menash mohan shrestha Poems

Chilling at the core, fire on the surface. Oh! How I wish I could talk. How I wish to say that even my refrigerant is in need of some moving air.
In this scorching heat, I provide you your much longed ice cubes. But even in my ice chest there is an alein invasion of moulds. Oh How I hate these pychrophils. And in the country of never ending blackouts you kept me in a dark corner. And the self thawing ice inside my compartment wets my innards. I'm so sick of this.
And what's more. I can't even talk. Even if I could, you have always preferred a long distance love with me just to enjoy the love of your pet dog. I want to shout out. I want to cry. But unlike you people, I'm not supplied with the mundane communications tools when you are far away from me. Can't convey through words and letters. Can't convery through thephone. Can't convey through the space.
And there's always less people and much food. Less mouth and much long list of menu.Who would tell you that I am not a lorry to carry your sorry.
...

In my death bed, hell is here.
Tossing and turning with my bedsore.
Like flipping and burning in the frying pan.
...

I love it when her eyes lighten up.
When she's able to read my paper face.
Ripe. With so many cuts.
Folded and bled.
...

That brow when rose, browbeats me,
To fall into your pliable foot.
Your tip of tounge, my elixir source,
When enchants my name,
...

Everyday you go through such an ordeal,
For you must suffer before you die.
Every end of the day you die on your bed,
...

You've rocked me to and fro like a piston.
I was nothing to you but a mere stone.
But the Time plays always a protagonist.
Now you are counted as a traitor.
...

You used to be my queen in Fukushima.
And now you are soaked up in aroma.
It made you blushed in blue.
So that you are surrounded by this hullabaloo.
...

Sharp canines shining in the lunar beam.
Displacing everyone's heart as they scream.
Haemophilic vampires are out of the mist.
To drink fluid of life, as a devoted sadist.
...

It all started in the middle of the night.
When she engulfed the burning sun in her dark dungeon.
Suddenly which changed her economics.
It made her wealthy, it made her
...

Her
hours seem patient,
as she painted her sky with
colours
...