I Spread all My Colors in Wholeness

featured in the poetry forum January 20, 2017  :: 0 comments

I spread all my colors in wholeness,
As I am the horizon of a new rainbow,
My colors cover for perfection,
With the seeds of silence and compassion,
And it even travels above the dreary desert,
To create the Oasis,
For all but not for the egocentric ones,
My rainbow is stationary over helpless ones,
It desires to be an affable kin to them,
Neither does it have any colors anymore for slaughterers,
Nor mercy for any suppressors.
My colors share integrity and pride,
With the symbol of independence!
This produces my own identity in the new sphere,
That reputes a new transparency around,
Hoping to depict newness and a fair settlement,
So it travels through the universe,
In search of equality and sacredness,
And my rainbow stands for truth,
It holds the elixir for all emblems of pain and suffering!

editors note:

Encouraging verses on a day which, for many, is black and gray. More rainbows, please! – mh clay

A Spark of Time

featured in the poetry forum October 16, 2015  :: 1 comment

Time is going on its own course,
I also have been chasing it
for a long time.

My voyage has been longer than my expectation,
I witness the features of life happily.
Ups and downs! Ups and downs!

Day goes into dark, I foresee for a new day,
Wow, a new day, a new moment, a new time!
It comes again,
I like to chase it, I like to go with it,

One after another, I have got a new horizon,
My horizontal expectation is merely matched to other,
I see the rings in the sky,
The rings of colors,
I attempt to keep them,
I keep on standing,
I keep on praising!

Again the gigantic time stands at my front,
It bangs me while crossing by it,
I smile and attempt through it,
It is nothing for me and for my voyage,
As I know the thrones of time poke me,
I feel pleasure with such pokes!

I change the route, the route of mixed phenomena,
I can’t stand on mixture,
As I have different identity,
I’m an identity of madness,
I’m the identity of poverty,
I can’t stand on abundance of wealth,
As I have to see the struggle of the voiceless,
So, my path is different.

So, my time is different!

I see the path of white drop converting into the blue mass,
The huge mass, the masses of madness!
I envision to escort with madness,
To have change,
To have justice,
To have equality,
To have humanity!

So I keep on standing…..
I keep on moving…….
I keep on struggling,
Oh, god! Let me further go into madness,

To get a spark of time!

editors note:

Our Nepalese brother goes through the gamut to gain a little more madness and a spark. Yes! – mh clay

MY SOUL

featured in the poetry forum June 17, 2015  :: 4 comments

My soul would be a rock,
It wouldn’t give me a throbbing pain,
And I wouldn’t shed tears,
As the mother who lost her warrior son in a snare,
It wouldn’t feel the reflective ache of raped girl,
Nor it would get the twinge of bereaved persons
Who lost their kith in the war!

My eyes would be sightless,
I wouldn’t see the injustice,
I wouldn’t see the torture of the weak,
Nor I would glare at the imbalance of power of people,
I think I would feel the sameness,
In the stride of my voyage,

My ears would be deaf,
I wouldn’t hear the story of pain,
Nor I would be listening to explosions
On women and children,

My soul would be white snow.
I would be a glacier
and stay at the peak tops,
Where explorers would make an account of greatness,
I would be cleansing the filth,
From the acme to the chasm,
The world would be anew
with unique hotness and coldness.

My soul would be an ocean,
I would play with the Blue Whale,
I would bring a different Tsunami,
I would take off the prejudice under me,
That never would come up again!

My ear would be the Black Hole,
I would have all the dirty games assassinated.
The world would be an Eden,
Let my soul be the Black Hole,
Let my soul be an ocean!

editors note:

Yes! Rock my soul in this bosom; bring a new “hotness and coldness” to this world. – mh clay

Tearful Life

featured in the poetry forum December 7, 2014  :: 0 comments

Standing out-and-out,
She looks around with a hopeful sight,
Uncaring for her kids around,
But caring for the passerby,
She hopes to get a coin,
Into her grounded silver bowl,
Muddy site full of monkeys’ shrieks,
She turns to a baby, who cries for her breast,
Still some coins are yet to be dropped in,
She tends to cover an inadvertent uncovered modesty,
Alas! She gets stillness upon her brood,
With emptied bellies for uncounted days,
A monkey drops a banana skin from a tree,
She picks it up and squeezes,
Hoping to get its juice into the mouth of babies,
Now the weather changes,
She also gets threatened by it,
Drizzle turns out to be stormy,
Clutching her idle babies,
She shelters under a tree,
Unjust…unjust, her rags are taken off.
Oh God! You materialize for tearful life, you do, do you?
Hoping…praying…pleading,
She beholds her bowl in the same abyss.

