Poem | |
NEPAL FrOm My heart
FRom the peace and progress,
Of life and humanity
to say we our pride and honour,
to respect the country and
make the country reputed and feel
like that we are one , the Nepalese
to every obstacles and challanges to face,
and We Brave Gorkhalis never bend our head
to any unless they dont go,
We, Nepali To feel every second on the earth to become a
shining country, the Only one in the hearts of the every Nepalese,
NEPAL! NEPAL! NEPAL! NEPAL! Believe me
By Diwash Sharma
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Poem | |
In streets, roads, louding with a loud voice for living
waiting for someone to give money by throwing
is this the life the god gave
if they became beggar why couldn't I
Nothing matters how wealthy or poor i am
just fascinated with the beggar's slam
so much sad and stressful moment i dont' like to see
their children can't go to school because they have no money to give fee
AMerica, Britain, New York, Nepal Spain, GErmany, India, Etc
From which part are you it doesn't matters
it matters how much respect do you give to beggar
don't laugh at them
Don't know if the day come to us to be a beggar..... DIwASH SHARMA NEPALESE
Poem | |
I wish I had time for poetry and plays
My mind allowed
As I watched the same aged, bespectacled monk
For about the fifteenth time this month
Patter his bare feet
Upon the pavement
Of the dust filled lane.
Leaving me again
Broken shards of yesterday
In a faraway land that reminds me of
Secret Pacts made
In the time when
Getting too busy was never an option.
These the promises
Made in Nepalese skies
below the Lost Horizon
Of the Dalai Lama
I could not see
The coming years that would
Like over ripe plums.
Nor the red Lama
Perched on an Annapurnan cliff
Red ribbon round my
Wrist and soul.
There they lay.
Meditations that never were,
Given by Siddhartha, Confucius and, even a carpenter, from
The Middle East.
They have even appeared
In soiled books,
Ashrams on the Ganges,
Scribbled on bar room napkins and
Where are these ruminations now
As the pages stick
Like books rarely read
In a villages unseen
By streams only heard
When all I want
Is a little respite
From the traffic
Next to the lane
That is just beside my patio
Where that same monk will
Rise up early,
Don a saffron-gold robe and greet dawn
Both eyes smiling?
2006 (Chiang Mai, Thailand)
Poem | |
Yellow leaves fall
Harsh humid heat;
Earth gathers debris
Time runs away
Space now bereft;
A change of heart
Nothing much here;
Going away present
Odd couple here
East meets West;
Old lady sells
Sidewalk news sermon
Humid hot day
Fiery sun bombards;
SPF29 still tans
Morning crystal ball
Wrinkles and grey hair
So many deaths
Sense deep loss
Hard times overwhelm
Tears and pain
Heavy hearts mourn;
News highlights tell
A red sun burns;
Rain dilutes blaze
Young lady walks
Shoes on canine feet
Just fancy that:
Bad reviews bitch;
Cottony seeds fly;
17 May 2015
Poem | |
As the bus rode
through the molting pine forest and
the crumbling ochre rock formations;
bits of colorful cellophane litter brought the only relief to the eye.
Inside, behind a profusion of people,
boxes, backpacks and assorted baggage
The bus creaked, shook and groaned
its way down the serpentine,
asphalt, mountain track.
Passengers chattered away in Indian, Nepalese, Danish and English,
a Universal discourse;
As the vehicle draped from roof to bumper,
careened from rock walls
to sheer ledges, beeping.
Stray pets and wayward cyclist dodged its downward flight
Into the valleys maw.
More great poems below...
Poem | |
Poet's Pre-Notes: A poem from my 8th week in a Stanford continuing education class offered on the internet, a study of free verse and structure. The poem writing technique is to write as unconsciously as you can for 5 minutes, then after an hour or so to attempt to pull material of interest from what you have written to compose a free verse poem. What follows immediately is my source material for the poem that follows below it. I hope you will enjoy both.
A harvest moon like a pumpkin with a somewhat lewd, lascivious grin, an orange life jacket floating in perfectly clear inescapably blue water (even in this orange colored poem), a buoyant orange bikinied girl floating free in orange flowered blue cap, hair of in-determinant color, unencumbered by life jacket or much else, colored coral with traces of yellow and red (orange in the making), firmly fixed and shining not so far beneath her, framed by the bleached canvas of ancestral remains, with the almost invisible fish that like to hide in their branches, anti-green coral leaves that mock photosynthesis, sway in their oceanic groves like wind-tickled wheat, softly glowing with the light of a sinking sun.
