From pieces to peace

From pieces to peace

Press me down with dignity
Throw me far with security
Bury me deep with loyalty
Break me into pieces with integrity
And from dust shall I rise
From pieces will I surprise
The folks with cheers
For I come back stonger
Out of tears and fears
And much younger to live longer.

The Rainbow in the Darkness

The Rainbow in the Darkness

Come my dear to the land of fireflies
The moon has awaken the sleeping stars
The birds fast asleep and so the beasts.
Lift your feet like you walk on clouds
Among the flowers and tender leaves.
Should you trust and walk by my side
You shall hear the songs in their snores
Drunk with sleep and their own scents mixed
Above our heads in harmonies move.

We shall tiptoe the forest floor
Lit up blue with the fireflies' torch
Lined like lamp posts along the path
To the realm of silence, the eternal bliss.

Tell me then your saddest tale
Of broken heart and of sterile dreams
I shall seal my lips and listen
Till the tale ends with your tears
And start anew with my tears afresh.
Then moon shall witness the union of hearts
As tears fall and unite above the ground
The fireflies' glow and the shadow of tears
Create shimmering rainbow in the silent darkness.

Source: On the Wings of Wind, Anthology of Soul's Whispers Vol. III  phddorji.blogspot.com

There is Friendship...

There is Friendship...

There is friendship in the wood
All we need is a brightened mood
And a will to walk the silent forest
When flowers sleep into fathomless rest.

There is friendship in the mountain
All we need is a hope for the fountain
And a will to climb the steepy steeps
When birds are tired and out of chirps.

There is friendship in the rivers
All we need is to hear its whispers
And a heart to walk the bank with ease
When fishes are against the tide for peace.

There is friendship in the air
All we need is a trust and care
And a soul to feel its gentle caress
When arms are open and warm for embrace.

Source: On the Wings of Wind, Anthology of Soul's Whisper Vol. III    phddorji.blogspot.com

Never from now

Never from now

Never have I felt so low the way I feel today
I can't keep the scars for faith  and pains for joy at bay.
Never will I lose my glow the way I lost today
Hard though now to stop the tears from raining right away.

Never did I hear the voice the way I heard today
I can't weep for whole night long  and laugh the light astray.
Forever will I make a choice like one I made today
Even evil's soul must find its way out in dismay.

The Midnight Pleas

The Midnight Pleas

I am not the frozen-feet guest
Who walks by night and vanish in haste
If warmth of my heart be felt on your chest
Can pleasure be concealed beneath your breast?
Forget the folks and folktales of jest
Our throbs shall echo the moment of blest!

The blush on your cheeks should replace the light
Under the blanket as we cuddle in delight
Some pushes of yours would make the moment bright
As I shove my fingers into spots deemed right
Close your eyes and disappear into moonlight
Rainbows in darkness shall only be the sight.

My foot shall measure the length of your feet
Please play dead until they meet
Hear my breath not for wisdom or wit
Attend your turn to try and repeat
I won't hurry or reach for the kit
Before I hear thunder from your heart beat.

Then in unison lets forget the time
When season is ripe and blessed the clime
And rejoice to brim when our ages at prime.
The melody from the moves shall sound like a rhyme
And the shadows on the wall shall stand for a mime
Until we squeeze the last drop of our lime.

Source: On the Wing's of Wind, Anthology of Soul's Whispers-Vol. III.  phddorji.blogspot.com

A Woman's Heart

(To all the women far and near, as long as your kind walk on this earth, every new day is A GREAT DAY to celebrate to honour your unmatched strenghts.)

A Woman's Heart

She is just a lowly stone
The one you step on and forgotten when gone.
With hammer like words break her to powder
Into soil she changes as your tone gets louder
And with time she resurrects to stone of toughness
Unless you dissolve her heart to nothingness.

She is just a lowly stone
Used in need and discarded for lone
With fire like words burn her to ashes
Into soil she gathers from the burnt down trashes
And with time she resurrects to stone of toughness
Unless you dissolve her heart to nothingness.

