A dreamer's Schizophrenic jigsaw puzzle
Could you please see the outskirts of prismatic mind in decaying life
And the overgrown soul's overwrought.
Is this the end of an innocent's journey who struggles on his bitter picnics along the mysterious beaches to build a sand castle?
I humbly dedicate this scribble to the hawk-eyed Asylum officer who interviewed us harshly (beloved wife & myself) on the 17 th of April,2008 @ BCIS,1585, S.Manchester, Anaheim, CA.92505
Postscript
* 19 th of April,2008 @1300 Hrs.[Saturday, in the Anaheim Public Library]
My beloved hugged me early in the morning and whispered 'Hey! my wanderlust you have already reached the 57 th Milestone today.She tossed a penny in the painful sky.' Guess my honey head or tail? '
I said; 'Darling if we have the tail then there is no any problem at all.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I watch the Snowy Mountains in Corona
Somehow you're lucky
Hugging the Snowflakes!
And I am drowning in the life's-soup boiler.
Darling Corona, We have to move again to Anaheim
That's an order from the invisible Hands
And the poor Gypsy and his beloved pack the things into cardboard boxes
Where this tiresome journey stops?
* Humbly to the poetess Fay Slimm!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Honeyed
with all that i said
've melted the ice cream star
what bows and arrows
feeling inside my tree
with all early ones
miserable ice beaches
still standing still
mysterious beaches...
my pulmonary soul
on orange juice shelves...
with all i need
yellowish silence...
what a stone skin
lies beneath...
all mysterious beaches
covered by my eyes...
all the honey wants
mysterious niches...
(15 July 2008)
poem by Selenaru Negrea
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Stepping towards a new horizon
My beloved! I am so sorry as you traveled here & there with this Gypsy Vagabond since your marriage.
First of all I must thank to Anaheim and say good bye for her hospitality.
The Italian old lady Maria.Bruno (Her husband Joseph died a long ago)
The Manageress of our apartment handed over me an envelope
And a tear dropp in her eye says 'just a keepsake'
Later I found a greeting card inside and three newly printed twenty dollar notes.
May you long live Maria and I think of Nativity.
I see the handsome Sun comes out from the Eastern sky
And I hear his murmur; 'Welcome to Corona'
I see a small red bird probably the robin family
Chirps on a branch of a leafless Maple tree.
That sad song reminds me of my poor deceased Mom's lullaby
She sang in her entire life until the music finished.
Around my billet a range of mountains
And I saw few whitewashed tombs like telephone booths
In a faraway burial grounds.
My beloved disturbed me; 'Darling you are in a deep thought.'
Then I showed her that solitary place with my index finger and said;
'One day we have to finish our journey there leaving our loved ones somewhere.'
She whispered while crying;
'That journey too we go together please? '
*Dedication to our daughter's Boston-in-laws and the family, Nalin and Tanuja our sincere friends, unless their tremendous help we couldn't move an inch from here to Corona.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Hey There Beloved
Hey there beloved why are you walking away from me?
Hey there beloved don't you know all those gifts are from me?
Hey there beloved I carried you through your storms
Hey there beloved come back to me
Hey there beloved don't you know I'm waiting with open arms
Hey there beloved I wish you were not blind but could turn back and see
Hey there beloved don't you notice my art?
Hey there beloved my love for you is in every night sky
Hey there beloved look for my love in the sunset
Hey there beloved, the sun is for you
Hey there beloved the coolness of clouds is for your enjoyment
Hey there beloved I love you
Hey there beloved You can walk away
Hey there beloved it makes me cry when you chase other lovers, but
Hey there beloved I'll let you go because I want you to choose me
Hey there beloved I want you to learn to love me
Hey there beloved don't go to them
Hey there beloved they cannot fill you up
Hey there beloved, I'll never give up on you
Hey there beloved I'm full of tears
Hey there beloved I made you for so much more
Hey there beloved you don't have to dress like that
Hey there beloved they don't really love you
Hey there beloved you're more than just a body
Hey there beloved you don't have to try to be something you're not
Hey there beloved I still love you
Hey there beloved you don't have to earn my love
Hey there beloved those things won't satisfy you
Hey there beloved heed my voice that path will destroy you
Hey there beloved you're broken, but
Hey there beloved my heart breaks for you
Hey there beloved can't you see the brokenness?
