Himal Limbu
My half written essay was on the shelf
Blotted lines and a crosscut love letter
Were smudged like dirty dish or delph
Thence, themes literally did not matter.
*
Tragicomedy of failure and strife
Just scribed; could not be performed.
Noting down the tragedy of my life
Melodrama was utterly deformed.
*
‘The Luckier’ was partly scribbled
A novella about a life by chance.
Freytag’s pyramid was dribbled;
Motif of motion was sheer sans.
*
No crayon could draw my notions
In the forms of lyric and poetry;
No rhapsody sang my emotions
Musing symphony and symmetry.
*
My felt-tip pen ran out of ink
While sketching my biography;
I could not create any link
To myself in a bibliography.
*
Some pieces of my hard luck story
Had no resolution after climax
Revealing the tales of my mystery
Signed off conflicts to a death hex.
*
[Himal Limbu is an English teacher at SAM, Dharan aspiring to poetry reading and writing. This poem depicts his passion in literature but frustration of not doing something remarkable.]
Literature of My Life
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