She is but a lowly stone
Left on the path you move like a cyclone
With wind like words blow her afar
Into soil she settles without trace of a scar
And with time she resurrects to stone of toughness
Unless you dissolve her heart to nothingness

She is but a lowly stone
Your feet rubs until it's worn
With river like words wash her off-shore
Into soil she transforms from the sands of yore
And with time she resurrects to stone of toughness
Unless you dissolve her heart to nothingness

She is but a lowly stone
With hammer like words break her to powder
With fire like words burn her to ashes
With wind like words blow her afar
With river like words wash her off-shore
Time shall resurrect her to stone of toughness
And nothing can dissolve her heart to nothingness.

Source: On the Wings of Wind, Antnology of Soul's Whispers-Voll. III
phddorji.blogspot.com

The Cricket's Tricks

The Cricket's Tricks

I walked the thicket, thick and thin
Followed the cricket  crick its chin
"Catch my 'cacos' and collect my calls"
Said she with her sharp shrewed strolls.

Like a lazy lass lethergically on loose
I march the mud through muddy marsh
Picked her trails like a trapped, trembling goose
And lost at last to the lustful lush.

From the distant darkness dared she jeers
My falls and follies and frights and fears
This minute mischief minature though size
Tricks triple the toughness of talented wise!

Wine and Sorrow

Like  splattered paints on the rugged floor
Deep with color, dull though art
The sky turned dark and so his mood
From lonesome pain to fearsome sore
In thoughts of love and hearts apart
Moaned his soul in doleful brood.

In a candle-lit corner stiff he sat
Starring his copy on bottles shown
The wrinkled lips in his frozen thoughts
Sunk his jaws in distant wait.
Conscience fell like a breaking bone
Wrestling his breath for the losing bouts.

The ale was but an emotional cage
Buried were pains yet scars abare,
The wrinkle lines were painted red
With wine borne sorrows adding rage.
He stood with head bent above fear
And took his way his trembling feet led.

Dear friend

Dear friend
             My prayers and best wishes accompany you and shall remain with you for all the ages to come. All the best in your coming endeavours. KEEP GREEN AND BE SEEN.
             I will with all the reasons feel empty in your absence. But this emptiness of mine shall be filled with the memories of fraternal ties we shared.  You have shown me the power of resillience before the adversities, strength of ignorance before the emotional calamities, and the passion of tolerance before the atrocities. I shall with all my mights, strive to disincline from such clinging trifles of life.
              Thanks for the warmth you have shown through your unprecedented brotherhood amity. Thanks for the care you have shown through your unpurterbed flow of texts and messages. I am once again reassured that this world indeed has people with the hearts bigger than the size of the world itself. Keep smiling like always. It at times, guides the straying minds of the struggling hearts.
                No good bye for now.

With best wishes
Phub Dorji

New Victory Theater Blog: Everything I Need to Know, I Learned from Shakespeare: 50 Lessons from the Bard

New Victory Theater Blog: Everything I Need to Know, I Learned from Shakespeare: 50 Lessons from the Bard

The Nature Boy

The Nature Boy

A boy of six walked before me
Crossed my path in  stunning mess
Hanging mucus on his nose
Like frozen dew on wintry bough.
He browned his head in soil-smoked play
Blew off bubbles as he breathes
His face was buried with brown soil
The tears ran down his sunken eyes
Drawing furrows through his cheeks
And sinking above his desert chin.

On the Wings of Wind

On the Wings of Wind

I don’t fear to grow anew

Finding solace in solitude grew

It isn't soft but ably I chew

The memories I weave yet never few

My wings flap full on conscience true

Passions high at patience adieu.

Your nuts are safe

Your nuts are safe

I have heard my uncle say
A simple truth on Farmers' day.
He said it plain but clear and loud
To two if counted him for crowd.

Make a garden in your field 

Plant some nuts and wait for yield.

You have nuts but monkeys feed
Let no anger breed like weed.

If with heart your field be filled
Nuts grow for a plenty yield.
Fences stands no defenses build
From monkeys if no monkeys shield.

