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Khachab Dorji Poem
He was reclining cold and motionless
Silence reigned as it signalled a torment
I prostrated and remained quiet, wordless
My mother's elegy evoked lament.
As the days passed, he started deforming
Lifeless body lay hardened but mounted,
To the neighbours gathered, went informing
Of the subtlety of very life, bewitched.
Kinsfolk followed you till crematorium
With prayers of praise in warm condolence
Soul shall find solace with honorarium
Through your religious deeds in governance
As the bodily disappearance calls,
Just flash of fiery ignition that brawls.
©?????Khachab Dorji????
Copyright © Khachab Dorji | Year Posted 2021
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Khachab Dorji Poem
Born in giftedness of innate purview,
Tending him like tender scion, is vital.
Send him to play, work isn't his battle.
Never let school, for him, be accidental,
Ergo, let's earn his souvenir from this review.
Copyright © Khachab Dorji | Year Posted 2021
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Khachab Dorji Poem
I reminisce the day we first met
You halted with an enchanting smile,
You allured me to hug you for a debt
I reminisce the day we first met
The blush in red added beauty in set
My heart throbbed into yours, so agile
I reminisce the day we first met
You halted with an enchanting smile.
You allured me to hug you for a debt
I reminisce the day we first met
The blush in red added beauty in set
My heart throbbed into yours, so agile
You halted with an enchanting smile
That could melt any hearts in a while.
Copyright © Khachab Dorji | Year Posted 2021
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Khachab Dorji Poem
The God has gifted in shower
With intensed innocence in you.
I behold you in awed silence,
For you promise ecstasy in me.
I connect my forehead on yours
In thanking the God for gifting you.
Moreso, it connects our sublime hearts,
Building the subtle bond unbreakable.
I trust you dear, in completeness,
And mumble prayers for you, sincerely.
God in me shall keep beaconing you,
In guiding and crafting you.
The statue in you shall I sculpt
Into the perfect form, refining you,
For you are the confidence and the truth
Must lay hands for better humanity.
For the God gifted you, my dear, to me,
This is the gift that I give you with all my heart.
30/06/2021 Mystic Rose Rose The Gift That I Give You Poetry Contest
Copyright © Khachab Dorji | Year Posted 2021
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Khachab Dorji Poem
The most awaited result got publicized, but
Internet hadn't landed the soil of my country.
Televisions were tabled in few pocketed places,
Still they worked, minute and achromatic.
With huge audience circling, signal was word alien,
Viewers would holler in unison, "It's raining!"
I now understand the fluctuation of signal,
We'd leave the jammed hall. No rain outside!
Correspondences saw only lethargic typewriters,
That sounded a poll pecking of a woodpecker.
A single wireless station would be queued
With people waiting for, "Pom, pom, Tango, Charlie."
Communication gravely sought its transmission,
Three-band radio justified on its little way,
Only richer lots bought and owned pompously
And my country had a single frequency squeezed.
The announcement was radioed in a succinct brief-
"The result of 1997 ICSE examination is out."
Nothing more or less, of the India-based examination,
I jumped on my toes only to later feel crushed.
My kiths were dejected with my abortive result,
An unofficial hearsay, they caught hold onto
Their dejection pierced my heart, agonizingly.
I'd to visit my alma mater, result matted least.
A two-day-long journey, not by a luxurious car
But on the hood of a truck on a bumpy roads,
Only the Indian highway would ease the journey
Like relieving the physical pangs of exhaustion.
The mental turmoil intensified as I neared
My school where the sheets would be displayed,
The wall would announce to a hundred lot of us,
The failure provoked sleepless nights and journeys.
My heart thudded as I entered the school premise,
Lips dried, even a pool of water wouldn't wet them.
Shivering, perplexity and numbness, crippled me,
I just wanted me alone to declare the performance.
I walked up the staircase with thundering emotion,
The entrance seemed gloomily unwelcoming,
Saw I a crowd of my mates craning and giraffing,
On the either sides of the entrance, sheets full.
No greetings, no handshaking, I just shied away,
Waited for the crowd to go thinly populated.
Just in one particular column to refer, wanted I,
PCA or PCNA - biggest summary of a year's toiling.
My comrades filed out slowly, forward I lunged,
Searching my name, throbbing took its tempo.
Spotted the name, from the wall, PCA grinned,
Pass Certificate Awarded, I became triumphant!
©?Khachab Dorji
Copyright © Khachab Dorji | Year Posted 2021
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Khachab Dorji Poem
The Rusticity
Greeted by a cool morning breeze,
I'm unfolded to a place so serene
With a scented fragrance around, and
The vastness of blue canopy so exalting
Pleasing chirping and twittering
Replace the maddening modern melody
Patterned dew peeks at me with smile
Emanating fragrant air, just right.
The glorified sun creeps in majestically
Summoning me in whisper, to my daily toils
My spontaneous whistling attunes the oxen
Pulling the plough to furrow, energetically.
