Hem Raj Bastola

Whirling,
In a nightmare,
I awake.

Living
Subconscious,
In the unconscious
Hours of sleep.
A thought in me
Was eager
For: beauty.

Her face is:
A red apple,
With a juicy bite,
I realize.

Romantic
Depth of night
Where your shy lips
Were shivering
But the smile
Was attractive.

When,
I fondle you,
Your coy smooch;
Attacks tenderly.
As you huddle me,
A pair of clementine,
Ask me to peel.
They were
So soft.

And
A sweet,
Recondite,
Juice of night
You serve;
to my thirsty
Soul.

A hook in the eyes,
Fishing a dream.
Enthralled, pulling: a rope
To net your mute beauty
Unmatched, climbing high
To harvest on eyes.

In the vacant horizon I play,
Reading every silence.
Find you are my life, when I am alone.
There you stand in front,
What is that of you?

Unreserved, planted deep,
A memory; missing: I cry.
Recurring dream of a foreign beauty
Haunted deep flying high.
I walk alone,
In a lonely street.

Tickling my roots of:
Involuntary sleeping nerves,
rubbing on a flint you spark.
The fire of: your beauty,
That you ornament and
The shine on your face,
Paralyze my mind.

Grinding,
In a vortex,
Flour of my mind,
Dough, and spin.
Loosing free the skeins
Of: a thought.
Experience ink.

Reminded
Memory of the day,
Like Hydra walk.
Looking for veins to suck
Needle my skin.
Stranded I walk bleeding,
As you ravish me
On the way.

Blood,
That coagulates
On my feet, slimy
and slippery, I end:
With spindle yarn
Of leeches: a rein
Controlling my
Evacuated brain.

Who
Is gonna think?
Her vague presence
Buried in the
Womb of silence,
And I weep for
Her beauty.

Got drunk,
In my madness,
Spinning her dream;
In the haywire.
Loitering in the streets
In search of poetry,
Collecting sights
To stir, in alleys.

Sitting
On a temple porch,
Pondering night,
Did not meet any thought.
Melting by the temperatures
Of: emotion, kissing whose
Unkissed lips.
You create a current,
Oh! Volatile.

Dancing with
The caressing breeze
For the droplets of dew
Distilled tonight.
Surprise of a turn
With sericeous head
And seductive smile
Disappear within a wink
Flying to the world:
Of nymph.

And as a
Destitute dreamer,
Staring at her flight
I wait for an
Early plane
To catch.

Spinning
Flocculant wool,
Weaving a gravid
Thought.

A blunt tip,
Blindly forged
Into a furnace
Of a brain
To sharp.

Spinning
A sharpener
To pencil a thread of
Wired inkblot
Brood.

Twisting
Yarns the knot,
Giving shape to
A textile she
Brought.

Reading
Undulating
Beats of a heart
In a line of yarns
How I got
Lost.

Being
Indulged
Into silence
Madly,

Stock hold
Of energy scalding
Invisible here.

A thought,
Vague utterance
Of the vast;
A thunder.

Like
The flash of
Lightening
A current of
Brain wave
Trigger.

Erupted
Ember liquid
Golden rim of
Volcano wearing
Crater on my paper
waites the rain.

To become
A lake, where;
I can swim
So deep.

To fish
By the shore
I spread, the seine
Intertwined string
The knots.

I let
My sinkers drown
Loosening the rope
Waiting for her sight
Occupied with
Similar job
Other side.

How long
Do we live
Face to face
Opposite banks
Dissemble not, please
To embowel in arms
Come into the waters
I will pull ashore
The seine.

?
Dark of the night
Silence creeping
Dead is alive.

Rattling among the bones
Cracked ribs I hear
Nibbling skin, rats are enjoying
Smoking kiln active
Invisible fireworks blasting.

What a celebration
When life is in transit
The bridge is needed to cross.
A thread of hope is blinking
Far ahead the phosphorus flame
The grave is shining, a ghost
Emitting phosphorus
Enacting to live.

And I, as in dream
Terrified and
Paranoid, scream.

In order
To clear my vision
Journey of imagination
An obscure memory
Engraved into
Eyes.

Playing
Papers I learn
To make the plane
Word-knots fixing: a bolt
Riveting clouds
Every now and then
Immersed into
Aesthetic
Infinity.

Whenever
The paper planes
Bring me back
An exhumed child
Carefree and wild
Reminds on each
Transmitted paper
To rebirth again
Running into
The field.