A nut from field and a monkey trapped
An organic catch if plan be matched.
Chain him high to a pole mid field
Your nuts are safe, just be thrilled!

Happy Teachers' Day (2nd May, 2014)

Happy Teachers' Day (2nd May, 2014)

To all my Teachers, past and present

The world has become a beautiful place

To live and lead a life so pleasant 

With your love and gracious grace

Embedded in your attitude in diverged magnitude

Exposed through teaching and disposed through guidance

I with  pleasure pay my gratitude

And submit before you in devoted obedience.

                                                           HAPPY TEACHERS' DAY

                                                     "To teach is to learn first"  

                                 Teachers of Trongsa Primary School, (Walking the Ant walk)

Cover

The birth of Anthology of Soul's Whisper....

Cover: Anthology of Soul's Whisper, Vol. I

Design: Thinley Jorden (2009)

A Bird on the Bough

A Bird on the Bough

On one Sunday as I say

It was not a fine sun day

The sky roared in angry tone

And frightened the bird that lived alone.

Quickly was I soaked in rain?

As I placed my feet in vain

Lightening snapped my ugly shape

Thunder joined to jeer with claps.

I and the friend trees trembled hard

The branches broke and fell with thud

Only a small bird on the bough

Perching firm was what I saw.

The Tears

The Tears

I have now but scattered dreams

Cherished with the broken screams.

I am strong for distant eyes

Far are their ears afar from cries.

I pile words with scornful taste

Draw my feelings in rest to waste.

Now I file it in a poem

To end it like a bursting foam.

I am with my broken tears

Dropping easy void of cares.

Pray this pensive mood last never

My tears shall run to flood the river.

The Freedom

The Freedom

I was put in a pot and boiled

With onion, beans and tomatoes 

He oiled and cheesed us as if with care

Dropping water as he smiles.

He pushed us slow but  strange and hard

With novice knowledge, a condemned cook.

I floated  in the salted pond

Cold at first but burning slow

Fellow onions choked me stiff

Changing yellow with stinks to sniff 

Tattooed tomatoes blurred my sight

While bony beans entangled my legs

I swum my way but never out

As friendship turned to a survival bout.

We worked our ways to  different corners

Cops like cheese chained us never apart

The lid came atop and took our sun 

Drowning us under nights's dull cover.
Our bones fell apart and identity lost
With blood and flesh uniformly at mess
We felt our instinct sink in a wink
As we shrunk for the final blink.

My master forgot to set us free

Praising business that  keeps him busy

He charred us black and choked us dead

And left us perish in his forgetfulness. 

My soul rose from the amber afresh

Sensing freedom quick at last.

He ran to us in curse of my smell

Coughing high with half closed eyes.

Quick my Master took off the  lid

I jumped out fast and loitered as lead

My soul ran through his empty room

Foggy with our escaped souls

I caught my path through crack in the door

Marched with pride in all neighbors' rooms

They coughed common in a melodious  tune

We danced our final freedom song. 

My master be cursed, I sense it soon. 

Heard it loud the neighbors' whine

We  looked our last and followed the moon

Left our master cook curse to dine.

Successful Failure

Successful Failure

Now I pull my gallery out,
Of failure and success without doubt
For people clever and ready to mock
The skill we run not out of stock
Throw me all your bitter-harsh curse
It wont paint my heart with scars
Do not hence forth, live with quote
You learnt long and still promote
For failures now are never the steps
Nor a success; distance or gaps.

My failures stretch like a blanket of snow
Success springs few with weakened glow
I be qualified if as example used
For failure for failures in me housed
I am surprised yet never at all
It is my but normal fall
Failing is my regular pride
A constant act and upright tide
If life be built with mixture of both
Will beauty find the texture and growth?

The Beggar's Cup

The Beggar's Cup

I watched quietly an old man blind
Not just once but always find
On the bridge way seated kind
Doubly was his life confined
Lame and blind his tale combined.

