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A Collection of 20 poems
by

Pushpa Ratna Tuladhar
Poet from Nepal ===================================== 1 An Old Railway Line
In the death chamber confines The soul of my mind Handcuffed by tragedy Sentenced to death penalty Just close to a blink of my eyes With an illusionary greetings Of long lives Standing before me Face to face – My death. Startled I’m like the whirl Of the breeze on cobwebs Hanging in every corner Of this death chamber Not in use for centuries Neither I can blink my eyes Nor breathe my breath Asleep is the fireplace With only ashes Decomposed in wetted firewood Neither the wisp of fire Nor the glow of flame. Rusty hinges on the door Perforated by rust Through which holes Smirk the gloomy bored moon Seeking shelter for a night A moment of unpleasant and discontent Moans like a wild beast

Severe wounds In inner of the minds Moans like a cry of spasm By unwilling sexual desire Seduced by the enemy In the defeated war Echoed from the walls around Fearing to have an ear Will shrunk In the emptiness of the room At any time the electric shock May turn the body to ashes Only a fistful of my breath Remaining in my body Will hurried to rebel by Shattering every words of my poem Like the old railway lines Discarded after the war Hides its originality In the rust and grassy grooves Rebels of another kinds Like the silent crater of sleeping volcano Erupts and scatters the lava on the earth Every word of my inner minds That’s collected in the coarse paper Only sensed by my wounded heart Indeed it’s my poem.

2 Full Stop
Fully occupied I’m in my day-to-day affairs, While in my office room Like the magnet attracts iron dusts The lower soles of my shoes Turns to be as decade old by Absorbing the dirt and dust Settled as sediment in several layers Under the surface of the carpets

Blanketed over my office room Really unconscious I’m For my body fatigued after my day-to-day works As my office time elapsed, In hurry and harsh to reach my home quick, My fatigued legs holding my shoes Forgets to dust off the dirt and dust From the soles of my shoes In the jute mattress outside of my office-room Dirt and dust settled under the jute carpets Having free access in the light and air As it likes to behave and it wishes to fly Get every word of my written poem Scattered along the way From my office to my home The remaining dirt and dust in my shoes is Thrown away by dusting off my shoes In the jute mattress outside my home As full stop to my poem of a day In trauma I’m for the whole night My eyes widens as an open window Shaken by the dirt and dust I sprinkled Out of my soles of my shoes On the way between my home and office I stride every day. The Upper soles of my shoes picks away The words of dirt and dust, which Dreams a lustful passion with the glow Soaked by dewdrops of the yester morn And settle down the earth Like question mark split way from its answer The full stop. 3 Quintessence of Quiescent Up the polished ceiling above my bed In my bedroom resting for a while, A camouflaged lizard crawls his webbed feet

With dead silence in his spider tongue Hunting a fly nearby in languorous mood So unconscious of to-be catastrophe Bony spine of mine chills enough To freeze my whole body like an ice For the certainty of yet another calamities Befalling on my quiet turbid heart At any moments of my present life. My desire to rest for a while with My frightened and horror-stricken mind Strives to take up its clothes of fright and horror As if torched with mother of bomb Runs naked towards the camera lens With my screams frozen in frame That unknowingly and unconsciously adheres To the severe fading wall of my bedroom. That portrait of mine destined to hide its reality Sinks in time warped depth of ocean Damped with futuristic dirt and dust Wailing a digger to reveal the quintessence of An embryonic present matured to rare earth Out of an ovary of pregnant futurity. 4 The Hollow Through the broken windowpane Set my beholding eyes On an empty room like a wanton whore In naked beauty more adorned bushy cunt Lying duped and beguiled on the floor, Sighing desperately for her heart’s desire That’s canvassed on the fading wall. A spider spits and spins his web In silken and golden fibers so close and tight As the fabric length tranquilized her sleek satin gown Bidding to hide her shameful nudity. Lizards’ crawling up faded steps of walls

