Toya Gurung
DeepTerraces down the hill,A couple of shapely damselsFrom BhirboteDiverting water into the canalTurn by turn in a mutual exchange of labourWith the boys...
Hemant Biwas
Like a motherWho, winding strands of patienceLifts her sickly child all along the wayUntil she reaches the hospital doorsI also carried clay smeared...
Hemant Kandel
Showing courtesy for my woundsPitying on my situation with all their goons,Scrambling my mood through rough fateWhat’s all they for care till this...
Prabesh Chapagain
Thrust into ‘becoming’, this existence: a paradox it seems!Where life and death in two spectrums,Ever toys with the ‘being’ in question.
Suckling on life’s...
Bal Krishna Sama
My love, I am completely healed,and the body cent-percent lightenedeven more than a fallen flower.Why do you stilllet the torrents of tears...
Asif Altaf
Not just beautyEven within the abomination lies the craftsmanship of art
The butcher's chapati is a flower-like arrangement of meat in bunches;
The bullet that...
Akash Mamon
Not only once, twice, thrice many times love burntBoyhood love, immature love, matured loveLove has a lifetime like lifeLove finds an end like...
 Rupsingh BhandariThe blurred mapIn her faceThe entangled lines over lines areHiding the geography of painAnd the history of struggles… An age is forcefully evaporatinglike a...
