Tag Archives: Pasang Dawa Lama Sherpa

World Poetry Youth Team: Pasang Dawa Lama Sherpa!


World Poetry’s newest youth team member, talented musician and upcoming poet!

“My name is Pasang Dawa Lama Sherpa. I come from the North Eastern Himalayan region of Nepal. I grew up in a Buddhist school established by Very Venerable Khenchen Thrangu Rinpoche in Nepal to provide food, shelter and modern education for poor Himalayan children . The objective of the school is also to promote Himalayan culture and the Buddhist way of life. 

I was offered with full scholarship to complete my grades 11 and 12 at the Inter-Community School of Zurich and I am currently an SFU undergraduate student enrolled in the faculty of Electronical Engineering.”

Pasang wanted to share a famous  poet from Nepal with you. He plans on writing his own soon.

A brief bio about the Poet:

Devkota has contributed to Nepali literature by bringing the Sanskrit tradition to its apex and by starting modern romantic movement in the country. Devkota was the first to begin writing epics in Nepali literature and his magnum opusMuna-Madan” remains a best seller even fifty years after his death. He is recognized as one of the greatest Nepali writers and his work is in the same level of standard as any of the greats of literature in any language. He also served as Nepal’s Education Minister, and was a professor at Tri-Chandra College.


Oh yes, friend! I’m crazy-
that’s just the way I am.

I see sounds,
I hear sights,
I taste smells,
I touch not heaven but things from the underworld,
things people do not believe exist,
whose shapes the world does not suspect.
Stones I see as flowers
lying water-smoothed by the water’s edge,
rocks of tender forms
in the moonlight
when the heavenly sorceress smiles at me,
putting out leaves, softening, glistening,
throbbing, they rise up like mute maniacs,
like flowers, a kind of moon-bird’s flowers.
I talk to them the way they talk to me,
a language, friend,
that can’t be written or printed or spoken,
can’t be understood, can’t be heard.
Their language comes in ripples to the moonlit Ganges banks,
ripple by ripple-
oh yes, friend! I’m crazy-
that’s just the way I am.

You’re clever, quick with words,
your exact equations are right forever and ever.
But in my arithmetic, take one from one-
and there’s still one left.
You get along with five senses,
I with a sixth.
You have a brain, friend,
I have a heart.
A rose is just a rose to you-
to me it’s Helen and Padmini.
You are forceful prose
I liquid verse.
When you freeze I melt,
When you’re clear I get muddled
and then it works the other way around.
Your world is solid,
mine vapor,
yours coarse, mine subtle.
You think a stone reality;
harsh cruelty is real for you.
I try to catch a dream,
the way you grasp the rounded truth of cold, sweet coin.
I have the sharpness of the thorn,
you of gold and diamonds.
You think the hills are mute-
I call them eloquent.
Oh yes, friend!
I’m free in my inebriation-
that’s just the way I am.

I see the blind man as the people’s guide,
the ascetic in his cave a deserter;
those who act in the theater of lies
I see as dark buffoons.
Those who fail I find successful,
and progress only backsliding.
am I squint-eyed,
Or just crazy?
Friend, I’m crazy.
Look at the withered tongues of shameless leaders,
The dance of the whores
At breaking the backbone on the people’s rights.
When the sparrow-headed newsprint spreads its black lies
In a web of falsehood
To challenge Reason-the hero in myself-
My cheeks turn red, friend,
red as molten coal.
When simple people drink dark poison with their ears
Thinking it nectar-
and right before my eyes, friend!-
then every hair on my body stands up stiff
as the Gorgon’s serpent hair-
every hair on me maddened!
When I see the tiger daring to eat the deer, friend,
or the big fish the little,
then into my rotten bones there comes
the terrible strength of the soul of Dadhichi
and tries to speak, friend,
like the stormy day crashing down from heaven with the lightning.
When man regards a man
as not a man, friend,
then my teeth grind together, all thirty-two,
top and bottom jaws,
like the teeth if Bhimasena.
And then
red with rage my eyeballs rool
round and round, with one sweep
like a lashing flame
taking in this inhuman human world.
My organs leap out of theirs frames-
uproar! Uproar!
my breathing becomes a storm,
my face distorted, my brain on fire, friend!
with a fire like those that burn beneath the sea,
like the fire that devours the forests,
frenzied, friend!
as one who would swallow the wide world raw.
Oh yes, my friend,
the beautiful chakora am I,
destroyer of the ugly,
both tender and cruel,
the bird that steals the heaven’s fire,
child of the tempest,
spew of the insane volcano,
terror incarnate.
Oh yes, friend,
my brain is whirling, whirling-
that’s just the way I am.

