If I spoke Spanish, I’d write the saddest lines tonight

If I spoke Spanish, I’d write the saddest lines tonight
Curse at the metaphysical bodies, and bloody stars
That look at me and throw a party for the universe

If I spoke Spanish, I’d write the saddest lines tonight
For tears in the heart have dried up
Like the power-cuts in Kathmandu

If I spoke Spanish, I’d write the saddest lines tonight
Have you seen the moon laugh at your heartbreak?
I wonder how long can the heart endure

If I spoke Spanish, I’d write the saddest lines tonight
And let the heart do tango
Entangled with cold, dark butterflies

If I spoke Spanish, I’d write the saddest lines tonight
Strum my pain with invisible fingers
For the soul speaks a foreign language that no can understand

If I spoke Spanish, I’d write the saddest lines tonight
And drown in the saddest songs of Mariachi
I broke the ukulele’s wretched strings

If I spoke Spanish, I’d write the saddest lines tonight
For the tongue no longer can speak language of love
I guess I dumped my heart deep into Phewa Lake.

Sunny Love  

Summer is gone

The grasses are shedding their natural color

The eagles visit me no more

Yet when I sit back on my Autumnal couch

I think of you—my angel, my love—

It pains to the core when you misunderstand me—

Do you know what it takes to try and love, and love and try?

 

I have stopped buying books

As I fear knowledge now

I have understood that knowledge drives you mad

So does pride and stubbornness!

 

If you can’t disregard venial words

I wonder if the hidden closets will tickle your bones

Even the clothes inside insinuate the idea

That those things will be okay

That you’ll understand

 

I have carved a door for you—

Will you continue to stay outside in the storm smiling insanely?

 

Time to come home.

 

 

Her Lipstick

I carry her lipstick inside my pocket
To remind the hectoring heart
That she loves you with no intentions whatsoever
Its embonpoint structure makes my heart jump
Like a young kid travelling from the US to Kathmandu,
I carry her lipstick and advice the heart
That that’s the door to her heart,
Sometimes I am aghast with the heart’s furphy cacophonies

I carry her lipstick to remind myself
That I am at times a ramshackle
That I am a complaisant child

So I carry her lipstick inside my pocket unintentionally
And let all the kisses pacify me

I carry her lipstick
I carry her love
I carry her inside my pocket

I carry her.

झगडा गर्ने तरिका

१. टुइट, रिटुइट पढ्नु, र निउखोज्नु
के के सिरिज हेर्छ भन्दै निउखोज्नु

२. भबिश्यको कुरा लिएर निउखोज्नु
वर्तमानमा गरेको चालचलन देखेर निउखोज्नु

३. खाना एक्लै खानु, माया आएपछि हास्नु
मायालुले किन एक्लै खाना खाएको भनेर निउखोज्नु

४. सोसल मेडियामा लेखेको कुरामा निउखोज्नु
संगै हुँदा बोलेको कुरा संग निउखोज्नु

५. एकअर्कालाई नबुझ्नु अनि निउखोज्नु
कैलेकाई जिस्केर यतिकै निउखोज्नु

६. अन्तिममा एकार्कालाई बुझ्नु, माया गर्नु
अनि निउनखोज्नु, माया बढाउनु

माया गर्ने छ तरिका

१. पोखरी नजिक भेट, मल्लभित्र बस
एक्लै खाना खानु, प्रेमिकालाई रिसउठाउनु

२. अग्लो भित्तालाई छुनु, दङ्ग परेर हेर्नु
माथि चढेको जस्तो गर्नु, जीवनको एक उपमा–
तल झरे पनि अघि बढ्नु

३. मदिरा खाना भौतारिनु तर नखानु
लेमोन र कोक पिउनु तर छुट्टाछुट्टै–
उनको कुरा बुझ्न दिमागलाई ३६० डिग्री घुमाउनु

४. काफलको रुख देख्नु अनि उफ्रनु
मलाई देख्नु अनि उफ्रनु

५. फुल देख्नु तर फुल नदिनु
मुस्कान हेर्नु, अनि प्रदुषित सहरमा डुल्नु

६. घर आउनु, उसलाई सोच्नु
सपनामा फेरि उनीलाई देख्नु

Summer, September

I am kind of lost
Between summer and September
Between losing myself to your smile
It surely must be the mithridate

mithridate
For images piled upon my heart,
One by one it is cut off
I said hello—that was mine contretemps
For I got to meet you,
But really what ersatz smile would I make
To replace yours,
I have no idea about it,
These days I am so scared of losing my heart
I have battened it thus,
Your smile is a raconteuse
Wherefore I am confused between summer and September
Sometimes I make a majuscule out of what’s left within the heart

Then like the summer wind
You come to me,
Cool like your smile.

 

ढोका

के प्रेम ढोका हो र?

कहिले खोल्ने, कहिले बन्द गर्ने;

माया, तिमी प्रेमको कैदी हो र?

