Basko

Basko Sep 2013

The grove we walked,
your hand in mine
nothing has changed in time
except the fact that when they'll be sun
you'd be looking at the moon then on

The grove shone, but not with sunshine
because it is gone, somewhere down the line
but what remains is the warmth,
you left in palms
is the sweetness of your subtle word that calms,
a weary heart that mourns

In this reminisces
it was the grove that shone
and this grove
i walk alone

To a princess across the oceans, who stares at different skies than which i look up to

Basko Sep 2013

The winds are gone

The winds were here,
a second ago they were swirling
The dazzled dance of the air
and in my hair it was whirling
And it left
it was gone
And i could not have kept
within my enclosed palms
because it was gone
opposite to the direction had it blown

Just like you, it gave me chills and went on
The winds are gone

Basko Sep 2013

When i stopped

When i stopped dreaming
the skies lost its color
it was grey
and the sunshine stopped beaming
and hopes lost their honor
when i stopped to pray

The pasture on the sides of the hill
and the air that pass lay still
with no utterance i made
sound of music never played
when i stopped to play

And then words were lost
and invisible
no benefits, no costs
on people so gullible
there was no strength
no might
when i stopped to write

Basko Sep 2013

What i had asked

I had told you
in the field of grass
when dragonflies hovered by
not to break my heart and never to
cease this moment in which passed
an eternity lasted under the sky
i dont know, what forever meant
anymore

But all i asked was not to break
my heart, and myself
but you broke both in precision
its better to be burnt
alive and at stake
and to feel a little less
tried to save a girl,
from all her nightmares
but it hurt instead

Waiting to fall out of love?
You already have
its me who pain you gave
who's afraid to love again

Basko Sep 2013

Ma's words

Ma said, indifferently different
from the way she usually speaks
This time her lesson made amendments
into my consciousness, at its peak

"No, my little prince,
none shall accept you,
and no one will ever since
because that's what people do

"I am sorry too, my son
we dont come from a happy family
but we are not the only one
Yet we cant ever see
what it is to be happy
Because it is inevitable
that our lives have to be in gloom
When everything in spring is stable
its our bud that dies before it bloom

"They look at us, like outcasts
forget it that we were once royal
because just as how time pasts
it is not people that are loyal
but its our pride itself
which, with time
has died itself"

My Ma and i lived through hard times together, she is a single mother and my dad abandoned her a long time ago, these are her exact words, that i put in rhyme...she meant being raised with a single mother is hard...i now see why

Basko Sep 2013

Mahendra of Nepal

I rose, I saw
and I saw the flaw
of what i left my countrymen in
But I decided to rise
Despite my demise
thinking i was dead
but not fallen

But little had i know
that my bloodline would be cast away
and all my subjects go astray
Like the ash-dust in my silver ash tray
they lay contaminated as i blow
the smoke is ceaseless,
as it burns in the eyes of my subjects
But their conscience rejects

As my Royal Stature fell
to my weak heart i had which
i gave away 'till it went stale
and wounds were deeper to stitch
after years of my departure
But in this rupture
of my throne and of the crown
It's not my palace or town,
that is in debris
It is my kingdom

Tribute to King Mahendra of Nepal, after whose demise the country never witnessed lasting peace and order...I never saw him, because i wasnt even born then, but to hear the words of the then generation, the world lost their Last Asian Monarch

Basko Sep 2013

My cousin's inquisition

He asked me
"Basko, whats life about?
What is it about?"
Life is to live my cousin
why such doubt?

"To live? but how?"
To live till your breath shall allow
"But brother of mine,
do we live to breathe and waste time?"

Waste time? time is not your possession
Time cannot take an intervention
and cannot be used
It flows and blows
never hurt,
never bruised.
It simply
moves