Samsara
Oh! I watch this wonderful game in a lonely park.
A millionaire strikes a small ball with his iron club
And it flies to infinity,
He goes behind that happily.
The poor sinner caddy too crawls towards him
with a heavy bag that full of debts on his oblique shoulder.
*[ The endless journey, what 'Buddha' explains; cycle of unlimited births & deaths.]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
Unloading & Loading
*backbreaking, burdensome, exhausting, fatiguing, formidable, grueling, harsh, heavy, labored, laborious, murder, no picnic, onerous, painful, punishing, rigorous, rough, severe, strenuous, taxing, tiring, toilsome, tough, troublesome, trying, uphill
I left all the *burdensome goods in a street corner
And lit a cigarette non filter.
While sitting on the bus stop's wooden bench
I saw an old truck no number plate
Perhaps belongs to a junk yard
A young guy who loaded the ruins happily
For his endless journey,
And I took a fresh breath let going the giveaway!
to my friend of the journey Premji Premji in gratitude!
[The Buddha explained to one of his disciples Ananda who's watching the line of Ants crossing the path; 'Ananda you believe or not there are myriads of Kings and Rulers here in their previous births.]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Happy Sadness of Golf
It’s not a sport or pastime … and usually not fun.
You’re reduced to a mumbler before you are done.
The book says to hit against your left side.
Seems like hitting the ball is what should be tried.
Then there’s that bit about not moving your head.
That’ll be no problem … as soon as you’re dead.
Down and behind the ball is what they say.
Just more of the same … your game’s going that way.
And what’s the deal about a full shoulder turn?
One try and it’s wheelchair racing to learn.
And be sure your follow-through finishes high.
No matter your shot’s an unplayable lie.
Or maybe your release wasn’t just right.
Keep the faith, hacker, the nineteenth’s in sight.
Then they wreck the course with water and rough.
Just making small holes is rotten enough.
Ah, putting; yes, putting … what a miserable part.
A three-footer with a break can tear out your heart.
The worst things of all are those ugly out-of-bounds
With their penalty strokes and club-throwing sounds.
Lessons, hope and practice … no, they’ll never pay.
Watch golf on tv … you’ll be saner that way!
poem by Gregory Huyette
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When he gets his retirement?
He has already passed the winning post in this endless race,
But he was disqualified and somebody else got the Gold cup influentially.
He has to take part the tiresome event once again
And he heard the annoyed utter; 'On your mark get said go! '
* A barefooted man runs in the cycle of births & deaths continuously and he carries all his sins?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My daughter writes from Australia
Dad! Iwas really amazed
By seeing your name on an Aborigine graveyard tomb!
I replied her; 'Do not get frighten please,
Dear daughter in this cycle of births & deaths
This aboritve Man lives and dies in every inch of this mysterious journey!
If you have time just keep a fragrant flower over there
As every father likes the fragrance! '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Stars in your eyes
Oh! It's really amazed me and a surprise too.
My fellow poet friend Max.Reif visited me on the 23 rd of Nov.'07
Early in the morning.(Both of us wished a happy thanksgiving!)
We had coffee and few doughnuts in a small restaurant in Anaheim.
I wanted to tell him that I have seen him before.
Yes my dear friend, I recount my previous births and I am sure that we have met in several occasions in different places.
This good practice goes forever and all of a sudden we met in the U.S.A.
You brought your precious guitar and a tiny mouth-organ
And you sang 'Stars in your eyes' in your deep clear voice.
That's your own golden lyrics.
Yes my dearest, I saw thousands of twinkling stars in your transparent blue eyes and I hear the sweetest melody that comes with your dark shadow
Wherever I go in this fruitless journey.
* Dedication to my friend Max!
In this cycle of births and deaths we meet in different names?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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In the Bushveldt
A crow flies croaking in the game park,
indignant about vultures that descent,
where they act out their antics, pecking,
at remains left by the lions.
I stay detecting through the open window,
and drive a day's journey past gigantic trees of teak
drink ice cold cool drink while we talk pleasantly
and I notice zebras, elephants, a leopard and then this:
three lion cubs that eat voracious, unhindered,
and they look as innocent as small kitten
with the sun touching their fur with patches
until the male roars, makes its presence known.
A crow flies croaking in the game park,
at remains left by the lions.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Infinity
Standin' on a trap door, there's a hole in the ground.
Underneath the door there's a hole and it goes to infinity.
Standin' on a dark street, there's a light in the sky.
Followin' the light through the night as it goes to infinity.
How can I avoid infinity? How have I annoyed infinity?
I'm movin' slow in infinity. I even glow in infinity.
