Archives‎ > ‎Issue Four‎ > ‎

Haris Adhikari

The cavity

with a stick
a stinking decayed present
on the pavement

came a small boy
in tattered dreams, nagging
for a rupee or two. 
He interested me 
as I saw myself 
drifting in his eyes.
He had a hunger bit tongue
and clear cavities
on his tiny palms.

I then 
had just a coin
that I could spare.
I gave it to him.
The coin went in the hole
and became a pebble 
like the ones scattered 

down in the street.

He seemed sad
as I walked on

and now this poem.

Light, my clutch

I look up towards the sky
and keep looking

at the stars
twinkling slowly.

They twinkle on their own
which I cannot. My eyes
can never shine
in total darkness.

Would you like to be a bird?

When you enter the room, you see
a panicked dove
fluttering here and there.

Your presence is another cage for him
and you have two options.

If you’ve ever wished to be a bird yourself,
oh, my friend, this very moment is the time!

Haris is from Nepal. He is a graduate in English and American literature from Tribhuvan University. A member of The Society of Nepali Writers in English, he is a teacher of English by profession. Also, he is the editor of Misty Mountain Review, an online journal of short poetry. His poems have appeared in The Enchanting Verses Literary Review, Mad Swirl, Of Nepalese Clay, Poddle (Poddle Publications, Dublin), Locust Magazine, Snow Monkey Journal, The Applicant, and Cuckoo Quarterly, among others. His other works are coming up in Essence Poetry Journal.  To read his other poems, visit this link: