Reuters photo
By
Santosh Kumar Pokhrel
I Wage A Moral War
Humility was internalized
As decency was advised
Etiquette was observed to full
Submission harmonized.
Ask me what I did not do
In fake this big bazaar?
This world of lies and human cries
To world of fools debar.
And now you tell me why I grew
To false image your tar
And bring about some change in life
I wage a moral war.
On The Altar
Sacrificed are those animals
Some indoor some outdoor
Some in temples almost
And some lost ashore
To experience their fate
In debate
If the sacrifice is a lore!
I sat entwined
With my blurred mind
A bit aligned
With the kind
Of this rite.
And things I knew
As tried my critical view
Nothing wrong or right.
Peoples’ creeds
With their different breeds
Things going alright.
To you I pray
Better yourself you say
If it is a virtue or vice
This sacrifice!
My Village
Just once a year or two
As memories of childhood
And rustic smells me woo,
My tender heart;
Wishes instant revert
To the trails,
With swirl of sands in the gales;
Itching our eyes
We all the guys
Never did we fail
To smell this odor
And the cow shed’s fodder
That we could much inhale.
I think for some while
That heart mine beguile
Those huts, those streets
Sprees and the treats
Elders the builders
Their land for the toil!
They reared us; troubles
Ever they did foil.
I loved that life
And the years I survived
In my childish gentle prank
Several times I sank
In recollections right
And take sweeter bite.
My heart does boil
I love that soil
As then and always
But been busy nowadays
In urban life and its run
And now,
My intent and my vow
Nothing can stun!
Thanks Tuck magazine for giving so much space in your beautiful journal.