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Best Poems From
BED PRAKASH BHATTA
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5.
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ALL IN A NIGHT...
Death, has the passerby, love his moments-
But they aren't for long.
Wealth, jewels and his all garments-
For one day, they'll all be gone.
Beneath his bed, lies a pocket radio, and that is small-
But he wouldn't be able to hear it.
As the mightiest forwarded a call,
The body can't even wait a bit.
Beside his body, no one lies; for he has no belongings-
But he would face the situation.
He didn't earn friendship from his spendings-
And now no one cares for his cremation.
In the wall, is hung, the picture of Monalisa; quiet, smiling.
But he would make no smile.
For his life has been piled up; is now piling,
And for now, he has to make a bitter exile.
Laughed, along the sea; the tides went along-
But he drew out the tears.
The mighty's bliss with the painful song,
As for death, who now fears.
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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