Orange you glad you are here with me, fruit scented suntan lotion blocking harmful rays as we sip our still bubbling mimosas and taste each other’s colored kisses, orange between our toes as we dangle feet from our floating sanctuary in the tropical water, nibbled on by tiny fish hoping perhaps to steal our genetic code for a future lifetime, blinded by the incredible orange flash of a light drizzle’s rainbow as we orange our way as softly as marmalade jellyfish toward an approaching quilt of dusk-colored fog, orange as the meteor that sparks star ash one last time against the nearly empty sky above as night finally falls as well, leaving only the harvest moon to watch the emotional tides rise and fall within us.
Softly Off-Colored Poem - 2
Orange-Aid for Nepalese earthquake survivors, America rocks
Homeless people around the globe.
Orange rafts with paddles pop open loaded with victims of a forced water landing,
Like bags of hot spice seasoned potato chips.
Half-naked islanders wearing orange lays
Weave their canoes through schools of rainbow colored fish
To welcome tourists to island hot tubs
Chockfull of tubers, carrots and onions
Sure to soften skin.
No American in island colored shirt will be rejected.
Orange ancient customs so interesting?
Orange papaya orchards mark more populated, less primitive isles,
Close to where a stand of beach grown resorts flourishes..
A buoyant, orange bikinied girl floats free of care,
Unencumbered by life jacket or much else
In perfectly clear inescapable blue waters
(Even in this orange colored poem).
Wearing blue cap with orange flowers, hair color indeterminate,
She is a visual feast to some, to others simply delicious,
What some islanders would call snack food, ready to eat,
Almost no peeling necessary.
Orange colored coral glows from not so far beneath her,
Yellow and red (orange in the making) firmly fixed,
Framed by the bleached canvas of ancestral remains.
Camouflaged fish blend perfectly with the
Anti-green coral leaves that mock photosynthesis,
Leaves that sway in their oceanic groves like wind-tickled wheat
Passively reflecting the light of a sinking sun.
Orange you glad that you are here with me?
Fruit scented suntan oil blocks harmful rays
As we sip our still bubbling mimosas
And taste each other’s intoxicating kisses
Reflected orange shines between our toes too as feet dangle
From our floating sanctuary in warmly tropical water,
Nibbled on by tiny fish cannibalizing
Our genetic code for some future lifetime.
Now we are blinded by the incredible orange flash
Of a light drizzle’s rainbow….
We orange our way as softly as marmalade jellyfish
Toward an approaching quilt
Of dusk-colored fog.
Orange as the twilight meteor that sparks star ash one last time,
A colored contrail against the nearly empty sky above
As night too falls,
Leaving only a pumpkin faced harvest moon
With a lewd, lascivious grin and tea stained teeth
To watch phosphorescent tides come and go
In our passionate cove.
May 9, 2015
Poem | |
Crying , crying , endless sobbing
A miracle of life...witnessed
Hushed amongst the rubble
Dust devils dance and taunt
A grey dusty shape ...stares
Then cries the beautiful sound
pulled from Nepalese rubble
A baby greets her life... anew
This miracle welcomed, amidst
Crying,crying, endless sobbing
Poem | |
Stray songs invite;
Words and lyrics
Basket of moods;
Plucks my heart strings;
Dawn brings magic
Rain wets window;
Meal takeaway chit-chat;
Weather and prices
Lunch time treats;
Dolls on stilettos;
Vivid charades fix;
News headlines blast
Earthquake tremors again;
Nepalese pain grips
Sighing old woman
Complains to herself;
Smiles in somnolence;
Be beyond blur
Sound escape plan
New food court here
Up market ambience;
Two grownup kids meet
Happy couple cheers;
Sanguine guests feast
Yoda in green
True to life;
Star Wars philosophy
"Do or do not,
There is no try."
The Force runs away
Sing to the dawn
Be happy now;
Tomorrow can wait
My darling calls
Blurry steps slide
New light flings;
27 May 2015