Chorus:
It's hard being' small, (hard bein' small)
Shrinkin' into space, (shrinkin' into space)
The world is just a ball, (world is just a ball)
It was my fav'rite place (it was my fav'rite place)
Lookin' for the blue skies, watchin' for the sunrise.
One thing you can bet, you won't see it set in infinity.
Gonna take a light beam, on the wings of the Jet Stream.
Gonna take my place in the infinite space of infinity.
How can I be friends with infinity? Can I make ammends with infinity?
How can I complain to infinity? What'll I explain to infinity?
(Chorus)
Give me just a time shield before the world has it's fate sealed.
Protect me for a while before they turn my dial to infinity.
I hope I can contribute, oh, but I don't want a tribute.
Hypocrites will come and say somethin' really dumb in infinity.
I can't hear you sing in infinity. I can't change a thing in infinity.
The absence of light in infinity gives me a fright in infinity.
(Chorus)
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At What Point....
the seasons of births and deaths go on....
waves come in to the shore,
yet then go out!
leaves fall from the tree,
while new buds wait...
stars explode into dust,
then new stars are born.
infinity changes shoes again and again,
yet the same feet walk the endless path.
are not bodies then just cups,
into which light is poured again and again?
and souls are just chapters
of an unending book....
what do we really know?
at what point do we shout hallelujah?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Them Heavy People
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
They arrived at an inconvenient time.
I was hiding in a room in my mind.
They made me look at myself. I saw it well.
Id shut the people out of my life.
So now I take the opportunities:
Wonderful teachers ready to teach me.
I must work on my mind. for now I realise:
Everyone of us has a heaven inside.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Them heavy people help me.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
They open doorways that I thought were shut for good.
They read me gurdjieff and jesu.
They build up my body, break me emotionally.
Its nearly killing me, but what a lovely feeling!
I love the whirling of the dervishes.
I love the beauty of rare innocence.
You dont need no crystal ball,
Dont fall for a magic wand.
We humans got it all, we perform the miracles.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Them heavy people help me.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball...
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take A Bow!
When you're feeling way above 'par',
And your golf ball is travelling far,
With a 'birdie' to give you a start,
Golfing is an art.
When an 'eagle' soars high in the sky,
As within a deep 'bunker' you try,
To extricate neatly your ball,
Golfing is the call.
When your 'club' just doesn't impel
Your first 'shot' to go very well,
You can't always 'iron' out the fault,
Golfing is difficult.
Now the 'swing' that keeps the ball rolling,
Will need some careful controlling, .
But then down the 'fairway' it flies,
Golfing is exercise.
When you 'angle' your ball at the 'flag',
And you suddenly encounter a snag,
Once the ball goes straight in the 'hole',
Golfing is your goal.
If you're 'putting' well, out on the green,
And your 'stroke' is one worth being seen,
Then go on my friend, take a bow,
Golfing is a WOW!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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On The Wayne Carey Scandal
The captain of the Kangaroos Football Club known for his dash and flair
And in the game of Australian rules a football millionaire
But he quit the Club in disgrace when news broke of his affair
With the wife of a team mate his future now elsewhere.
He breached the trust of his mate and was unfaithful to his own wife
And he must now try to save his marriage and get on with his life
He went back home to Wagga to hide away in shame
And many feel Wayne Carey might have played his last game
Of Australian Rules Football but without him the game will go on
And the North Melbourne club is still around though their ex captain from them gone
The Club's bigger than the individual is that's always been the case
And as good a player though he may be there's one to take his place.
He should have gone to a brothel for his bit on the side
Instead he had sex with his best mate's wife and their friendship he destroyed
The Roos fans had him on a pedestal and they called him the king
But like a silly person he did the silly thing.
My sympathies not with Carey or any sporting millionaire
My sympathies are with the poor and all people in despair
Like those brave souls who in leaky boats cross the dangerous southern seas
In search of a home they flee from war poor defenceless refugees.
Like those people interred in Woomera with numbers for their name
The Government of this great southern Land bring on their Country shame
They keep people behind barbed wire and their only crime is they
Have fled war lords and the bombs of foreign powers in their
Homelands far away.
The ex captain of the Kangaroos is back home in Wagga Wagga Town
And for his fall from grace he has himself to blame since he dragged himself down
And though I only wish him well my sympathies elsewhere
For my sympathies could never be with a disgraced football millionaire.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Game
On such an occasion,
Why do I say: 'Not Today'?
I don't refuse to play
But I don't like your game,
Isn't that clear?
The climate is not ready
When the conditions are only
That I accept the weather your way!
Forgive me if I don't accept
Your invitation to another round
But I would soon tear
The sticky net down
For it makes anything
To have two sides,
Attractive only to spiders and flies
And I want that curtain between us
Definitely to fall...
