Dinner at 7

People sit at the kitchen table, talking.
They feast on words.

They are shelling phrases,
Breaking them into two with precise dexterity.
Popping words into their mouths,
They munch slowly, but thoughtlessly.


People do not like people.
They sit across the kitchen table,
Hurl words at each other’s faces,
Smear the phrases, the broken sentences,
And laugh, keep on laughing,
As if laughing is all they know,
As if laughing will help them escape
Their miserable lives.

See how their mouths drool with words,
See how their eyes shine with words, wet in light.

There are people at the kitchen table,
And there is so much food left,
Scattered all around, half-eaten,
Tossed away in frenzy.

A swallow of juice or milk
In the fridge,
An apple left deserted
After first two bites.


People do not like people.
Still, they munch words, but not too loudly,
For they have said what they wanted,
For they have nothing new to say.


I sit quietly and watch them,
Measuring my silence with
A tablespoon of sugar.
Slowly they rise up. Though they go,
They leave some sort of residue
I can't put out of mind.

The leftover words stare back at me
Like old, forgotten memories.
I too stare at them, but without appetite.

Bibek Adhikari

Poetry by Bibek
Read 162 times
Written on 2017-08-31 at 06:48

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Well done!

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
I cannot praise this highly enough. Someday we will look back on these early poems of yours and say, "we knew him when . . ."

Whatever combination of raw talent and instinct it takes to be a poet, it's in you. Keep working hard.

This is an amazing metaphor which left me with a hundred vivid images. Great work.

This is brilliant!
I will read more of your work and probably wonder why I even bother myself (with writing)
I know it's gonna be a treat:)