Details |
Hem Raj Bastola Poem
Peeping to the sky:
Beating wings of twilight
Leading home, the birds
Horizon, engulf the ember Sun.
Invitation of the dying day
Give rise to a tranquil bay.
Putting me in the battle
Of: need and happiness.
Every viewpoint
From the hot iron pan
Searching those mountains
Of a distant homeland
Cool breeze along with
Perfumes of spring woods
Memories of myrtles
Holding back to hear:
Cooing, Cuckoos.
Copyright © Hem Raj Bastola | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Hem Raj Bastola Poem
Mutant of human,
Whose view-less wings
Took him so high,that envisioned life
In whose, voice bird speaks:
What I was, not me today.
Serving to his hunger
Losing myself, to make him alive.
Wand I use of a witch,
Mind into a river switch.
Far out in the sky,
Entangled in solitude,
Lunacy,where, my ore smelt.
That now is a wild stream:
Roaring from the mountain
Flooding in its dry bed,
Desert where, my glacier
Smile of the sun engulf.
To sustain a life,
For no grains I find here
So I entreat you to dislocated
Wings to put back into human
To protect, from being
To be: a Dodo.
Copyright © Hem Raj Bastola | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Hem Raj Bastola Poem
On my palm, as I keep to rest my chin
Injured heart among the city din,
Healthy spirit to live it search
Days are so dark, for there is no torch.
Sand I am baked, in the desert brown,
Unfamiliar is the place, insipid is the town.
Absence of its candid human clay
In the strange city, I am alone today.
Modern life is in such a mess,
It is too fake that we wear is a human dress.
Did we think, neighbor next door, is unknown
Such has been the condition grown.
Where growing mind in love with matter
Did we not our spiritual connection shatter?
Absence of its candid human clay
In the strange city, I am alone today.
Easy life, where the world is advance
For the peace of mind give not any chance
Oh! Breeding strangers, what land it is?
Or we forget our spirit to ease.
Absence of its candid human clay
In the strange city, I am alone today.
Copyright © Hem Raj Bastola | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Hem Raj Bastola Poem
Before the dawn
Listening unfamiliar talk
Through the buildings opposite
Following the cluster of temples,
Feelings on my thought mixing-
Morning Prayer gong in peace: the bell.
Living wood on a dying fire ask
Did we know the truth of us?
Emitting rays of east,
Radiance on a river reflect
As I reach to the bank.
Early morning,
Ongoing cremation
And activities around
Put forth in contrast a life.
Where degrees of emotion along,
Knowledge of life enlightened
Observing transformation
Into universal elements
Flesh, that adjoins.
Copyright © Hem Raj Bastola | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Hem Raj Bastola Poem
Planted seedlings
During the observation grave,
Premonitions of the day
In the field of mind
Planted crops of thought,
Deep into the night
To transcend the hunger aesthetic
Recollected to harvest
In solitude.
In rhythm they dance
The dates with Arabian wind
To and fro the trunks
Steadfast the pitch
Rise and fall the beat
Consolation to exist
In the journey of the mercury
Temperatures of life.
Copyright © Hem Raj Bastola | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Hem Raj Bastola Poem
Far-off
I hear echoing
Approaching my ear
The wind- transporting
Frequency of the air
Ripples on a lake
Gently disperse.
In a quiet and stagnant
Water surface-
Jumping fish,
Broken silence
Twilight that lead;
Rowing oar- a boat
Fisherman returns
The day is done
Her eyes are waiting
His weary way
For: the dinner.
Copyright © Hem Raj Bastola | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Hem Raj Bastola Poem
Derision of her
Ageing health
Putting us on threat
Devout greed breeding
We forget to listen.
Her chronic wound,
She bleeds in timber,
Pleads with fume, industrial
Instead to nurse her
Day by day our torture
Digging: her grave.
Vanishing water sheds,
Oh! Leading nations
It’s time to think:
Money can not pay back
The carbon we emit.
Think of the future we live for,
When, will we think?
Her cry is our cry,
Her pain is our pain
Try not to smear asphalt
Into the green face,
Of: our mother earth.
Copyright © Hem Raj Bastola | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Hem Raj Bastola Poem
Either streets of Ashon,
Or the crowd of Indrachowk
Trying to find myself,
Awaking from the dream,
Have I forgotten the way?
Unable, to find myself,
Wandering in multitude
In search of a distant world
Isolated, story of a dream.
Forget not, to inform:
I am lost today.
My country do not search
Who is lost here?
Police do not search, here,
What is happening, where?
Looking forward, I
Don’t know where I am heading?
Ah! like a missing wayfarer
Whether in pages
Or I lost in imagination.
Forget not, to inform:
I am lost today.
None of them ask
The road I walk
In curiosity happen to ask
Where does this leads?
Sad I see them to answer,
Squeezing into a ball the face
Some says it’s limitless
Other says explore your interest
Night is heading to the sun
Hamlet in dilemma lost.
Forget not, to inform:
I am lost today.
Try not to forget
Soil of the earth is same
Even I am stepping on
How else can I turn familiar?
With unfamiliar world in return
I am lost where I am
Becoming the bird of sky
Neither any place to nestle
Nor to return, back the way.
Forget not, to inform:
I am lost today.
Copyright © Hem Raj Bastola | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Hem Raj Bastola Poem
Powerful loneliness,
In the crowded street,
Desperate speed took.
Secluded, inside, I am left.
What solvent, you give me, Oh! Art,
Fickle mind of a sincere thought,
Corroding, inside me flow:
The heart of an outcast.
Surrounded by silence,
I weep for their human
Which is absent in need.
None from the crowd,
Give not any heart to console
For the child, who is crying.
When, a pause in me,
For a thought was over,
The cry being fainter
Ring into my ear.
Series of questions behind,
Left to be answered.
Copyright © Hem Raj Bastola | Year Posted 2013
|