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.
Copyright
2003 Pushpa Ratna Tuladhar