A Black & White Wedding!
Poor chimney sweeper's
Carbon monoxide soaked
Well creased Gabardine suit
There he wears for his wedding
And the country bride comes
from the dairy farm
with her cheese-like
Culottes bridal kit,
The bell rang
from the white washed
Mountain top Cathedral
and the old bearded father laments secretly
remembering his sweet lost youth?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Matchmaker brings a Fuddy-Duddy Bridegroom for a teasing conservative Bride
The well known Matchmaker comes along the muddy road with him
And his bell bottoms swept the road,
The white pantaloon turned into brown color.
When he's introduced to the bride
She's shocked by seeing the baggy mud soaked trouser.
She grumbled with her parents in the kitchen;
'Mom & Dad I do not like to marry this Public Works Department Overseer,
Better propose him to the next door teacake aunty
And they are well match it seems.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smokers
Though it's a risk to life
People smoke everyday.
Among the cigarette butts
I hear a nicotine stained song
'Cigarette contains carbon monoxide'
And the eternal cry of filters say
'Life is a struggle? '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This was a dairy cow, and dairy cows have IDs on them. The ID was traced back to the farm in Washington. It's a dairy farm. And that farm now has been quarantined, and the owners have been very cooperative in doing that.
quote by Ann Veneman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Paradise
It was a spring
Early in the morning
A bird on the wing
Old lonely men were smoking and drinking
Past days remembering.
Day time I did nothing
Only reading
What else I had to do?
Except smoking and drinking.
I hear a lullaby
From far away
A sweet peculiar voice
Somewhere on the hills
Remembering my youth.
Oh! how I dreamed of her
Lost as a wounded soldier
The battle was over
We departed forever.
Oh! how I missed her
For my own fault
Still I can remember what she told.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Merry Christmas
Thick snow covered the mountain tops and the dangerous calendar is going to be finished very soon,
But a new shinning one comes with the same old nagging worries.
I hear the hymns from a faraway church
And I think of my old thatched village church and the skinny bearded father who wanders in my blood-soaked native land.
Oh! My Lord Jesus of Nazareth,
If we could have the Christmas at all to our miserable lives?
* Dedication to Sandra, Jerry, Alison, Denis, Dave, Max, George and the rest of my fellow poet friends in the site.
Merry Christmas and a prosperous new year to all.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bride Colored With Blood
In our country Parents feel proud.
When their daughter becomes not yet thirteen years old (poor kid)
Instead Of educating her mind to study to become successful one
They begine to tell her how beautiful bride she will become at the dress of bride
And soon their wish becomes real
And the poor kid becomes a bride
She leaves away her pride
Her dreams bright when she wears the white
White dress colored with blood
Leaving behind dreams of purple future
Her childish pure dreams
Her innocency
She enters the groove of cruelty
when she is still alive!
.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hey! How tactful your singsong Detective?
Hey! How tactful your singsong Detective?
When you hum a love song at home
Look around and be careful,
If it's a new song,
Your beloved must be so inquisitive?
and she may sniffs any rare fragrance
comes out from your body.
She search your whereabouts
Peeps into your well creased trouser pockets
and your day to day activities.
Any changes in your lifestyle
and in your sound sleep
She tries to explore your sweet dreams.
Not only that she jumps to your rickety rib cage
and counts your fast heart beat too?
to my beloved in gratitude!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Bridal And The Burial
I saw thee young and beautiful,
I saw thee rich and gay,
In the first blush of womanhood,
Upon thy wedding-day;
The church-bells rang,
And the little children sang:
'Flowers, flowers, kis her feet;
Sweets to the sweet;
The winter's past, the rains are gone--
Bless'd is the bride whom the sun shines on.'
I saw thee poor and desolate,
I saw thee fade away,
In broken-hearted widowhood,
Before thy locks were grey;
The death-bell rang,
And the little children sang:
'Lilies, dress her winding-sheet;
Sweets to the sweet:
The summer's past, the sunshine gone;
Bless'd is the corpse which the rain rains on.'
poem by James Montgomery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother Earth's Lullaby
My son will be a polite king in the near future,
A farthest poor country.
