Bijay Poudel

(10th june,1991 / Khotang, Nepal)

Bunker's poetry


May be it's nice to know,
What lies outside the classroom's show?
The Times of India's unchecked news,
The canteenkeeper's maggi stews,
The time and again of convincing the mind,
that its cool to escape lectures of this kind,
where the habble babble are beyond your reach,
where what you learn differs from what they teach.
And the sad librarian's funny rage,
on finding someone browsing a confession page,
and the way she makes it genuinely clear,
that this is the last thing she is able to bear,
but to afford a smart reply might need calm guts,
so you'd better escape, instead, to settle your butts,
that could be a pool house or one fancy mall,
but a poorer you end up in your lecture hall,
And when the monitors spread your attendance files,
all you are left with will be some awkward smiles,
your machismo subsides and you feel like a little punk,
but this is not the end cause you'll again bunk.
May be it's a rebellion or your fun,
Or may be it has become your religion,
May be it costs a deal or may be it comes for free,
or may be you're too proud to compose a bunker's poetry...
or may be you're too proud to compose a bunker's poetry.

Submitted: Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, November 12, 2013
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My poem. My story.

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