1. Self-created World
Days and dates,
Faces and memories
All are reflected
Like a passing train,
In moments
Of thoughtfulness.
Shadows and sunlight,
Time and absence
All have imprints
Of thoughtfulness.
A circle is complete
In its own,
But we assign it the
Value of zero.
There is a
Game of perception,
Making new levels
About human understanding.
Winning or losing
Is like dedicating hours
Of passion,
To find a space
In the self-created new world.
Self-created world
Contains the entirety
In its essence.
2. Depth of Subjectivity
Coming from the depth
I seek.
I was on the surface
Before my time disfigured.
Changes bleed.
Freedom is my luxury;
I need to proclaim freely.
A subjective flower
Is my worship
Of a disfigured time.
I have grown faith
Overtime,
Like a deep well.
Human relation
Is where my empathetic spear
Teaches me to hunt,
For the survival.
The first worldly lesson
Has always been survival,
Now we are stepping onto
New planets of discovery.
3. Free My Cage
I am touched
By the wind,
The gentle kiss by it,
The slow
Whispering sermons
By it, on how lighthearted
I need to play the game
Of life.
Every soul that blesses
Me is a flower
Of wild ecstasy.
The wind is my preacher.
I rise with waking alphabets
To sew my poetic patches.
Every savoring glances
Free my cage.
4. In a Poetic Manner
I keep looking
At the touch of a raindrop
How a lily would glow.
l kept teaching a lesson
On how to be carefree
As a child,
Even in older days.
I keep cuddling
Like a sweet sleep.
Music is my spontaneity
In listening to the inner city
Of my being.
My inner city
Is full of mind-leaves.
The echo of laughter
Is my forest.
I am drunk in spontaneity
I never know how high
I can get intellectually,
In a poetic manner.
5. Service is Dharma
I take a walk,
Every nomenclature
Seems right.
Quite a depth
Speaks in observation.
Life has different names.
I am the vessel
Filled with water
Kept on the sidewalk
Of the road
Left for animals,
On the vessel it has been carved
"Service is Dharma."
6. Selling and buying time
The office hour
Isn't a foe,
But time is freedom too.
Let the office not buy your time
But try to be productive
Throughout the timeline.
Time is sold and bought
Freedom is caged,
If the wealth buys your time
It cages your freedom.
Work with ease,
And space.
Feel the breeze pass by.
Let the wine of passion
Be your guiding force at work.
I am not against time
And office hours
But let the work enlighten
Your heart.
7. Prophesy
The morning has come
Like my arrival
To a garden.
The red carpet of assurance
Tries to find
What the cause for frozen
Traveling feet is.
Out there
The sun sinks swiftly
Like a diving bird
Reaching a nest beyond
The welkin's trauma.
I sit and watch
Like a silent spectator,
Why mother earth wails,
With her humanity
By her side?
A scar is something
Which is deep.
Every day the morning comes
I feel like some soothing,
Some consoling prophesy
Will rain someday.
© Sushant Thapa
Biratnagar-13, Nepal