Hey there beloved why do you ignore me
Hey there beloved.... I love you with all that I am
Hey there beloved, that's everything there is
Hey there beloved I love you with my entire being
Hey there beloved that's grander than the universe itself
Hey there beloved you've strayed so far away
Hey there beloved I'll always call you back
Hey there beloved I'll always be waiting
Hey there beloved I still love y-
Hey there beloved h--
Hey there be-----
Hey--------
H--------
______ ______________
poem by David Knox
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I Chant Your Name Oh Beloved
Chant Your Name
I chant Your name O Beloved
Like the raindrops on a roof
I chant Your name O Beloved
Like the breeze in the leaves
I chant Your name o beloved
Like the snowflakes on mountain peaks
I chant Your name O Beloved
Like the dew drops in the field
I chant your name O beloved
As Your blood pulsate in my veins
I chant Your name O beloved
As the bees buzz around my head
In silence I chant Your name O Beloved
As they carry my whispered prayers
poem by Persian Khushi
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The magical Bamboo flute and the ancient Chinese Zither
Thank God! You gave me a dollar note to buy this compact disc from a junk shop in Anaheim.
It's really a very rare Diamond for me, thanks again to the invisible God!
It's named 'Tao of Healing'
Dean Evenson and Professor Li Xiangting collaborated for this great Performance.
When I hear this spiritual music
I travel to my faraway loved ones
And return without any proper documents.
I speak with dead souls
My poor loving Mom and the brother
Oh! They are better than me.
I forget all my debts and the misers' names too.
And all my wounds heal in the soul.
If I can hear this continuously
I'll be free of burdens definitely.
My singsong beloved grumbles
'Here isn't a funeral parlor to hear such a sad music.'
'Why not? Darling we sit on a graveyard
Earth is a graveyard indeed! ' I shouted.
* On the cover of the disc is a Chinese Goddess Quan Yin.Quan means Earth.Yin means woman or mother places her in our understanding as Earth Mother or Mother nature.
Zither; Culturally important in China as the Piano in the West.
Humbly I dedicate this poem to all music lovers of the World.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Don; We met after forty years
He is my elder brother Lalith's class mate and his full name is Don.Padma. Bandhu
Don comes from Portuguese ancestry,
Padma denotes Lotus and Bandhu means friend in our mother tongue.
Time of course a Magician, after leaving school we met in the land of opportunity and it's almost forty years
But we have not changed a bit, I have a gray beard and your side whiskers slightly gray.
We are old that's all.
Thank you so much for the the gift the big Johnny Walker Red label bottle and it's really a fountain for me to scribble my anguish,
Leave aside all the subjects we studied together
Algebra, Geometry, Physics and Chemistry
None of them help us today as we are the victims of Life's struggle.
Again we met in the life school my dear and we have a lot to study,
Around us there are vast different characters in the life school
And be alert as you live in the Valley with your loving family
And I am here in Anaheim with my singsong beloved and the loved ones are far away
Let smile like our school days and I still remember your favorite song.
If life is a song
But it's a painful nagging and what else?
* To my loving brother Lalith in gratitude as you taught me a lot much more than the encyclopedia.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Happy Birthday, My Dear Wife!
Today is your birthday-
A special day indeed;
May God bless you, I pray,
And meet your every need!
God made you, my darling,
To be my only wife;
And that’s the greatest thing,
That happened in my life!
For,
Marriages when God-made,
Can never lose their charm,
And do we as God bade,
Our hearts are always warm.
