A Bride from an Orphanage
An innocent virgin from a hidden haunted house
Who comes out to the new civilized world?
The Bridegroom is unknown from the lower depths?
We all wish them a happy wedded life forever
And bring a dozen of polite offspring to this lopsided cruel world?
* I humbly dedicate this poem to the prominent Sri Lankan singer Maestro Pandith Amaradeva and the lyrics of this great song by the celebrated poet Mahagama Sekara............
' The river flows from the past
And the beauty of the dream world
I see in your eyes
my beloved.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Storms, Fishermen and Boats
[Son! Do not sail mischievously, boat goes to Dragon's mouth and very few knows about truth.] -Mahagama Sekara- (A Sri Lankan celebrated poet)
Fathomless Ocean
Struggling fishermen
Unexpected storms
And tossing boats.
Fishing Harbor mourns
And wait for the friends
Old ruined Lighthouse search their whereabouts.
In the breezy night
Ocean hides the top secret
And the waves hug the weeping beach as usual.
* My deepest sympathy to Senator Edward Kennedy and may his precious soul rest in peace!
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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Mr.Parkinson
I thought he should go to the Zoo.
The gentleman who's sitting on a bench
in the amusement park.
In the summer evening he's in his bare body
And half of the animals in the jungle tattooed there,
And he seemed to be a tough guy.
When I just tried to avoid him and go to the other bench
He smiled like a child and started the conversation.
'I am Parkinson and you? '
'Nimal'
'Indian'
'No, Sri Lankan'
'That doesn't make any difference and I guessed that you're looking for a job? '
I said; 'Yes'
'You never get a job even if you get that won't be long last.'
'Why'
'Because you have a smiley face, try to be a hard hitter
Like Don Bradman,
Show a tough face like Tyson at all,
Not to women they're very kind
And if they need sweet, offer them candy
Never give bitter pills.
Kick the ball into the goal like Pele!
Never mind if you go to Church, Temple, Shrine or anywhere else
Just pretend as Worshiping and why so hurry?
You may go to Heaven, Nirvana or Hell
Enjoy the life first!
Remember when she needs a candy
Never ignore her!
On the way home in the Twilight I hummed!
'And here's to you Mrs.Robinson
Jesus love you more than you will know............'
*To the Sri Lankan celebrated poet Mahagama Sekara for his Masterpiece 'Prabuddha' the poetry anthology.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Haunted
I really miss you when the nights are long
And only silence is heard in this world of song
But life goes on
And forever more
Ill be haunted by your love
I see you walking through the gates of home
And then I wake up to find Im still all alone
I should have known
But forever more
Ill be haunted by your love
Lonely is the river as it tumbles to the ocean
Searching for our future
We cant find our way back home
My only comfort is the love we shared
And as I walk through this world
With sadness everywhere
Ive had my share
And forever more
Ill be haunted by your love
And forever more
Ill be haunted by your love
Standing in the doorway
As the sunrise greets the morning
Searching for our future
We cant find our way back home
I really miss you when the nights are long
And only silence is heard in this world of song
But life goes on
And forever more
Ill be haunted by your love
Haunted by your love
(repeat)
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The regrets of an old singing mountain
I touch the sky and your passing clouds in vain
Because there was no any gratitude shown.
They just hit my peak and run away.
Sun, Moon, Stars and Angels they all mock and pass remarks.
And I was disgusted of being alone.
If I could move like a good man in a bad society
Then I walk in every corner around the World
And tell them whoever meets about my boredom.
I dedicate this poem to the deceased Marxist Sri Lankan singer Gunadasa.Kapuge. Still I remember one of his sad songs;
'Friends! We are not mountains in rivalry
But only transparent streams that run into one river.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The mutual understanding of strange lovers!
She's born blind and I explained her
It's a Full Moon and I saw her sad expression.
Then I touched her face and said; ' You have a round face
And a very pleasant looking like a Full Moon! '
I found a tear dropp in her gloomy eye
It's like a dew.
She squeezed my hands and muttered; ' It's pretty warm your heart
And you're my one and only Sun in the dark citadel.'
* I humbly dedicate this poem to the innocent victims of Moscow Air Port blast! Also to the cruel human beings who involved to this tragedy, let them open their eyes and see the World without glasses as true brothers and sisters! It's very ridiculous, why you make long fences in this short life?
This World is a one land and one nation!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Humble letter to the Queen
Honored Madam,
I take this opportunity to wish you a happy birth day as I saw in the BBC the celebrations,
Oh! What a lovely pageant.
My blessings, you may long-lived!
Sri Lanka is once a colony under your kingdom.
Thank God we got independence.
But Madam you left your precious friend in our tiny country
And his name is ' Divide & Rule' a real gentleman.
One day some innocents died of a bomb explosion
But your precious BBC showed only the empty bus.
I think some defect to their cameras?
This ethnic cleansing is a by-product of your factory 'The Imperialism'.
Never mind Madam we can forget the past as we are Sri Lankan.
But I humbly request a favor Madam,
if possible could you please minimize?
You're prominent BBC's (Prima Donna) partial yelp!
Thanking you in anticipation of a kind and a favorable reply.
I remain Madam,
Yours most obediently,
A scribbler,
Nimal Dunuhinga
I dedicate this poem to Miss or Mrs. Dumeetha.Luthra (BBC correspondent in Sri Lanka) for your prominent double standard.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Innocent World
I used to live in an innocent world
I had a car and a pretty blond girlfriend
We was too young to know what we were doing
And anyway I was just fooling around
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
With a cute little monkey on my back
And a total disregard for the facts
Id run away and never get back
From my innocent world
There aint no reason to tell no lie
When youre young and youve got a lot of pie
Now I slink around like a killer
The things they say are just a lot of filler
In my mind, in my mind
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Running, laughing in the sun
And always having lots of fun
Smoking dope and just being young
In my innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
With a cute little monkey on my back
And a total disregard for the facts
Id run away and never get back
From my innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poet vs Poem
Does a poet makes poem
Or poem makes poet?
The eternal war goes on.
The big confusion who will solve it?
Poet fight with sword of pen.
Poem armoured with shield of senses.
Poet tries to rich sky high,
Poem pulls rope of meaning and tenses.
Does poet sketc the poem
Or poem drags him through the invigible gravity.
A piece of paper becomes battlefield.
The war of ink and vocabulary,
Creates a historic beauty.
Poet cages the poem in a book.
Where the world will look.
Praises all to poet 'oh how great'
But the poem is what counts after his death.
poem by Saurav Karki
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Passion Of A Poet
in the world of the poet
passionate about his next poem
there are many trees reaching
high upon the skies
there are bluer skies up there
there are black and white birds
blending
day and nights
dusk and twilight
there will be more things to see
in colors and tastes and
scents of onions and
roses
there is no world as passionate as
a poet in love
with his craft
his beloved asleep in the beauty of her
closed eyes
his lips touching the nipples of her breasts
his tongue unraveling the magic
of a navel
in the world of the passionate poet
there are never aching eyes
perhaps only
an aching heart still wanting to embrace
so much love
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I am forever
I am forever the lover,
The loser
Life's dreamer
Streets walker
Smooth talker
I am forever in the journey of
An untouched sea
Seeming in calm
Soul quiet
Uncertain of the future
There will always be
I am forever the singer
The song
The poet
That travels light
The shapeshifter
Bearing those unseen promises
Who will carry this other world tonight?