editors note:

Some see life from abundance, others from lack. What’s in your bowl? – mh

Substances Come Together

featured in the poetry forum April 26, 2014  :: 0 comments

With shrinking orifice,
She smiles.
She never thinks what’ll be next,
But her calm bosom vibrates,
Waves and waves dash themselves,
She stands and spills,
But she’s happy and sad at a time,
And she’s sliding,
She brings inundation,
She carries away all of her adjoining together,
And she is engorged much,

So she’s enraged now.
With a loud crash,
She falls over an unmoved world,
And she makes all of us fall there,
Substances fall for fission,
A beautiful nature is disfigured.
Alas! The remaining ones are no ones.
And she’s unidentified.
And she again acts for fusion.
Substances come together!

editors note:

An atom-split heart leaves no one at all, whereas fusion burns love eternal. – mh

Fetus Dew On Arum’s Leaf

featured in the poetry forum November 8, 2012  :: 0 comments

In a calm night you fall down,
And down and down,
On me, where you feel reconciliation,
What a peace you bring to me!
My veins enrich with bed of sea,
My face brightens as canopy of moon,
I feel my chips are dancing,
The free lives dive together in the pool!
I connect to my reminiscence,
You inspire me and heal for it,
And I recall my struggle,
This propagates my principal thought of life,
I gaze at you and you grin for me,
And you again spark miracle in my sense,
And I get enlightenment.
My soul springs up,
Upper and upper,
To the cosmos where it dodges in heaven,
But suddenly you renounce my warm rapport,
Then I fall down as you do on me.
My universe collapses, yours too.
My holiness vanishes, yours too.
Scorching beast suckles my beauty, yours too.
Come on and live together ever!

editors note:

Down and down, up and upper; all points are occupied at one time or another – when you’re together. – mh

I Was Lost Myself

featured in the poetry forum June 2, 2012  :: 0 comments

You don’t know my beloved,
Many years before I was a flash,
Both of my legs were impaired,
I was gone in search of medication,
I was treated,
But concurrently the sanatorium was blasted,
I gained my substantial steps but I lost my arms then,
I used to write about the rights of the human beings,
But I became powerless to hold the pen of integrity,
Thanks to my cherished, I still had my appendage,
You know, where I didn’t visit,
I remember‘d the preacher of peace,
I’d gone to my lord,
But a felon was found as HIM,
He again broke my legs,
I’d been halted,
But the breeze blew me up to ACME,
The snow also didn’t like me there,
The avalanches had thrown me down,
I was flowing down and down,
I found oceanic substructure,
But I didn’t know myself there,
A Tsunami perhaps pushed me up,
It threw me to its reservoir on the sand,
I was lying there as a log,
I didn’t know when I got APHASIA,
I WAS LOST MYSELF!
My dear, I lost my brain perhaps,
I didn’t know how long I hid at that stage.
I was appallingly damaged,
My lungs and heart didn’t be neighbors to each other,
Perhaps my palms were carrying them on each,
If I remembered, a cardiologist would treat me.
I was perhaps in pathology,
I heard the hurricane, playing my guitar,
The music of PEACE,
The effect of music,
Slowly enriched my existence again,
I started to feel better and better,
I opened my eyes,
Oh, great, PEACE returned at my heart,
My limbs are now repaired,
My arms are now fit and fine,

My sagacity returns to me,
Thank God, APHASIA leaves ME,
Now I find you, my dear,
I’ll never miss you again!
Oh PEACE, you ever remain with me!

editors note:

A mad odyssey, a loss for words restored by song. It’s Homer in the 21st century! – mh

A letter to God

featured in the poetry forum January 7, 2012  :: 0 comments

O Lord! I feel where you dwell: in corners
or on walls; in the streets or on tall tower-tops –
you are not beyond my ken
but you pretend you are a million miles away…
you just see the way stone statues do.

But oh!
MISERIES WE LIVE; MISERIES WE DIE.
We’re entangled on the hooks of questions that you,
and only you, can uncurl. Lord,
O Lord!
Your world is but half unfinished.
You have left everything in a mess!
Are we to finish it with our miseries
of minds and hearts?
Are we to act for you?

