From September 28, 2016. 

From the Terrace


From my terrace, watching rice plants below

Sway in the spring breeze—


Morning sun slants, spreading out,

The wilderness rises up to me—

Tall upon the terrace,

Surrounded by slovenly lowlands.


On distant highways,

Vehicles, like tin shacks, drift by.

By huddled houses, I hear

A screech of hunger on a transistor radio.


I am of one mind

Like a broken tree

In the middle of fields of rice.


A black raven sits on a nearby tree,

Then whirls in the spring breeze,

Soars to the sky,

Settling on the back of my mind.


My eyes swim with vague terror—

I hear incoherent scraps of talk

And see brief movements of hands,

Like the nervous raven’s wings.


Atop the wrought iron railing I stand—

A vortex of thoughts sneers at me.

Like yesterday’s old, stinking clothes

I cast off my past, inhale the present air,

And make the fatal plunge into the pool of future.



Bibek Adhikari 

Poetry by Bibek
Read 212 times
Written on 2018-09-28 at 10:37

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Rajesh Budhathoki
I fancied the imageries powdered in the poem. The speaker is enforced to "cast off " his past and "plunge into the pool of future" willingly or unwillingly. Yet readers get mystified by his experiences. All the best, poet!

Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
I was enjoying your view of the rice paddies, the people, the cars, and even the Raven, which I happen to like for they are so very intelligent, and in my part of the world, a sign of good luck.
But then the intensity rises when you are on the railing ... and then the great ending. Very graphic poem that holds the reader in suspense. I like it.

Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Alert diction, secure cadence, and a painterly attention to the world around you! Bravo!