‘Happy Birthday, dear wife;
You’re special in my life! ’
Dedicated to my beloved wife, Mercy Celestine.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-6-2008
poem by John Celes
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The sad Castle of our little World
Our new roost a tiny room
And no table and chairs.
I sit on the bed and scribble this
While my beloved tastes a chicken broth from a teaspoon,
And she stuck in the Kingdom of her Kitchenette.
'Darling where is that miniature cheap bottle of Whiskey? .
The previous night I kept somewhere.'
She measured and gave me a small sip from the same teaspoon.
Then I grumbled; 'Oh! It's not enough my painkiller as the World still rotates.'
She kept quiet angrily.
Through the broken window panes I see the faraway floodlights in a Stadium
And I whispered to my beloved; 'I would like to play football again like younger days.'
She smiled like Mona Lisa.
* To our dearest daughter Tharindu.Inoka
We received your graduation photograph and the copies of relevant certificates today.
We are so proud of your achievement, May the winds be always at your back.
Really we missed you darling!
Merits to Kelum! One of our precious Son-in-laws who struggled the entire journey for bringing you up to this standard.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I'm April the seventh
it's April the seventh
and I'm April the seventh
with drops of rain beating my heart away
with drops of wine dried in my mouth
and tango I've just danced
it's April the seventh
and I'm April the seventh
sitting in the dark room
after a head over heal night
and the tango I've just danced
it's April the seventh
I'm April the seventh
Lazarus's Saturday and children's bells
all tinkling across my street
all tinkling across my heart
it's April the seventh
and I'm April the seventh
with a scarf around my neck
and high heels on my feet
and the tango I've just danced
it's April the seventh
and I'm April the seventh
with a book I'm about to read
a cigarette I am about to smoke
and the tango I've just danced
it's April the seventh
I'm April the seventh
Lazarus's Saturday and children's bells
all tinkling across my street
all tinkling across my heart
it's April the seventh
and I'm April the seventh
with a kiss left on my left hand
feet shuffling all along the floor
and the tango I've just danced
all tinkling across my heart
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Sandy Beach In April
I stood on a sandy beach
on an April weekend.
The sun was shining bright
on each wave
that carried its reflection in.
The sky in the west
was filled with mottled clouds
and on occasional breaks;
the sun’s rays peaked through.
An easterly breeze
lifted the sand into little swirls
and carried them a short while
before depositing them down again,
as I walked along a sandy beach in April.
5 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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The last act of the Play
The wanderer's wanderlust stopped at once
as he got a stroke.
He strolls with his walking stick only a short distance.
It's not like his early days.
When he was a stripling looks like a horseman.
He is speechless because of the shock
and gradually he became bedridden.
This handsome man never used a bedpan
but now his wife brings him all the time.
Life perverts him very unkindly
anyway the beloved with him as a shadow.
Flies and Maggots in friendly terms
because of the bedsores.
The innocent soul drowns in the shallow waters
and he fades away in the wakefulness.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The whisper(sun)
When we were sleeping early in the morning
Rays of sun comes into our room
Knock our doors
Hello........man of God
Hurry up, get up, ready for work
When we were working, at noon
Sun comes straight on our head
Says, hey man, , , , , stop your work
Have your lunch
Take a nap
When we were close to finish the day
Sun turns it, s attitude, becomes kind heart
says us, leave your work, you have tired
it, s sufficient for today, sleep itself also
April 4,2008
Abdulrazaq
poem by Abdul Razaq
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Anything Romantic To Say
I sat down to write
a romantic poem
confessing I love you.
However, I guess I’m not
in a romantic mood today,
as I couldn’t find
anything romantic to say.
The words it seems
have left my head,
which only leaves me
one thing to do,
and that is to go to bed.
27 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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APRIL and a FOOL
APRIL and a FOOL
April’s Fool day
Preceded her
April Fool’s day
by just one “fool”;
ME
That day before
I had a Life,
the next day
I had a wife;
SHE.