I’m surprised how you just see your creation roll down
and down
I’m surprised how you just see your children
grow wilder each passing day.

While I’m awake, you seem to be asleep
While I’m mad, you seem to be carefree
While I’m begging for your attention, you seem to be preoccupied
Oh Lord! What obliges you to latch your compassion?

I fear you might spot me for my grumble
But this is what I have to ask you for your grace.
Your eternal serenity, silence or peace
is what we all need, Oh Lord!

This soul has waited for so long for your smiling glance!
Keep me on your lap.
Show me the way forth.
Humanity, my love, is so desperate to dance in your kingdom!

Your world has resorted to
such dangerous paths
of clashes
between religions
between cultures
between impulses of devilish hungers.
I reckon man is to reverse his way
and join the Nazis’ uproar
or kill himself for a side of a coin.
Oh Lord! Isn’t there any limit
to your toleration?

You mustn’t be silent, O Lord!
You live in every breath of our lives:
you are a beggar; you are a billionaire
you are so generous; you are so mean –
every story has you, the silent side,
at the rear or in deep
letting go things unnoticed
and uncontrolled.

How could you be dead
when I can intensely feel you?
Come forth, my Lord!
Take back
the power from our miserable lives!
We are bad at giving and we are bad at taking.
That is the only problem we have been living.
Lord, come forth and release us from our guilt-ridden psyche!

editors note:

Our earthly brain tweakers and soul preachers can’t answer these questions, though good they are. We trust celestial answers are pending in frequencies our fragile ears can register. Shush now… listen. – mh

Waiting the Cool

featured in the poetry forum October 25, 2011  :: 0 comments

I

I remember I was sturdy enough,
The multifarious chores were effortless for me,
I used to drive and drag the cart,
Carrying weighty loads was nothing for me,
During the day in the scorching sun,
I wasn’t influenced from sweating and fatigue,
My frame was as hard as iron,
My heart was extended enough,
I used to sleep around the streets,
My vision was too clear,
I used to see my world,
Where I was the hero around,
Life was so free,
I used to roam any nook of my world,
There was no chain of command upon me,
I used to be arrogant on me,
There was no worry in my psyche,
My horizontal expectancy was on my soul,
That used to rejuvenate me.

II

I know my heart is shrinking now,
It pumps differently,
My vision is leaving me,
It pains me and I feel dry into it,
My frame is putrefying and rotting,
I am stooped now and becoming shorter,
My muscles are blemishing and fading,
I see the wrinkles are teasing me,
My entire status is the centre of all diseases,
I’m waiting the day,
My life is as like the setting sun,
I shelter with homogeneity to me,
My life is as the dew against dawn,
I have countless uneasiness,
I feel the frost in my heart,
Now I wait the day-the end!

editors note:

Doesn’t have to be “the end” – keep that “horizontal expectancy” on your soul. Be cool! – mh

Beggar: The Natural Identity

featured in the poetry forum September 12, 2011  :: 0 comments

I’m a beggar,
I beg street to street,
door to door,
Some people neglect me,
I become unhappy and despondent,
Because I have my own leadership,
I want to lead my own life in my own way,
I don’t bother someone who neglects me,
Do I? Never!
Some people applaud me,
I become exultant,
I become ecstatic and jovial,
Because they know my leadership as like theirs,
Someone calls me the unwanted,
And they say I am the load for the earth,
But if I’m not in the earth,
How do they show the difference between me and them?
I’m satisfied for my life,
Because I have to just beg,
I appreciate others’ leadership so I beg to them.
I don’t have any other chores to do,
The God has created me for the same,
Because He has confirmed my identity,
So I have to represent it ever in my life.
I don’t have clothes to put on,
The winter is my enemy,
It chills me and it makes me dead,
I lie over and under the mist and snow,
Passers come and cross me kicking,
They think me a log,
Rich come in Mercedes and strike me,
They back the gear and turn around,
The temple grins and laughs at me,
I feel the hard time!
I see others are also executing their rights,
Then, why not for me?
Justice and mercy of the God is the same,
For all of us,
Why am I a beggar and
Why are you rich?
I only know the reason!
Do you know? No..
The nature is mine not yours,
Because it’s dearer to me,
It is close to me,
You are enjoying the artificial things,
But I survive in natural ones,
Your life is like a machine,
Anytime it turns down,
But mine? It runs much longer.
You discriminate others, I not.
Because I’m just a beggar!
You are not one unlike me!