Lovelorn at 18


She wanted not to be soft down there,

Not like a fig. She wanted to be

A woodpecker's beak—

Wishing to tear apart the men.


She wished to live

In a different era, in a different space.


She wanted to be hard ad infinitum,

Not merely wear a gentle decorum

To please the flush and excited men.


College was a sweet pie,

Without much of saccharine—

She was a bitter pulp,

Yet she wanted to rouse the appetite

Of greedy boys, of hungry men.


Drenched in sunlight,

She walked to and fro—

A Mediterranean artichoke—

People thought she'd never bear the fruit

She should bear,

People thought she was not technically

A woman.


But, somewhere in her mind, she knew

She'd find a man who’d chew on

Her fugitive scents, scamper up her body,

Grazing her clean, ingesting her ripe fruit whole.


She'd also love him back with a warm heart

And finally be warm-hearted in love.


She was 18—

Everything seemed possible then.




Lovelorn at 36


Taking no notice of the tin can tied to his tail,

He walks like a sick, stray dog.


The village women call away their children

When they see him passing

Through the trail between the bushes.


They recoil as if he is the Marquis de Sade in person.


With some hidden imprudence,

With an air of I-don’t-give-a-damn, no-not-I,


With some bitterness bobbling in his tail,

He walks, keeping the women away.


He thinks of manly tenderness,

Of womanly hardness,

And of everything in-between.


Wedging his face into their dark, secret places,

Eating their fugitive fruits, their flower buds—

He wants to struggle to breathe,

Inhale a little flame—yellow and brilliant—

And exhale fumes of nirvana.


He dreams of elation flowing inside him

Like the river of fire—

Flowing and endlessly flowing—

Sleeping himself to peace

With that little flame of tranquility

Still burning inside his careworn heart.



Bibek Adhikari  

Poetry by Bibek
Read 215 times
Written on 2018-11-17 at 14:13

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This is so difficult to comment upon!
Why? You might ask ....
Well my response .... it is so damn fine it makes a mockery of any trite comment I might proffer!

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Your way with imagery and suggestion is powerful. Well done.