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Best Poems From
BED PRAKASH BHATTA
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5.
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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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6.
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Flow within Me...
Listen the blow,
in the silent woods.
Feel the flow,
of love-veins.
hear the sensations,
feel the rhythm!
Observe your heart,
believe your thoughts.
See the world around you,
give your hands.
I heard your song,
i felt the air,
i felt your body.
I learned your thoughts,
Observed the every beat of your heart;
I felt your flow within me.
Wait!
The bullet has landed.
Is it within your soft skin?
Check!
Listen!
That must be the mine-explosion.
Where is your heart?
Where is the beat?
Triolly,
the movement;
the air has faded.
Your brother,
where is his heart?
where is his beat?
Say,
speak up!
'manage time for love, '
I did.
but now-
you are motionless.
How can I...?
Reply to my perceptions.
I shall be coming to you!
Wait!
The love doesn't end.
Absence is there;
For short, for long.
love your heart-beat,
love your thoughts,
love is love-
love shall love;
the love you lived,
the love we cherished,
will live-
with love.
I shall be coming to you,
with the flow.
And we'll explain-
with the exuberance.
Bed Prakash Bhatta
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7.
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For The Loneliness
There's one remedy,
If one tries to grab the solitude-
I approach to Antarctic,
Seals disturb me.
The strugle for own's existence,
vividly appears-
Blood spreads among the bondings,
So common are the incidents.
The pack hunts down,
scream spills in the air-
Union is the sense of intimacy,
these exhibit the courage.
Antarctic can't be lonely,
In search of eternal solitude-
I grab my index,
And there lies the space.
Might be a good reason,
To touch the sevens-
Is high for the rest,
I shall lower it.
Cross-bars of strength,
Are there in space-
They peep out our works,
We are just the viewee.
I can just remain still,
Watching them watch us-
Watch us in our works,
Position our sound as well.
Being alive,
Being social-
One wouldn't grab the solitude,
The one I wanted.
It's true,
Nature teases the being-
In sounds,
In flames.
I seek the solitude,
which is lonely within-
The morphology,
And the mentality.
Bed Prakash Bhatta
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8.
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From The Sepals...
Happy and well,
one life of this earth.
Pronounced the guts-
from the very birth.
Why is she quiet now?
Her questions,
her individualism.
Theories of her nuptial knots-
with the pharaohs of the present times.
Where has her philtre for alterations gone?
Bore she the stoicism;
from grand ones to the precessives.
Can a squeezed throat;
utter the words-
of bliss;
and the certitude.
slapped,
being a juvenile.
Juvenile-
as she has broken the norms.
Norms of retrospects,
norms of blindness.
The norms-
which restricted the pleasure and freedom.
She,
unveiled the veil.
She-
sought for the open-ness.
She,
searched the bone-fire;
amidst the extremism-
amidst the gurus.
Exiled,
for the relief.
Mixed is the splitted;
of a girl of Hinduism and Islam.
Storms
in the silent ship-
couldn't break the deck;
nor the sailor took the turning.
Bed Prakash Bhatta
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