As the sun farewells through mountains yonder,
The birds nestle home gaily, tweeting
With the evening breeze sweeping my brow,
I gladly retreat to my straw hut, satisfied.
The night crawls in with its greatest gift
Brilliance, the stars canopy my world
As I lay on the porch, I mumble gratification
To my king and country - Bhutan for this peace.
Copyright © Khachab Dorji | Year Posted 2021
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Khachab Dorji Poem
You are born with a purpose to serve,
Render service from your heart, in totality
Age would fail to guide you, miserably
If you don't display versatility with time.
Education shall prove a big redundancy
If you don't sail along the current of modernity.
Contemplate not on destroying others
With coercively authoritative complex.ity.
Humanity seeks your iota of attention,
Lay hands with a wee act to garner merits.
Life would becomes a humongous waste
If you cling on to your a venomous intention.
Spirituality is only a way to liberation
Of self and beyond, practice when you've energy.
Selflessness is the language of spiritualism,
Give yourself away taming your thoughts and action.s.
©?Khachab Dorji
Copyright © Khachab Dorji | Year Posted 2021
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Khachab Dorji Poem
Hating isn't for whole of my life,
Yet in here, I have to create a strife.
We shall wait till the poem, I finish
Then I'll embrace thee going swinish.
Grant me now, I'll pretend,
My hatred will blow to an end.
Ever since the time we met,
My loathing grew strong, I bet.
Don't advance near me, ever
The glare I bear here will lever,
That will throw thee to a distant,
Never to be, anyway persistent.
Farther away shall thee go
As I yell with a wrinkled brow,
Yet my heart shall cry in fear
Lest we lose the closeness, so clear.
I am almost getting over
Come nearer, let's see the changeover
I am a Q whose life will be vainly dark
If I am alone like in a lone park.
Copyright © Khachab Dorji | Year Posted 2021
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Khachab Dorji Poem
There is something I like to reveal to you,
To mesmerize and put you in awed brew.
Follow me to merry spring of adorned nature,
The dancing hues in red and gold rapture.
Come along! I usher you to Olympic festivity,
I make you contest in sprint, you win the activity.
On the platform, a person awards you a wreath,
Around your neck, happiness becomes your breath.
Let me escort you to the shrine for winning
To honour your win and to secure future shining.
You present this, wrapped in, something beautiful
Before the promising statue, prayers bountiful.
Now, let's ponder what we'd done all through?
Flowers were those, dancing merrily in hue,
The wreath on your neck was flowers in collection,
The bouquet to God was flower in presentation.
Copyright © Khachab Dorji | Year Posted 2021
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Details |
Khachab Dorji Poem
The most awaited result got announced, but
Internet hadn't landed the soil of my country then.
Televisions were tabled in few pocketed places,
Still they worked, minute and achromatic.
With huge audience circled, signal was word alien,
Viewers would holler in unison, "It's raining!"
I now understand the fluctuation of signal,
We'd leave the jammed hall. No rain outside!
Correspondences saw only typewriters,
That sounded a poll pecking by a woodpecker.
A single wireless station would be queued
With people waiting for, "Pom, pom, Tango, Charlie."
Communication gravely sought for transmission,
Three-band radio justified on its little way,
Only richer lots bought and owned pompously
And my country had a single frequency squeezed.
The announcement was radioed in a succinct brief-
"The result of ICSE examination, 1997 is out."
No more, no less, of the India-based examination,
I jumped on my toes only to feel crushed later.
My kiths were dejected with my abortive result,
From somewhere, a hearsay they heard, not an official.
Their dejection pierced my heart, agonizingly.
I'd have to visit my alma mater, whatever was the result.
A two-day-long journey, not by luxurious car
But on the hood of a truck on a bumpy roads,
Only the Indian highway would ease the journey
Like relieving the physical pangs of exhaustion.
The mental turmoil intensified as I neared
My school where the sheets would be displayed,
The wall would announce to a hundred lot of us.
The failure provoked sleepless nights and journey.
My heart thudded as I entered the school premise,
Lips dried, even a pool of water wouldn't wet them.
Shivering, perplexity and numbness, crippled me,
I just wanted me alone to declare the performance.
I walked up the staircase with thundering emotion,
The entrance seemed gloomily unwelcoming,
Saw I a crowd of my mates craning and giraffing,
On the either sides of the entrance were sheets full.
No greetings, no handshaking, I just shied away,
Waited for the crowd to be thinly populated.
Just in one particular column to refer, wanted I,
PCA or PCNA - the biggest summary of a year's toiling.
My comrades filed out slowly, forward I lunged,
Searching my name, throbbing took its tempo.
Found the name, from the wall, PCA grinned, gleefully,
Pass Certificate Awarded. So, it decided this fate of mine.
©?????Khachab Dorji????
Copyright © Khachab Dorji | Year Posted 2021
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