र म त्यो पिंजडाको रखवाला

अती दु:खदायी सोच

 

म अस्ति देखि कैले पानी पर्छ भन्दै

आकाशतिर हेर्दैछु

त्यहाँ केवल देख्दछु मेरो ढल्दै गरेको भाका,

जब मेरो हातलाई पानीको छिट्टाले चुमछन्

म आकाशको गर्जनसंगै बिलाई जान्छु

 

अब के त्यो ढोका खुल्ला छ?

के तिमी अब हिंड्दैछौ?

के प्रेम ढोका हो र?

 

तिम्रो लागी

तिम्रो लागी, मेरी मायालु, मैले दारी काटिन

तिम्रो लागी मैले बिहानको खाना खाएन

तिम्रो लागी मैले मैतीदेवीको धुलो खाए

तिम्रो लागी मैले एक फोहोरी पोखरीलाई प्रेम गरे

तिम्रो लागी रोडको चटपटे खाईदिए

 

तिमीलाई तर थाहा छैन होला

मैले दुई पटक ट्विटर मेटाएको थिए

तर मैले पूर्ण रुपमा मेटाउन सकिन

तिमीलाई थाहा होला किन भनेर

 

तिम्रो लागी मैले केहि गरेको छैन

तिमीले केवल मलाई सिकाएको छौ

जीवन सुन्दर छ भनेर|

A Beautiful Evening

On a beautiful Saturday evening
Sun’s reddish kisses spread
Over the pond’s forehead,
Her eyes graciously twinkling:
Our hearts merged, and souls whistling;
I was at ease and no music was beautiful
As she told me that life is beautiful.

Life is beautiful
When you can make silly jokes and laugh about it together
Life is beautiful
When you can talk about anything and not judge each other
She said she’s building a dream
And I’m part of it.
Nothing is beautiful than hearing such assurances.

Everything was beautiful
And she was the reason.

Drunk

Africa Africa Africa
In my mind (the whole night)
It rang left to right
Throughout the ancient veins

A face appeared
(I thought it had gone surgery)
The face from St John
Is now lost apparently

With the chopsticks that I threw on the shore of Irving Park
The lips I no more remember
The grandeur palms of nothingness

I am on the edge of sanity and insanity
I divert and covert
I am both

Last night I found myself
At the Capital Complex in Fredericton
Where three candles lit brightly
While I gazed at a bizarre painting
Where a bear or an alien walked with a human
I think to this point

Last decade I wrote a poetry about getting drunk in love
Without drinking

This time I say I am drunk without love but by drinking
Budweiser, Rickard’s red and water
The combination of madness, loneliness and stupidity

I painted a pathway for myself
Where I could walk without fear and sanity
If I had lost reason I would simply put myself in the rewind mode
And get back to where I didn’t even start

Sun had gone down, blame it.

The trouble didn’t end there
Downward the basement existed
Where drums cello saxophone guitar keyboard
And magical instruments played music unknown
I guess it was country
I really don’t like that genre
And standing standing for a long time
I entered a realm full of stars

Stars everywhere
On her shoes
On the floor
Inside my mind

My mind exploding ruthlessly
My face hit with unknown sorrow and sadness

But I overheard someone say,
‘You’re Africa,’

I must be a radical
I must write a rebellious poetry

I cannot continue writing about lines that no one can fathom
I cannot continue writing about lines that cannot make anyone drunk

Yes, last night I was drunk
Drunk with silliness
Drunk with insanity
Drunk with craziness
Drunk with madness

Outside the Poutine’s

I grabbed a golden-haired girl’s cigarette
And threw inside my mouth
The smoke went inside me
Her too, not really.

I inhaled centuries of madness
I inhaled centuries of injustices
I inhaled centuries of segregation

I speak English
Je parl la francaise (Dear French speakers, is this correct?)

Divide me by your languages
Divide me by your races
Divide me by your colors
Divide me by your citizenship, permanent residency, temporary foreign workers, and international students
Divide me however you want to
For your pleasure, Sir and Madam,
Oui, merci beaucoup

I walked to and fro
Asking people silly insensible questions

Why is that green?
Who invented the fork?
Is that English?
Why does money exist?

I was drunk by questions that haunts me every day
Why injustices and madness do exists?

Why do I exist?
Why the world exists even if I am not here?

The trees are wild again
Last night it was snowy again
April is not the cruelest month
Winter is the cruelest thing in Canada

I have home in my mind

And I’d like to return one step at a time

I have hit rock bottom
Let my soul get drowned in messy sketches

I have become drunk
I am this surreal paint

My mind nonetheless functions abruptly

If I still can reason

I will finish the last paper
Because I am drunk with fear and admonition

Because I am drunk to kill illogical sorrow

But there’s no sorrow

It is just my mind
That floats

Like hopeless clouds
Tomorrow the sun will shine
Snow will melt
And I will write a revolutionary poem.

This night is drunk again.

I hate beer bottles.