If it is up to me,
Boldly, I would drop
That invisible wall
And get rid of the nuisance
Once and for all...
It is as if I have an opponent
Serving me ball after ball
But I won't return them,
I want a recall! ...
I don't wish to continue the game,
The ball has dropped in my court, I see!
Do you wish me to throw it back?
And begin the same game again?
Yes, I may be a poor sportsman
But I am very bored
And I will not play this game
The same way anymore...
©All Rights Reserved-2012
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Master of the Mysterious House!
Wind realizes that she must avoid the way
As the poor fellow builds a House!
Rain promised not to be there
Until he finishes the roof.
Sun gets up early to make his foundation strong.
And the Moon protects his innocent bricks
From the thieves in the night.
This Homeless built myriad of Houses
Along the unending cycle of Births & Deaths?
All were Museums now and the skeletons of Scarecrows
Remained there!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Death roams not only in the evenings
Beloved! We met in different costumes along this endless cycle of births & deaths.
We touched each other with secret whispers,
Then we discussed in a friendly manner about life, love, sex and fear of change, challenges and lot of things.
But the corrosive noble death obstructed our path.
He is the only person that never changes his rotten name
Comes with the same opaque identity
And who grabs our innocent personality?
I dedicate this poem to the deceased Sri Lankan celebrated poetess Monica.Ruwan.Pathirana
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Buddha Born, Buddha Dying!
the buddha in me
looks like the buddha in you,
smells like, tastes like,
feels like, talks like....
i feel your need,
for you are part of mine.
you taught me about love,
when you were hurting.
the buddha in me,
reaches out to the buddha in you.
we inhale and exhale,
and night becomes day.
the buddha in you,
the question and the answer.
each a part of the other,
one must be for both to be.
the buddha in me, the buddha in you...
light born of darkness,
darkness comforts light.
the buddha born, the buddha dying,
no difference, no loss,
the journey goes on.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Red Hill and the black ants
I climb the Volcano
And the bag rests on my oblique shoulder
Full of grain sugar for the bitter journey.
Who knows about the hole?
And when I turned at the peak
Saw the black ants like a pilgrimage.
I said; ' Hope lava give us lavishly a drink
To pacify our thirst? '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
(LennonMcCartney)
It was twenty years ago today,
Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play
They've been going in and out of style
But they're guaranteed to raise a smile.
So may I introduce to you
The act you've known for all these years,
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.
We're Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band,
We hope you will enjoy the show,
We're Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band,
Sit back and let the evening go.
Sgt. Pepper's lonely, Sgt. Pepper's lonely,
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.
It's wonderful to be here,
It's certainly a thrill.
You're such a lovely audience,
We'd like to take you home with us,
We'd love to take you home.
I don't really want to stop the show,
But I thought that you might like to know,
That the singer's going to sing a song,
And he wants you all to sing along.
So let me introduce to you
The one and only Billy Shears
And Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eldorado Park
I sit on an isolated bench beside the pond
And I write these few lines in my pocketbook.
Oh! The black swan in the pond dragged me to my boisterous school days.
We called her 'Blackbeauty'; The dark girl with a huge back.
I remember once I passed her a vulgar joke and still I repent.
'Hey! My sweetheart could I borrow your buttocks as my pillow? '
She just smiled only and her pearly teeth that I never forget and who knows where she goes?
The faraway golf links like a paradise and someone strikes the ball with the club and it flies to the infinity.
Oh! If you could do the same for me then I could have landed on my native grounds peacefully.
In the pellucid water of the pond I see my wrinkled ugly face and I realize the gravity of wreckage in the uncertain life.
* To Alison, Jerry, Sandra, Denis, Max, George and the rest of all.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Hey Mr. Millionaire (live)
Went down across that borderline
Down in the planet Mexico.
Bought some tequila big sack o whack.
I let go the Peso; I couldnt get back.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Millionaire!
Can you loan this poor-boy a dime?
Walking and crossing the border line
Way on the planet London.
Bought a Rolls Royce and a Jaguar;
It DOES in fact matter how rich you are.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Can you loan this poor-boy a dime?
I moved on across that borderline
Deep on the planet Louisiana.
Threw some dice it was oh, so nice,
But it left me eatin red beans & rice.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Could you loan this poor-boy a dime?
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Loan this poor-boy a dime.
Loan this poor-boy a dime.
Turn yourself into a BANKER!
He-e-ey! [He-e-ey!]
He-e-ey! [He-e-ey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!]
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After a month or so in St. Louis, we were looking around desperately for a way to draw a few people into the ball park, it being perfectly clear by that time that the ball club wasn't going to do it unaided.
quote by Bill Veeck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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