Laxmi Prasad Devkot (c)

World Poetry Youth Team Member Kimberly Tsan!


World Poetry welcomes another member of our talented youth team Kimberly Tsan! To listen to Kimberly’s interview on the radio with a greeting and a poem in Chinese: CLICK HERE! The  featured e-poem is from Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah, Ghana.

 If you want to become a member of the World Poetry Youth Team, contact Ariadne Sawyer at: ariadnes@uniserve.com. We also wish to welcome a new  World Poetry youth member originally from Nepal, Pasang Dawa Lama Sherpa.

“Kimberly is a third year university student at UBC, who, upon finishing her first semester as a nerdy English literature major, hungrily begs for more. Throughout her excruciating (but fruitful) post-secondary education, she gradually decides that she shall be (drum roll) a writer with a very specific voice. Someone who writes for the sole purpose of examining and exposing our world as it is, someone who has interesting thoughts to share. But having that said, most of the time, she’s just herself—writing about her incessant school life and spending the remaining minutes philosophizing, whining and/or eating. At the moment, she pursues a future that will involve the following: 1.) Creative and artistic expression. 2.) Writing. 3.) Charity and non-profit work. 4.) Relentless gummy bear chewing (she’s been a helpless addict for years.) 

Most likely, though, she’ll probably end up in a place with incredible people who are capable of tolerating her random goofy fits. If you have time, please check out her blog at http://kimtsan.wordpress.com–you shall be generously rewarded with Kim’s sparkly eyes of gratitude.” 

The World Poetry Youth Team will be reading at: HOLD ON TO YOUR TOUGUE!, Celebration for International Mother Language day on Saturday February 18, 2012 between 12pm-5pm.  Exhibition Hall at the Roundhouse Community Arts and Recreation Centre located at 181 Roundhouse Mews, Vancouver, BC. Free. All welcome!

Don’t Fight the System

You heart recognizes it before your mind does. Over
the years it has decoded the language of your soul, deconstructed
the patterns of your behaviour and systemized your
various reactions and thoughts. In order to ensure survival
it strategizes your emotions and efficiently segregates
your truest feelings so you react appropriately the
things that it considers too good to be true or
things that will certainly do you more harm than good.

Its calculations are nearly always exact, immutable
and indispensible and just as your heart masters
the mechanics of your internal chaos, you
indulge yourself in its loyal service and you feel safe
wrapped in this dependence, this self-deception. With
continuous practice, your faithful servant tackles the difficult
maths of life, what you call, bad shit that always
happen to good people.

Like any intellectual being, that little piece of beating
flesh inside of your chest gradually comes
to its own wistful conclusion: to simplify
the equations and formulas and to reduce the
constant complication of its computation—it begins to
defragment its hard-drive, erasing the unnecessary files,
memories of joy, of love and of hope. Those things
are not needed. What good have they done so far?
According to its calculation, humans need only
one thing to survive, and that is fear.

So it teaches you to be afraid,
To live in fear, to become fear itself.
Only then, can you be fully and truly
protected from pain, from unfulfilled wishes,
from one job to the next, from one lover to another,
from the shards of your broken relationships,
from the dawnless sleeps, the nightmares that
do not end, the devil that is life. 

Kimberly Tsan (c)