I am forever the cracked glass
The shifting light
The moon dancing upon water
Thirsty and hungry
I am forever
The lonely
The lived in
The empty house
Full of noise and chattering bodies
The endless routine
I am forever the living
And the dead
Times traveller
Year taker
unseeing beauty
I am forever the living the breathing
Taking back
With one step
Full of empty
Living on
Knowing
I am forever
In the last sleep
In the arms of another
World to come.
yvette m smith 18.2.09
poem by Yvette Smith
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A skeletal Juggler and his charming pregnant wife
His wife whispers in the middle of the night;
' You make miracles that I know
Though the doctor says probably twins
I feel like a dozen and my womb is so weighty
Than this uppish World.
Oh! You are a wonderful creature
And you make miracles honey!
I love you more than my life.
If I deliver a dozen of magicians
They'll change the lopsided Globe
Into a well balanced World.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Where The River Flows
Music : rudolf schenker
Lyrics: klaus meine
Under suburban skies
Where life is bleeding
Where concrete skies are grey
Theres plenty of room for dreaming
I still keep coming here
Follow those traces
I travel back in time
Remember all those places
Feels like I never left
The houses still standing
Down by the river where
The dreams are never ending
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
Under the silent moon
This industrial city
Is heartland even though
Lifes been not that pretty
I still keep coming here
To that old river
To find my roots just where
The future lives forever
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me, you can find me
By the river where dreams will never die
By the river under suburban skies
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
By the river where dreams have never died
By the river I look through childrens eyes
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
Where the river flows
Where the river flows
Where the river flows
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Oldest Love Poem In The World (4000 years old)
Written from a priestess to a king…4000 yrs ago
Bridegroom…dear to my heart
Goodly is your beauty
And honeysweet
You have captivated me
Let me stand trembling
before you
And I would be taken
To your bedchamber
Bridegroom…
You have taken
Your pleasure of me
Tell my mother…
She will give you
Delicasies
And my father
Will give you
gifts
Written over 4000 years ago-authoress unknown
From an ancient Sumerian Tablet unearthed in Nippur Iraq
Edited just slightly by David O
Could this first published poetess even have conceived
That her intimate poem would be read all over the world?
This is not plagiarism! (at least not strictly so)
I just wanted the oldest poet In the world to get her overdue credit
And also to see how this lady's poetry is received today.
Let me know if you agree with me that…
This lady knew how to write, especially given that poetry and writing itself were both in their infancy
poem by David Whalen
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You Do Not Have...
you do not have to
read me
for me to become
another poet
i am
and i can be
and i will be
even without you
and you are
and you can be
and you shall be
even without me
i am a poet
because i have decided to write the poems
and the poem shall be there forever
until the right reader comes along
the one who loves
a poem even without me
even without you
even without the world
this poem and that poem shall be
even without us
for these are words
and words shall be words even without the world
for it was the word which came first
and shall remain
till eternity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A little angel who sings beneath an old bachelor's little sick heart
Thank you my dear little angel
Sing little louder please
As my hearing is little weak
Like the fragile little heart.
I remember once
I too sang my sad song
With my little companion viola,
Low pitch in solitary parks.
But angels were not seen
Those days.
Yes, my lost youth full of songs
But nobody knows
And only the withered flowers
Just smiled with a teardrop
In their innocent eyes
But I was little scared of unnecessary taboos
And left behind!
* I humbly dedicate this poem to my silent poet friend Dave Tanguay who resides in Florida!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Patrick Colum
He penned 'The Old Woman Of The Roads' and 'A Cradle Song'
And to Ireland's best lyricists he surely belong
And his haunting ballad 'She Moved Through The Fair'
With any song ever written is one to compare.
And though to the reaper the poet has long gone
His best poems and lyrics will always live on
He sure was a master of the wordsmith trade
Poets like him are born they cannot be made.
The name of Patrick Colum is a memorable name
Even in his own lifetime he did know great fame
The beauty in his verses is for all to see
A man of great talent who penned great poetry.
Many of his poems are good but his best poems are great
And with the best of Eire he is one to rate
And even in death his fan club does grow
Most lovers of poetry a song or poem of Colum's know.
