July Online Open Mic
Fill your weekend with the euphonic poetry of Sushant Thapa! Step into the world he creates with his imagery.
Writing on the Broken Wall
Sometime back I read on the wall of my university: “Walls, the publishers of the poor.”
Today, I count the lockdown days
Numbering them in the calendar hung on my wall
Writing on the calendar hung on the wall
I am drawing lines of time
Unknown it is, my days
What if I count more than I will have?
This air is so thick to breathe
My heart is heavy like a stone
I am a poor man today
I wish to publish my writings on the wall
Only if the wall is broken,
For then, it will keep my plight straight
Broken will be the letters
Just like my broken plight
My sight has served me to see this world
My vision when I close my eyes will still see
This world divided by pandemic, hunger and ignorance
Across borders people have been moved by territories of their own
They want to reach home,
“Home, homeland and the pandemic” is
Bringing us together in what we have lost
Not losing the way back home we have found our existence it seems
So, I still wish to write on the broken wall.
The Old Man in the Rickshaw
He sees what others do not see,
he is on a journey.
Stationed homes and barricaded compounds
never knew his plight
Thin air blows and he is lost in it
His life was also stationed like stationed homes
when he was young and working
Now, he is out venturing
sitting in the rickshaw — he is no more
himself that he used to be.
How young is the rickshaw?
How old is he?
The road is muddy and the cool weather is blowing in the breeze
The old man is sitting in the rickshaw and chewing a gum,
the city seems new for him today.
It is his day — a day in his life
The young rickshaw puller is his friend
The road is his companion
His dog left him early
His wife was once so dearly
The city is still breathing and so is he,
in the rickshaw slow and steady
The old man is on a journey
The evening sun touches his face
He sees a half moon in the horizon,
some children dive into the pond
He waits in the rickshaw to be free and forever young.
The Taste of the Evening Tea
white milk foams till the rim of the tea cup
turning to creamy brown tea —
dark dips of tea leaves
blooms the color
I drink the color and the white rainy clouds
pour sweetness — measured in the tea cup
sugar coated vistas and hiatus of everyday
blooming reality grooms
in the sawdust of effervescent twilight
the orange sun is transparent in the
I gulp the sun and only the tea cup stands
as a fleeting memory
of the sun
which was like an image in the evening sky
a little while ago.
What makes meaning?
Is it the ever flowing stream of words that carry meaning?
Is it the concept that draws images in one’s mind, that makes meaning?
Does the idea so subtle and particular — tend to carry affection on its own?
Does it glow for the meaning as a whole?
Is meaning same for one and all?
How poetic can a poet be?
How interpreted can his meanings be?
What is left unsaid and unknown, how meaningful can that be?
What makes sense — is it always felt close?
Can senses be forever disclosed?
When at times unpoetic becomes the poet, where hides his words?
Where lies his feelings when in winding thoughts he is reeling?
Repeating the One Night Stand
Caught in the darkness of lonely lonesome day
the night sky is falling beneath the blanket,
incomplete to both of us.
Just like one cigarette
that kept burning in the ashtray
I burned in my insides too, and
like the ashes of the cigarette
my ashes scattered all over
blew out my insides
in the act and washed away the fumes,
as the ashes subsumed.
Beneath the chest of mine
I shared love with her — lies my ‘self’
so at unrest there.
I was once broken
the day was dark,
the night was cold and stories were — untold, but
the bed was unfold and manifold.
Sushant Thapa is an M.A. in English Literature from Jawaharlal Nehru University in New Delhi, India. He writes in English and the Nepali language. His English poems, essays, short stories and flash fictions have been published in print and online publications from Nepal and abroad including The Kathmandu Post and Republica Daily from Kathmandu, Nepal, The Writers Club or greythoughts.info from New Jersey, USA, Kitaab.org and Borderless Journal from Singapore. His Nepali poems have also appeared in print and online publications including Udghosh Daily of Biratnagar, Sahitya Post, firewordsdaily.com and khalipanna.com from Kathmandu, Nepal. Sushant revels in rock music, poetry, books and movies from his home in Biratnagar, Nepal.
Link to some of his poems, short stories and flash fictions are given below: