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Updated:  11/12/08
 
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04/09/04
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Quintessence Of Quiescent
Pushpa R. Tuladhar

Up the polished ceiling above my bed
In my bedroom resting for a while,
A camouflaged lizard crawls his webbed feet
With dead silence in his spider tongue
Hunting a fly nearby in languorous mood
So unconscious of to-be catastrophe
Bony spine of mine chills enough
To freeze my whole body like an ice
For the certainty of yet another calamities
Befalling on my quiet turbid heart
At any moments of my present life.

My desire to rest for a while with
My frightened and horror-stricken mind
Strives to take up its clothes of fright and horror
As if torched with mother of bomb
Runs naked towards the camera lens
With my screams frozen in frame
That unknowingly and unconsciously adheres
To the severe fading wall of my bedroom.

That portrait of mine destined to hide its reality
Sinks in time warped depth of ocean
Damped with futuristic dirt and dust
Wailing a digger to reveal the quintessence of
An embryonic present matured to rare earth
Out of an ovary of pregnant futurity.


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