Older poems, also from Nepal.

The Captive, The Lover and The Beast ... or so I was told?
Three poems, in one part:

Surrounded by a sleeping city,
I gaze upon oh brightest night,
Only the animals are brave enough,
To come out and suffer,
While the devils prefer the light of day for play.

Oh lonely moon lonely moon,
Why has the city hidden you away,
Couldn't you break free a night?
Just for me,
Your illicit lover.

City you make me feel ...
So dark,
So alive,
So free ...
And they wonder why I stalk your streets at night.


Screw it:

Screw love
Screw life
Screw dancing
        singing
        partying

Screw her
Screw you
Screw hookups
         relationships
         breakups

Screw the ups
Screw the downs
Screw the good
         the bad
         the indiferent

But most of all
screw me
for not ordering two glasses.

 
Ten liters of life, and one tiny funnel:

I drink to blot out the sun,
It rarely works,

I drink when I'm not drinking,
With the intent to not drink,
Or so I am told?

I drink to erase the memory; memories of girls,
Occasionally it works,

I drink to muster the courage to talk to girls,
Those nights tend to be long and arduous,
Or so I thought?

I drink to live,
This continues to work,

I raise a glass to fitting in,
And for the deluded experiential side of life,
Or so I recollect?