Two poems by Bibek Adhikari

teachings of my guru

my guru came to my place once

banged on the door, walked inside

and slumped down on my arm-chair

flickered through the books on my table

and asked me the difference between

a phrasal verb and an idiom

i gave him the answer--honest

but he made his face and turned sour

for he wanted to fathom the depths of my knowledge

with a question as stupid as a lamb

he then drank the water from the bottle

and laughed a hysterical laugh

he happened to see my poems

out of the blue, in my blue-diary

"You write great. You are a genius." He spat out.

Got up

looked at me with eyes full of envy and hatred

(even in all of my nights his eyes frighten the hell out of me

as i see them up in the ceiling

when i lay on my bed to sleep)

then

he walked out and slammed the door so hard

that i felt the ground beneath me

crumble and swallow me up

i had the desire to burst into tears

surging up within me.

(and a desire to kick his goddamn ass

so hard that he would never slump on my chair again)

Life

My body, now warm and capable

Of earnest grasping,

But, if it were cold . . .

And lay in the silence of my tomb,

Would it haunt your days?

And chill your dreaming nights?

I wish my own heart ran dry of blood

So in my veins,

Red life should never stream again.