I am sure that you donate all the horses
To a zoo and travel in a public bus.
You leave the palace for home for the elders
And reside in a rented house.
You pawn your crown
And spend the wealth for the needy men.
Soon when other kings propose their daughters
Definitely you say ' I am sorry '.
And you choose an innocent farm lassie as your partner.
She gives you precious children and whatever you want.
And you never think of a harem.
You live the entire life in harmony.
One day you become old like others.
You catch illness as mild influenza
And it may leads to fatal.
Not to worry my son!
I keep you a place in my bosom
And sing this lullaby until you rest in peace.
* Dedication to my deceased loving mother Esme. My heart still laments for my
dearest poor mom! . You taught me to recite thousands of lullabies in your melancholy voice. ' A poet lives in every individual but some they do not aware'. I remember that you have written this phrase somewhere a long time ago.The only fault I see in your heart is the unlimited love.You gave me the hope to walk on this gravel road..........thank you very much Mom! I cry secretly thinking of you.
Please show me the way and advise me,
Where I have to start & finish this journey? I feel always that you are beside me. Mom! I am sorry, as I am helpless now.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Velvet Wedding
It was a wedding of white
Spattered with red—
The flowers sang celebrations
As the old bell rang
The time was approaching
The time was running
They took their places
They played their parts
In this wedding of white
Dripping in red—
Some cheered and smiled
Some quietly rejoiced
The music danced
And the world spun
The stars shone
But the night fell
On this wedding of white
Laced in red.
poem by Annia Rosa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pure Woman
Sometimes when I pass the dressing shop
in between the barber's and butcher's junk
a bride in a show case lean and beautiful
smiles at all and never cries
never speaks and sleeps.
A bouquet in her hand
the flowers that never withers
and a clear white lace she wears
that will never fade.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I practised in London for Olympic Heats?
A beggar like old man once read my palm in a city Railway station and he predicted: You'll be a Pilot or a constant runner in your whole life.
Yes, It's getting closer the date,27th of July.
And I practised outside the Olympic stadium
on a lonely street for the 800 meters Relay?
Suddenly I was caught by a police officer
and he questioned me of my valid papers.
Then I said; 'Don't worry Sir!
I am one of your colonial cousins
and I never forget the hospitality.
I have participated the Royal Wedding
and the Queen's Diamond Jubilee
with my old Gabardine suit.
Don't you remember once you arrested me
under suspicion of stealing the Big Ben? '
They handcuffed me and I was awake
to the jerk & batton beating in the police car.
I asked my wife where my running shoes?
'O sorry darling! I left them in the police car.'
She's worried and brought the Sugar-meter
'Don't know whether you're getting the coma again? '
She looked embarassed!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Toronto Sky
The toronto sky is bue today because he is feeling much better today
Yesterday the Toronto sky wa sick due to carbon monoxide
And all the cars on the road sends their carbon monoxide to the sky
And the sky couldn't breathe and it is the same wy for those who have Asthma like the sky feeling that they are suffocanting
But me tell you that was exactly how the sky was feeling yesterday
Also I believe that the factorie releases a lot of dirty air into the air
Human neings use all kinds of sprays to clean their homes that affects The ozone layer also
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Well remembered a heartbroken mother's grief
A courageous but disturbed poor mother has brought her daughter
A ragged doll with sunken eyes.
It's a birthday gift picked from a garbage bin
Beside a wealthy house in the town.
Oh! She cried secretly like a turtledove's cooing.
I dedicate this poem for Happy Father's day.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Withered grass on the playground
In the morning I dropped my grandson
to the Kindergarten
And I watched a Father plays football
with his daughter.
My inquisitive mind traveled
to the bygone years,
How my poor Mom was sitting in the tuck-shop
and watched my acrobats in the playground?
I like to go to school again
But my loving Mom I don't know your whereabouts
with my old books?
I am old now and see the nearby burial grounds
Some stray dogs play with their puppies?
'No man is poor who has had a godly mother.'
-Abraham Lincoln
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lamenting ladies
A lady laments a voyage of pleasure
And cornucopia, English, weather.
