Matrika Pokharel

Beloved poet 'Icchuk'!
On one of those days that have become history
a few days before you were killed
we are together - you and I
...

He planted poetry
in a vase in the mansion
and said to me
this is how you ought to nurture
...

I am ready
To follow them
But they must have eyes
I am really ready
...

The white palace
molests the youth of Helambu
every night;
takes bath in the sweats of
...

Many years back, when quite young I was
You would often say to me
'Brother! What pain could Falkland experience
compared to the pang I endure through? '
...

Discontinuity


Kale the blacksmith
...

They observed the ripples of Marsyangdi
and observed the greenery that flanked.
We decided in group
to write verses on those things
...

Darkness came following me from behind;
I kept running, and moved farther
with a trust, even graver.
He went charging upon me,
...

When you name
a starving, naked man as 'civilized'
in your verse
and, eying some petty offers
...

Placing a whip
on the heads of reason
he said, 'Long live, democracy! '
With shells strewn everywhere
...

Faith happened to blossom
even on the hilltop
and belief even on the summit.
Hand in hand with you
...

As chopping boards,
they have been covering pains in smiles
for centuries.
In the chilly frost of winter
...

I have more flowers to plant
for tribute to be offered tomorrow.

Two years back
...

Nightlong, we would remain sleepless
talking about the day
and he, shut in a room
talked of night daylong.
...

Ghosts are
leading the way from the front
with headlights on.
Clearing the way,
...

Jackals in white dresses
are forwarding proposals
for animal husbandry;
owls, safe in tree holes
...

When, just yesterday
they entered the Singha Durbar
showing us a different way
and just now
...

Every morning
I go to the Sahid Gate
to show my obeisance
but a shameless bust I loathe
...