In haste came a gentle smart
The perfect print of Nature's art
He walked pass the blind man's heart
Stirred the wind with his perfumed shirt
Ashamed the dust and the floating dirt.

He flung a  coin with ringing sound
Missed the cup and hit the ground
Quickly did he turn around
Blushing reddish as he frowned
And caught my eyes on him dumbfound.

Did i say the heart is cup
For a man who can't stand up?
The act of smart shall timeless harp
Haunts his life with old man's burp
And feel the same cramp, quick and sharp.

The Moon

The Moon

From the crumpled curtain of cloud
Peeps the chastised virgin of bliss
To mock at ugly,  earthly soul
Burnt by sun in toil on soil.

From carpet of cloud she stands and stares
With blink-less looks and sensual sights
She sees it all at one quick glance
Yet crave it daily  for second chance.

Wasted in  her  maiden madness
Obsessed in her nightly peep-shows,
She sleeps through days in memories of nights
Her soul is soiled and chastity spoiled.

The Guest

The Guest

The haze and buzz I hardly hear
Of sleepy mosquito on his lip
I sit and wonder as I stare
The tiny guest too quick to sleep

He moves his lips with reasons known
And does the guest in same rhythm dance
Either of them be taken for clown
If quick glance miss the buried lance

Out he pulls to circle his tongue
In goes the head of guest in sleep
Dances danced but songs unsung
Only have I but reasons to weep!



(lance: spear for hunting or fishing: a long pointed spear used in hunting or fishing. synonyms: spear · weapon · bayonet · javelin. Lance=sting of a mosquito in this poem)

Death of a Mossy Mouse

Death of a Mossy Mouse

The lovely vale was covered with fog

Cold, wet and dead like log.

The frowning look of angry sky

Colored my way with filthy dye.

My heart raced the darkened white

Of lazy snow, the hazy sight.

I dragged my legs to feel more number

Above the earth of sick December.

Freezing heel with stinking toes

Landed hard on a weathered rose

Crushing flat the sheltered guest;

A mossy mouse in a drunken haste.

The Crow

The Crow 

Show me what is white in you
You are clean for sure to say
I shall take the sayings untrue
You feast not the rotting prey!

We look up for glimpse awesome
You perch high in majestic style
Bother not the brother worms
You have all the reasons to smile.

Calm your caws and seize your egos
Your songs are but a choking note
Men aim high with raising brows
To stone you ground with exact shot.

The last day

The last day

Should we waste the time on past

Shedding tears of failures vast?

Or crave for love in hungry lust

In ceaseless time through movement fast?

Building shattered dreams to burst

Nursing battered wounds to trust

Should never in history last

As we near for change to dust!

Come my love before we rust

Our acts be put on things we must

To quench the dreams of unvoiced thirst

And change the day lest we combust. 

On the Wings of Wind

Wordsworth's "…the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings" still stands the test of time and finds the place in modern definition, "Poetry is the chiseled marble of language; it's a paint-spattered canvas - but the poet uses words instead of paint, and the canvas is you", as expressed by Mark Flanagan. 

Poetry teaches us the techniques to understand people as Amy Lowell in his essay 'Why We Should Read Poetry' mentioned, "...we know man in all his moods -- in the most beautiful thoughts of his heart, in his farthest reaches of imagination, in the tenderness of his love, in the nakedness and awe of his soul confronted with the terror and wonder of the Universe." Understanding the meaning of the words in the poem is of less important than feeling the feelings attached in it. 

This site is designed to encourage the readers to experience the displaced feelings of a misplaced being. The Anthology of Soul’s Whisper is a ‘dateless’ diary of picture in words with feelings and emotions wept and laughed at different episodes of life. It is an album in which the incidences (sweet and sour) are captured and displayed. 

A poem to me is the picture of the poet. Only with the eyes of a poet can we but find his picture in his words. I cannot guarantee the presence of ‘logic of the imagination’ as T.S. Eliot (1975, p. 77) sated but with certainty I urge you to read it to discover the follies of a poem without ‘logic’ or ‘imagination’ in it. It is worth the read…