A legend in death and in his own lifetime
Patrick Colum one who penned quite memorable rhyme
His wonderful gift with the World he did share
A poet of the people and his type are rare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Happy Birthday
You know it doesnt make much sense
There ought to be a law against
Anyone who takes offense
At a day in your celebration
cause we all know in our minds
That there ought to be a time
That we can set aside
To show just how much we love you
And Im sure you would agree
It couldnt fit more perfectly
Than to have a world party on the day you came to be
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
I just never understood
How a man who died for good
Could not have a day that would
Be set aside for his recognition
Because it should never be
Just because some cannot see
The dream as clear as he
That they should make it become an illusion
And we all know everything
That he stood for time will bring
For in peace our hearts will sing
Thanks to martin luther king
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
Why has there never been a holiday
Where peace is celebrated
All throughout the world
The time is overdue
For people like me and you
Who know the way to truth
Is love and unity to all gods children
It should never be a great event
And the whole day should be spent
In full remembrance
Of those who lived and died for the oneness of all people
So let us all begin
We know that love can win
Let it out dont hold it in
Sing it loud as you can
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
Happy birthday
Happy birthday
Happy birthday
Ooh yeah
Happy birthday...
We know the key to unify all people
Is in the dream that you had so long ago
That lives in all of the hearts of people
That believe in unity
Well make the dream become a reality
I know we will
Because our hearts tell us so
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Men Who Made Bad Matches
'Tis the song of many husbands, and you all must understand
That you cannot call me coward now that women rule the land;
I have written much for women, where I thought that they were right,
But the men who made bad matches claim a song from me to-night.
Oh, the men who made bad matches are of every tribe and clime,
And, if Adam was the first man, then they date from Adam’s time.
They shall live and they shall suffer, until married life is past,
And the last sad son of Adam stands alone—at peace at last.
Oh, the men who made bad matches, and the Great Misunderstood,
Are through all the world a mighty and a silent brotherhood.
If a wife is discontented, every other woman knows—
But the men who made bad matches keep the cruel secret close.
You may say that you can tell them, by their clothing, if you will,
But a man may seem neglected, and his home be happy still.
You may tell by their assumption of conventional disguise—
But, the men who made bad matches, I can tell them by their eyes!
I have seen them by the camp-fire, where a child’s voice never comes,
I have seen them by the fireside, in their seeming happy homes—
Seen their wives’ false arms go round them, and the kisses that were lies—
Oh, the men who made bad matches! I can tell them by their eyes.
I have seen them bad in prison—seen them sullen, seen them sad;
I have seen them (in the mad-house)—I have seen them raving mad.
Watched them fight the battle bravely, for the children’s sake alone,
Like a father who has wronged them, and who lives but to atone.
But it’s cruel, oh! it’s cruel, for the husband and the wife,
Who have not one thought in common, and are yoked for weary life.
They must see it through and suffer, for the children they must rear—
Oh, the folk who made bad matches have a heavy cross to bear.
There is not a ray of comfort, in the future’s gloomy sky,
For the children of bad matches will make trouble by-and-bye.
And though second wives be angels, while the first wives were the worst,
No second wife yet wedded makes a man forget the first.
Ah! the men who made bad matches think more often than we know,
Of the girls they should have married, in the glorious long ago,
And there’s many a wife and mother thinks with bitter pain to-day,
Of her giddy, silly girlhood, and the man she sent away.
Life is sad for men and women, but the thoughts are bitter sad
Of the girls we should have married, and the boys we should have had.
But we’ll part now with a handshake, if we cannot with a kiss,
And bad matches may be mended in a better world than this.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Problems Of The World
THE PROBLEMS OF THE WORLD
The problems of the world-
The problems of my own little life-
Problems and problems and problems.
A poem solves no problems
It escapes into itself
And makes a small world
In which the poet can hide.
The poem is the other world
The one where there is quiet and peace and calm and love
And all which makes one’s own dreams
A morning song.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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