Crying tender fervour in spider tongues Swallowing all insects and beings in thirst throats Moves out his tongue fiercely passionate watered, Wishes to copulate with emptiness of the room Pisses and passes turd spotting Fierce scars and malodorous stains All over the walls and grounds Like the field after the war Indeed the certainty of yet another war The spider faces in planet Earth Living in a home at war, Lies motionless and breathless As if dead in other’s eyes Waiting to track him in silken golden web. In the tug of war between them, The webbed room turns ghostly By the horror of the vampire Creeping its feet Through the broken windowpane Sucking blood in darkness of the sky That grows fierce with clouds As curdled as the milk from a whore’s teat The doors throw bolts into locks Keeping the withered souls inside To decay till darkness Sighing in vain to feel the emptiness. 5 The Thirsty Throat My glaring eyes sneak a look at The clear spring waters In the water jug (karuwa) – The pure appearance of my face Reflected like in the mirror Strike against the inner surfaces Split into bits and pieces With dispersal of rainbow, refracts The reality in my known face – Shattered lives of my whole life.

Those bits and pieces of my living Soldered together in rhymes Frozen my poems into iceberg Stand up firmly like snowy peak Clear and transparent in its life The clichéd words melt into water Flow in currents of the river and Rest in the bed of the ocean. The straight waterways from The top of mountain to the ocean bed Condensed from the veins of the nature Passes through stones pebbles, sands and clays Pours to the brim in water jug The pure spring water From the mouth of the water jug Like the cool waterfall falls to My thirsting throat. 6

Yab Yum
My faithful heart surrenders To the current of time passing by For my single humane body Being virtually divided in two forms One resembles to my own masculinity And another to her femininity Just opposite to my own being. Not being able to differentiate me Of both sexes in character, structure and function. Quite astonished I am For my introductory face Half beautified with moustache And another half naturally clean For my boasted breast Half adorned with a flat organ And another half with bosomed bust For my groin Half adored with testis

And another half with glowed cunt In my whole body Half grown with hairs coursed all over And another half beauteous clean In my heads Half grown with male hair And another half with long hairs Alas! Do pity me for Nature of my humane Of no disintegration of both sexes Undetached and undistinguished. As the time passes Like the lighting in the thundering rain I experienced a fertile root Blossoming under my groin Over her smooth lush womb. A strange passionate bisexuality I feel by forcing myself to bleed Flowing spills gently Out of my wetted groin over her lush cunt. Feeling the deep exertion of a living breath For satisfying my amazing lust To clutch at her bosomed breast Flows a stream of sweet milk To scream at my heartiest heart Adores sweet babe With an umbilical chord to her womb Of a human, of a nation. 7 Nirvana Taking off my shoes Entered into The room of darkness Like the shiny black satin Slipped from her shoulder Exposing the tender flesh Hungered with living passion

Burning like hot red iron Hammered to work out The pattern of my poem That shines like whitey silky moon In the open sky at midnight Fearing so much of Hurting the silence Shrouded in the dark night I plunge my feet Soft as petal and light as air On the darkness No footprints glimpse on Tender skins of her body, But my feet burnt red I didn’t care the pain For the carnal beauty of my love Hidden in depth of this darkness. The night jasmine that blooms In darkness of the night Reveals so much beauty In my eyes In its bloom that breathes So much sweet fragrance But the humming of the death Mused in my ears Whirled I’m through the vortex Of the darkness of the night To let you hold me in her grasp Never I want to born again and again . 8 The Folklore of the Jungle Over the branch of a jungle tree Swinging in the gentle winds lies The hollow skins peeled off By a baby cobra, by an allergy Spreads all over its body Growing enough to be young.

With its tough and hard efforts, Struggles for a long period of time To peel of its first layer of skin Entirely from its head to tail. Quite fatigued and hunger-stricken Baby cobra runs to the jungle Looking for its food to gobble. Sensing the hissing by its fresh skin, Stands erected some feet high Stir the eyes around the jungle grass And behold a snake, crippling forward On the way to its shelter. Baby cobra hissed with its mouth Opened as wide as it toughens Throw its target to the snake’s head Not aware of any casualty That may befall at any moment on its way. Baby Cobra caught sharp the snake’s head In whole inside its mouth full to bursting, Swallowed whole from the head to tail Swelled its body with sufficient space To devour the whole length of the snake Larger enough in two fold than itself To satisfy its thirst of hunger. Quite boasting of its valour in war, Baby cobra spreads the skin of its neck To let all known, quite young it’s grown now With its length stretched two-half folds Crawled inside its muddy hole in the grass To rest for a while in its shelter. The folklore of the jungle never told before, None is aware of the reign of the jungle That has before now crossed the threshold of To spread like the wildfires to the city. Turning the jungle itself into its ecstasy. 9

