I Want To Plant a Seed of Poesy

I Want to Plant a Seed of Poesy By Purushottam Dhakal I want to write a poem Every time As people happen to die at road side For lack of filling the stomach. People are compelled to live a life As they cannot buy poisons to drink. I see them living a life like the things: In search for shelter And food to gratify the hunger, He climbs on a cross for revolt. I want to utter poesy At every junction, At the boarder imprisoning the voice of the truth, And in the countries where the lies reaches the seat of the rule, Halting knowledge from the path of reason, As the gallows check the voice of people. I want to recite poesy At the palace of power, glittering colourful, In a country lost within itself. And I want to read poesy In a country lost within itself lying beyond the Himalayas, At the boarders of the those suppressing voice. Yes, I wish to cry out a poem In the lane where my village princesses get sold out, In the labor market where village princes are stabbed, In the cities seen at the arrival of the Spring Where my people wash themselves with blood. O, Rulers! Listen to my poesy. I want to cry out the heart of it. I feel restless at the news: In the last winter, The children hit serious with pneumonia Could not buy even paracetamol For their complete youth And I rise to shout slogan against Your socialism, your democracy. The myriads of children Dead with your weapons, friends And poisonous gas. And the Lord watching on it. Is this your justice? Putting fire on the paper of my own poesy, I want to burn into ashes your heavenly rule, alive. Fie on you talking about righteousness: Like an animal, You set out to rape in a gang Wrapping her in a burka. My Lord, if you really exist, I will ask you, a hard slap on your cheek, “When do you get some time from wandering at the palaces To look at the sulphurous killing fields? When will you reach there? Or are you the phantoms of rulers? Just like the revolt in the poesy recited here now.” Yes, I want a seed of poesy to plant, I want to sing the crop of revolt, removing weeds from the hearts Even in my absence, it will grow into a tree: I know the truth will win that day. As my mind plants seed of poesy At the sight of the dark and the unjust in the world, A day will come When they will sing my poem together And the Lord of phantom wandering only at the palaces Will get to know: There’s only one race of humans And both devas and demon are one In human. With love, 2nd January, 2018