As April’s Fool
on April One
I said we do
and thus began
the fun.
Smiling impatiently
The Fools of April One,
‘SHE’ and ‘ME’
Became a
‘WE’ …
April Fool …
I’m single still!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Rhey W. Hedges, April 1,2007
poem by Rhey W. Hedges
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April, Dear April
April, dear April, I beg you come soon –
And bring your sweet primroses too.
Let them join in with the daffodils’ play,
As skies offer sunshine anew.
April, dear April, my blessed spring child,
Ornate in your yellow and white,
Teasing the birds into trilling their songs
And dancing to music of flight.
April, dear April, come enter my dreams
And rid me from cold winter chills.
Banish the rain and those blustery winds
And warm up our countryside hills.
April, dear April, I know you can’t stay -
You have to move on ‘till next year.
And though I shall cherish the glory of summer,
You’ll always be my month most dear.
From: Succumbed to Thinking by Mark Raymond Slaughter, lulu.com
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
April April April April
April April April April
April April April April
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Christmas Again
Yesterday I walked along a beach
no more than fifty miles away.
The sun was out and it was warm.
Got home late last night
and went straight to bed.
Woke up this morning
the sky had turned to grey
and little white fleece
was bombarding us from the heavens.
It was snowing quite heavily,
lying on the ground,
making a white carpet there.
The more I watched from my window
the larger the fleece got.
I watched the inches build up,
wondering when it was going to stop.
I didn’t really care if it did,
as it was nice to see
the white stuff falling from the sky,
even if it was in April.
My thoughts were
is someone trying to tell us
that it’s Christmas again.
6 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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A letter like a poem
Really I feel this is not a resignation
And some kind of a gratitude.
The destiny has forced us to leave Anaheim
And we have to reach Corona soon.
I am so sad to leave 'Montessori at Elm'.
Because it's my life school and I learned a lot
Mixing with dolls like kids.
I take this opportunity to thank you very much for your hospitality
Given to me in my hard times and I never forget that huge help.
Also I never forget the comfort I had under the shady trees at 'Elm'.
Please convey my loving regards to the kind staff
And specially for my loving precious kids and their parents too.
I end this brief letter with a tear dropp in my eye
And I am terribly sick these days.
I wish you all the best and a rapid progress to the school.
Thank you very much,
Yours very truly............................*
* My beloved spouse sketched this letter in our mother tongue
And she wants to dedicate this poem-letter to Ms.Cassendra.Wijewickrama
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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One Whisper of the Beloved
Lovers share a sacred decree –
to seek the Beloved.
They roll head over heels,
rushing toward the Beautiful One
like a torrent of water.
In truth, everyone is a shadow of the Beloved –
Our seeking is His seeking,
Our words are His words.
At times we flow toward the Beloved
like a dancing stream.
At times we are still water
held in His pitcher.
At times we boil in a pot
turning to vapor –
that is the job of the Beloved.
He breathes into my ear
until my soul
takes on His fragrance.
He is the soul of my soul –
How can I escape?
But why would any soul in this world
want to escape from the Beloved?
He will melt your pride
making you thin as a strand of hair,
Yet do not trade, even for both worlds,
One strand of His hair.
We search for Him here and there
while looking right at Him.
Sitting by His side we ask,
'O Beloved, where is the Beloved?'
Enough with such questions! –
Let silence take you to the core of life.
All your talk is worthless
When compared to one whisper
of the Beloved.
Rainy April Day
A million dollar baby
Has lost its father today
The fallen angel stays in bed
With a bullet in his head
Success makes you horny
And pills calm you down
No more excuses silent cries the clown
Your wife will light a candle
To guide you on your way
Hope that youll find
What youve been looking for
On a rainy april, rainy april day
The public wants answers
They dont wanna hear
And every kiss of yours is public property
You gave it all
But noone wants to own your fear
And fear is all youve left for your baby
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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