An Inestimable Fraction In the Solar system,, Earth fronts an asteroid Moving in same orbit Just parallel to its way At the same speed as it has At the same direction Round the Sun. Being occupied itself in its orbit As its regular travel to its orbit, The earth is quite unaware From where the asteroid entered, When it happened to met it In the orbit of the Sun The Earth is frightened As if happened all of a sudden When the Earth and the asteroid Exchanged their way of traveling Just opposite to their orbit And move on their way around the sun Only a fraction of a second Has a difference between them To exchange their way Of traveling in their orbit, Otherwise they collide each other With a disaster of unknown result For unexpected ad unwilling The vast change In the solar system Thanks to this precious fraction of a second, Abominated by them as trifle and nothing, Which averted the disaster Beyond their expectation To befallen on them To remain as it’s As if nothing happened In the Solar system..

9 The mirage Flying higher up the sky Eagle stretches his wings as wide In the limit of bluish sky And acts in vain to intervene The sunlight from kissing the earth And throw his eyes widened afar To the earth below Quite surprised at his own shadow Thrown over the whole earth So larger and so wider enough And too proud of his ability and strength To occupy the land of nature and green In his own possession The eagle Quite unaware the truth of his shadow Tired of flying higher up the sky Falls straight down the earth Breathing desperately Takes rest on a piece of the earth So cool by sorrows knowing the reality Nothing owned by him But a few of the earth in his possession That stuck the claws of his feet 10 My Battered Soul No words I’ve to depict For my battered soul Snared inside your soul Yearning to get out of it Like the script of my poem Of the languished agony Burst out of my heart In a piece of the course paper.

Not known to me, If my eyes blinded Or freshly awakened, My longing for fits of passion, Fragrances of the flower And the rustlings of the heartbeat Swept me far, far away to the place I never have been to, Where no other, but silence muses. My soul, aloof and hidden, is Shattering, with fresh scratches All over the skins of the earth, And vanished in the darkness Of the dark night soaked with tears. Moon, not being aware of any sorrow In its absence, consoles By showing the deep scratches in its face It’s indeed the inner feelings Of my battered soul. 11 My Agony Simile and metaphor in my poem Substitute for an image of my agony That I feel hurt by a rift In fabric length of my soul, Widened to an unbearable chasm By the irreparable damage, Caused by the glowing wounds In the depth of my hearts. Striven I’ve in sewing together The edges between the rifts By the strongly twisted threads. But the bad stitches crafted by my hands Reveal the scratches of the deep scars That’s not hidden from others’ eyes Even after my wound hailed. Occupied I'm in

Veiling this scar in the rhythm Of the poems created by My agonized hearts. 12 An Old Worn Out Shoes Discarded in the gutter, Trailed by the way of my journey, A pair of my old worn out shoes Never to walk in the streets again. As my body rolled onto the gurney To throw me away in the death chamber, My gnarled toes and feet Stuck in earth by the burden Of my head to toe, Wetted in blood tickling sweats I create during my whole life. Tucked inside the shoes, Never I can take my shoes off from my feet. Which made every walks of my life Comfortable in the streets, Alas! Some one put off my shoes To throw away in the gutter. 13 Caught in the Lens The ebony night crawls With its webbed feet On my distressed mind, To peel off my fusty clothes, From my fatigued body, Stinking me like the putrescence Of my time, and of my life, Feels me then As light as feather Floating up into the azure.

