Bhuwan Thapaliya

The contributor for Republica.
news@myrepublica.com

If you were, never to say

Published On: March 10, 2020 04:19 PM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

“If you were never to say,  “I love you,” then my darling, I would paint the Sun with the Moon and the Moon with the Sun.

We are waiting

Published On: February 21, 2020 12:33 PM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

“ The winter has arrived,” said my mother, bracing against the frigid Annapurna’s wind and the spitting snow.

Nothing changes

Published On: February 12, 2020 12:00 PM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

if you don’t change yourself and your perception towards almost everything. As I get older, I am beginning

Grandfather's grey beard

Published On: February 4, 2020 04:30 PM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

Long before the dawn, my grandfather’s whooping cough

Hope

Published On: January 29, 2020 08:11 AM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

I lie down by the river Sunkoshi stretching my arms toward eternity in search of you with the stars in my eyes

Shame on us

Published On: January 22, 2020 05:39 PM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

The heart of the democracy is cracked open, parched and sun-dried. And its soul has been encroached as the public land in the Kathmandu Valley.

Where are your lips?

Published On: January 16, 2020 03:00 PM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

I don’t believe in a mere freedom,

Barren Paper

Published On: January 9, 2020 02:15 PM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

A pallid sheet of paper teases me with its randy glare,

A bottle of you

Published On: January 3, 2020 01:36 PM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

I often carry with me, a bottle. And at tense moments, when the Moon sweats

Future

Published On: December 16, 2019 05:10 PM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

As a gust of wind sends the curtains flapping wildly, I wonder about our future. The future is signaling us to go back. The Future is telling us to stop where we are now. But we pretend not to hear.

Grandeur of poetry

Published On: December 27, 2018 11:18 AM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

It takes tons of time to compose an ounce of poetry. But when it is composed

A glass of my mind

Published On: December 25, 2018 09:21 AM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

All these years, I have been telling wine, not to drink me.

Come

Published On: December 20, 2018 11:29 AM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

Come, come and sit beside me And watch the tides Making the wind visible By dancing along with it. Come, come beloved!

A glass of my mind

Published On: December 13, 2018 01:15 PM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

All these years, I have been telling wine, Not to drink me. “If you drink me, then my friend, You shall not be able to walk at all.”

Then blew the wind

Published On: December 5, 2018 12:08 PM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

The night was warm and beautiful  and the air was crammed with love.  It was a scene of an idyllic beauty An ideal reminiscent of a Monet painting.

You’re the literature of my life

Published On: November 28, 2018 09:41 AM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

I am neither moving nor stationary. Yet, I see you everywhere, and see All things in you. You are the brightness. Neither the Sun nor the fire is brighter than you.

What type of poem am i?

Published On: August 23, 2018 10:08 AM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

“What type of poem am I?” I am as formless as the clouds, and as elegiac as the silence, in the itinerary of the noise.

Kavre

Published On: June 11, 2018 10:12 AM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

In Kavre, near the village, ‘ Baluwa’, I heard the chatter of young kids

Please tell her this

Published On: April 12, 2018 08:07 AM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

Someone has secretly kissed my hands, and left in my core, a seed of love. Someone has secretly stolen my tears, and left in my eyes, a fountain of hope.

There is only love

Published On: February 22, 2018 09:47 AM NPT By: Bhuwan Thapaliya

Grasping her hands closely, I halt my heart  At the edge of her lips and stare deeper inside