More Pain
The rage is beaming,
There is a hole
In the heart.
Like talents that stumble,
Like gardens that empty,
There is nothingness
That is not like
The wheelbarrow.
Whatever grows
Will see the world.
I am raging at
The nuclearization
What should not be
Is only valid when
It appears.
First, it appears
Then we are able to say
That it should not be.
I break the flowerpots
To find my breaking heart.
Now this has lead
To more pain.
Take Me As I Am
Take me as I am,
The garden is all set.
Fragrances haunt
Like deep longings.
There is an aftermath
Of everything.
Hold on
Till the ways
Run wild.
All that is thrilling
Is worth the ride
Of life.
In simple tones,
Nature lives
And reveals
That the fog is beautiful.
I seek your voice,
To listen
Something soothing.
Take my name,
I shall meet you
By the evening's stupor.
Nothing to Hide
I wake up,
A force in design,
The sipping life
Is not empty
Of its cup.
Talk of the day,
The remaining hours
Are passing by.
I am blessed to live
Like an artful recollections.
Let the hours pass,
Let the sky sink
And the dawn arrive
Like a sketch.
With you by my side
The distances could
Solve the equation
Of detachment.
In telling,
There is nothing
To hide.
Garden and Distances
I am 50 miles
Away,
And 50 miles close
To become an art
That you choose.
I am the affection
That you pulled close,
In the hour of need.
Soul does its searching,
Weaknesses are like
The dark night
That melts like
Candles in the wind.
Music rains like kisses,
Wild flowers grow
With no planted seeds,
Love is a garden,
Where colors bloom,
In mesmerizing phases.
Bio: Sushant Thapa is a Nepalese poet with nine books of English poems and one short story collection to his credit. He holds an M.A. in English Literature from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, India. His poems are published at Bold Monkey Review, Trouvaille Review, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Corporeal Lit Mag, etc. He is a lecturer of English in Biratnagar, Nepal.
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