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Best Poems From
BED PRAKASH BHATTA
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9.
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Ginger, Garlic And The Children
Beautiful are some-
with love.
with care.
with support.
with wealth.
with health.
with education.
with devotion.
with affection.
with perception.
Many knock the doors,
of the God.
Have the talks with the grandma,
lighting the matchsticks to see the haven.
Had not the girl,
faced the cold.
Had not the poor-ism,
prevailed at such a fold.
Had not the wishes,
met the floor.
Had not the drearies,
touched the shore.
A cry,
a cut-
a plea;
an urge.
Dark eyes seek the wideness,
to enrich the vision-
to have the perfectionism,
to build the momentum.
As the rickshaw driver,
'Won't thank us for the dollar, '
No being at the survival,
would ammend the provision of brawler.
Exchanged,
changed is the change.
Hundred for the seventy,
being the stuff strangely strange.
Need why the chopping,
if the nearby plays the violin-
and you don't;
cause you haven't got the money.
Night,
why it comes-
is it to increase the sorrow;
or for the renaissance.
Lying,
on the grounds of the court-
of nature;
of the near ones.
Why is there the division,
why is there the filth-
why is there the trouble;
why is there the guilt?
In the early morning,
when eyes are wide open;
why doesn't the softness sub-due -
why doesn't the dew startle?
As for such,
a world is to be renewed-
Where restrictions would fly freely;
where songs would be perpetuated.
Cheeks would never,
feel the lacrymals'.
That would be the identity,
of the eternal happiness.
Deceived are some-
from love.
from care.
from support.
from wealth.
from health.
from education.
from devotion.
from affection.
from perception.
In the grounds of reality,
deceits are to be made!
Handledwith the utmost-
future is to cared.
A child,
runs with the 'clap-pi-laries' -
Not,
with the capillaries.
Bed Prakash Bhatta
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10.
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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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11.
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Love And The Wind
Looking through the glass pane,
I saw you.
Sharing your lips with a guy,
Who stood firm in the deeds.
I did admire it,
really.
Really you did a great job,
Do accept my wishes.
Some day,
you embraced with your utmost.
Some day,
you hated the sturdy boast.
Some day,
you found love in me.
Some day,
we made the decree.
Some day,
you held my hands.
Some day,
we exchanged the thanks.
Now,
I found you.
I found you-
I found your heart.
Share your body as well,
Then-
I will congratulate you.
I'll love you to the fullest.
You know,
hurricane does destroy living.
It can shake the blood-
but this determination is unshakeable.
Few days ago,
you knew your companion.
Few days ago,
you threw your heart.
I congratualte you,
not coldly.
See the warmth in my words,
Yeah dear- I congratulate you.
Let the minds roll,
Let the time crawl.
Let the life run-
Let not your fun drown.
I won't feel guilt,
because there's no matter of satisfaction.
Won't I feel the guilt,
as you dwindled in your devotion.
You made a thrill,
you had the 'bull's eye.'
You fixed the arrow-
you did kill the innocence.
Wash your face,
Rinse your brain.
Find what are you here for,
Find what you desire for.
Greatness of you,
greatness of your act.
I thought that was just a rain,
I didn't realise the wind along.
Wind;
blow away the love.
Blow to the land-
where hatred and betray never prevail.
Wind-
blow away on your own...
Bed Prakash Bhatta
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12.
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Relation of a lifetime
We walked the dusty roads
we crossed the mountains
we made love
in the beautiful fountains.
We watched the moon
we touched the sun
we uncovered joy
we swam in fun.
We were never angry
we spoke true words
we promised that
we'll be love birds.
We knew our love
we cherished every moment
we received blessings
we respected our sentiments.
Bed Prakash Bhatta
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