Before my inner eyes, Barely exposed I’m In my living portrait Caught in the lens of camera Zoomed in and out To perfect my image With my own personal touch Just for hanging in the wall Of my living room. 14 Shameless Moon Moon standing in the dark edge Of the skyways Like a shameless whore Waiting for someone To be swept by love and lust Falls her tender beauty On my bathtub filled with The crystal clear water Tranquilized like drunken Changing itself into mirror In which her sublimed shadow Whirled by the whisper of wind Blurred by the soapy fizzes Sunken beneath the waves. With cosmic clouds Ravished by her unlike beauty In sheer lunacy turned me down Like that my mind is drained As brittle as dry ice on my flesh Like the dyeing embers Of smouldering pyre Every word of my poems Seemed full of clichés. 15 The Open Window Poetry just budding to child

In the embryo of my soul To step down the earth Depressed with my accustomed efforts Of creating poetry – Declined to emerge as usual In the coarse paper To get printed In same ink of rainbow By same quill pen That dazzled the world As myth and mystery Of war, terror and hatred Instead my poetry asked My inner eyes To touch the world Peeping through the open window Of its eyes – mingling with the glow of dawn. From this moment stolen by my poetry My unfortunate poet refrained himself in creating poetry – Quite amazing this moment For the poetry created the poet.

Words Though my agony is silence in my lips Every word of your love, hate and pain That you hit in harsh over me Never Ifeel my mind hurt Instead I compile each and every word In the treasure of my heart Fearing to lose every bit and piece Of syllables of these words, I thread all together as a garland Of flowers, that beautifies the sky As the colours of rainbow Stretched in horizon to horizon As if binding the earth at my glance So enticing this poem would be Never I feel this much in my life.

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17 Wild Goose Chase

My shadow is chasing me As if chased by the wild goose Disparately running I’m after To haunt the dawn for shelter. In the bed of dark night Lies her carnal beauty wrapped In satin black velvet mist Whispers in my piercing ears To mesmerize me to sink within her I slept with the dark night But awaked by thrust of climax When I am frozen like an ice In the darkness of midnight I find The night has passed other way Trailed by the day coming Disheartened I’m by the tragedy Searching her on all the ways No footprints I find in the darkness of night But only twinkling of the stars Gazing at me mercilessly I am in the hand of death 18 An Oven heart Duck bites the moon Shining in a broken fence Escapes in fright For his peak is hurt As if struck in stone Spin a rush of pinched affections At the point where cotton grew From hands that picked it The sparrow bite a bead Tied in thread Severely choked up

Neither he can swallow Nor vomit out; Flies away with long thread strung its heart About the branches in a wild Let me pull the splinter From your bite 19 The Oceanic Blues In a dream or reality, know not I, My bare feet stuck on the sands On the beach of the ocean, Piercing eyes of mine stares at Other edge, far away in horizon Illusory meeting of the sky and sea Seeking the peace in the blues. Surfing in the blues and hues My body and soul feel this much The calm of the ocean that’s blues But in this calmness hides the waves That crash against the rocks Turning into sands The flow and ebb tides That shocks vibrant its surfaces By the effect of the moon Desperately I yell, but no one heard Being pitch of my voice shrunken In an ailing tongue of mine. My muffled cry echoes back, As the dawn crawls in waves, foamed with whiteness, No one feels, no one limits The depth of an ocean waters That has so much agony to bear To turn its watery transparency Into foaming white as the clouds Struggling with the azure.

Indeed the blues of the ocean Is the reflection of the sky Returned back my body and soul Wrapped with empty minds in despair Though in pure seclusion Still thirsting for peace As the wispy rays of hope In the secluded nook of my mind. 20 The Body Worlds (An event “Koerperwelten” organized by the creater of the art, Mr. Gunther von Hagens, in Frankfurt, Germany exhibiting skinned corpses in art) So horrified though Of unique and different art Exposure of real corpses With skins peeled off Arts of bony skeleton that Outcries severely The reality of humane – All humane are same But some are tall or low Some are fat or lean Only the colors depict by Skins and bloods shrouds The body of human Nirvana I’m enlightened The carnal beauty that I see Through my beholding eyes No thing, nothing, but hollow As the silence of the sky Not the replicated dead bodies, But actual the art are from The Corpses

Outsiders cry the living humane Dead bodies should laid to rest In dignified manner With displaying the wreaths, Coffins and tombstones No business with death No gallery of horror.

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