A lady laments a man's time for leisure
But never the daffodil fields of treasure.
A lady laments her chicken-wire home;
Believing the cockerels out on the roam.
A lady laments good-sparkling youth
But only half-hearted in truth.
A lady laments the political tool
But never the boy's public-school.
A lady laments the critic's eye;
Scorning only to whisper and spy.
But-above-all: what a genteel lady laments
Is that once lost innocence.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A strange e.mail from the Devil!
A groomsman is one of the male attendants to the groom in a wedding ceremony. The term usher is more common in the UK while the term 'groomsman' is considered somewhat lower-middle- class and used by those who have adopted the term from America.[citation needed] Usually the groom selects his closest friends and relatives to serve as groomsmen, and it is considered an honor to be selected. From his groomsmen, the groom usually chooses one to serve as best man.
For a wedding with many guests, the groom may also ask other male friends and relatives to act as ushers without otherwise participating in the wedding ceremony; their sole task is ushering guests to their seats before the ceremony. Ushers may also be hired for very large weddings.
In a military officer's wedding, the roles of groomsmen are replaced by swordsmen of the sword honor guard. They are usually picked as close personal friends of the groom who have served with him. Their role includes forming the traditional saber arch for the married couple and guests to walk through.
[email protected]
You'll be surprised Pen-pusher!
How I found your e.mail address,
Specially I collect bard's whereabouts
As I am very fond of poetry!
I read your profile and that's why
I am sending this invitation.
My one and only daughter marries soon
And the Bridegroom's party suggest you as a Groomsman
Because he knows you since in the Army.
Please reply us soon your availability.
-Devil de Morales
I replied him in brief.
Many thanks indeed for your valuable selection
But I have some regrets of my old Gabardine suit
Recently I wore for the Royal Wedding!
I have few rich relatives here
But they are not in good terms with me
As I am poor?
Otherwise I could have borrow one of their best suits and a Limousine!
With best regards,
Poor Pen-pusher!
for the silent bard couple Alison & Jerry!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Always The Bride, But Not The Groom
Always the bride, but not the groom
that is what I became
when I went to a Wedding in October.
We went to the wedding,
then along to the reception.
I stood talking to a couple of friends
and the bride rushed in and said to me.
“Dave look after these for me“
She then commenced to hand me
her bridal bouquet and handbag.
One of our friends Donall
gave me a hug and kiss
and asked me to marry him.
His partner Janice grabbed her camera
and took a photo of me,
bridal bouquet in one hand, handbag in the other
and a lopsided smile from the mouth ulcer I had.
Right there and then I became a bride, but not the groom.
20 November 2008
Author’s note:
I dedicate this poem to:
Janice Windle (who took the photo)
Donall Dempsey (who planted the kiss)
Tara (the real bride for dropping me in it.)
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A homeless became a house owner for a while?
[I got myself a sleeping, walking, crying, talking Living doll.]-Cliff Richard, 'Living Doll',1959
A manor by the riverside
Black Swans mate and drift with ripples
in the Moonlit night,
And the dumb ferryman
Who sings a sad song
in his deep voice?
White washed Church stagnant
and the bell tolls to the strong winds
without a bell-ringer?
And he suddenly woke up to the moisture
As his cardboard shack got totally wet
Heavy rains started late in the night
And he sees through his blurred polythene window
Lightening makes sorrowful designs of life
in the dark barren sky?
*I remember while I was in California, one night a homeless smiled with me and he muttered; 'Long time no see? Sorry brother, I have a non-filter cigarette otherwise you could have a small puff into the patchy lungs if you don't mind? '
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And Her Going Away That Never Comes?
Newly wed bride goes out
Hand in hand with her bridegroom
and the sinful lass who sweats to the manor
since her childhood,
She had a tear in her heart
and she knows her sad fate
That she has to serve them forever
and her going away that never comes
till she gets old?
She thinks of her poor mother & father
Once she served to this manor
Now rest in peace in a faraway tombless graveyard
and the brave father was missing in a rage battlefield?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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