it called.
A preacher of oil
A lubricant
Use it!
Use!
Use till it hallucinates.
Coming
dearly to it
a tremor terminates.
An outwitted
A sarcastic
Dump it!
Dump!
Dump till it becomes a garbage.
Bed Prakash Bhatta
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