A tendency to ignore the realities of life?
Painter! Is this a void picture
Or am I blind?
Let it be in its true colors
And please do not whitewash.
Poor carpenter who makes for others
But in his house there's not a comfortable chair?
And the skinny Mason does leveling
on this unbalanced World.
That luminous board never says
The right place where the road ends.
On the way I met her holding an Hour glass
and she gave the name and address
in the pitch darkness!
When I read it under the dim street lamp
O it's just a blank paper?
to my friend Pranab who lives in Calcutta!
*['What I am looking for is a blessing that's not in disguise.']-Kitty O'Neill Collins
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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What I'm looking for is a blessing that's not in disguise.
quote by Kitty O'Neill Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A dust cleaner marries a street sweeper
Skinny poor Princess
Who works in a Tea sorting Factory
And cleans the dust whole day,
On her way back home
She coughs and dust mites run.
One auspicious day she met
A courageous Prince
Who sweeps the street.
How the shrewd fate brings them together?
And nobody oppose as they walk on the same street.
He stops at a certain place with his broom
And she heads to the Factory.
As far as the dust & dirt would remain in this unclean World
Thank God! Their jobs are permanent it seems!
*To have a friend, be a friend.
-Old saying
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Keep me posted
My platonic love,
Your post-date letter
Better address to Poste Restante
I am your skinny poor Postman
Never stay in one place
And I lied you,
I am not a Postmaster.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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It's one of his radical paintings
They refused to take his painting for the Exhibition.
The reason they explained; ' It's a blank canvas.'
Then the painter argued; ' It's titled as Blank life.'
'At least there should be a brush mark then we can accept.' the director of the Art Gallery said.
With his ball point pen he kept a dot in the middle of the canvas
And added to the title as 'Full stop to the blank life.'
The director was really appreciated and taken the painting back.
* To my friend Denis.Joe who threw a torch into my little dark World and I saw this strange sign shines in the darkness.
'If the door is locked, someone is inside? '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Who Plucked This Man-Bird's Discoloured Feathers?
Salivate & cries!
Tetanus,
Hysterics,
hotchpotch & this hopeless bird
caged on the top?
Pejudical to see the faraway Horizon
and no tower of strength?
to my poet friend Pranab!
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Miss Sandy!
Troubled nature's waves
named as Sandy!
And they do all the precautions to survive?
But the poor man's hurricane longlasts since the beginning
as simple poverty and the rich binoculars
never see them as their own brothers & sisters?
to my poet colleague Pranab!
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No soliciting and loitering here
Oh! How can I explain my plight?
Violators will be prosecuted the rusty board says.
I pasted my poor scribbling on that oblique board and left alone.
Is there any other place in the world someone who could accepts me cordially?
* May the happy Christmas would release all the barriers against humanity!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Endearment
In my thatched house
On the gloomy passage
Towards the altar
I sketch your fairy face
With that dimple
On your chin!
And it's not Moon
Moonlight it reflects from the Sun.
Your mozzarella fingers
Holding an unvarnished flower.
My zigzag road full of pitfalls & thorns,
Please do not get frightened of my upheaval
And I give you my feeble shaky hand
As a suppliant for a piroutte!
*Dedication to my deceased Grandson 'Prabashwara' who bid Goodbye two days ago, I am sure that your lonely resting place full of fireflies and no darkness at all! May you rest in peace my darling son and I give you a little shout on & off! Your poor Grandma gave her kind regards too.
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Eggheads, Egotism & the heat of Election
The innocent folks' tin roof shatter of their sweeten speeches.
They show you the deeds while holding the Aladdin's wonderful lamp
And they request you to supply fuel and light up the mysterious lamp.
But the poor citizen are very familiar with their usual limbo.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A death in the opposite house!
[Mother-that was the bank where we deposited our hurts and worries.]-Thomas De Witt Talmage
I was sitting on a small chair
in the patio,
Like bygone Seafarer days on ship's deck?
And my beloved boils the Asparagus for tonight
in the kitchenette.
I count secretly who crawls to the funeral house?
A lady with an umbrella in this late evening drizzle
Squeezing my hand that resembles Ms.E-death in my nightmare,
inquires me; 'Honey! Funeral is here? '
I pointed out her the front house with my index finger
and murmured to myself 'Thank God! still I breath comfortable here? '
*Yesterday's Tuesday, April24,2012 @ 10: 00a.m. I scribbled this on a piece of paper in UMass Memorial University Campus, Worcester.
While I was waiting for my Colonoscopy test carries out by Doctor
Christopher Marshall, MD.My dear Mom! part of your humble dream comes true as I touched for the first time in my life, the campus soil, but I am sorry that 's not for your dreamy studies and for my sudden Endoscopy?
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Sir!
You passed me remarks on & off
that I am an ignorant!
Yes Sir!
I know only that Sun rises in the East
and sets in the West,
One plus one is two not eleven like our boss says
and the precious letter
in the English alphabet starts with 'A'
and finishes at 'Z'.
But you are not familiar with this statement Sir!
Most of the huts in this ridiculous World
Their stoves unlit for days, months and years?
All the religions I seaerched but couldn't find the right word
and ultimately it's in the encyclopedia in simple letters
'poverty'.
to my friend Pranab!
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The Prize Winner
Under a street lamp post a beggar reads an old paper in the dim light.
And he showed me a page while I was passing him.
It's an obituary notice with a photograph.
'Papa! Who is this? ' I asked.
Then he said; ' It's me child can't you see that gray beard?
And I won the prize, please take me to that drawing place if possible
And I promise you to give the half my son.'
All of a sudden a poem blooms in my unrest mind
And I scribbled on his paper.
* Let the tree grows in the hard soil
Until its last blossom
And pour much water
Then it gives you more fragrance.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Chronicle of a strange Trollop
She invited them for the dinner.
Tom's a Mason, Dick a carpenter and Harry a painter.
When they finished the dinner,
Tom did some masonry,
Dick repaired her antique bed
And Harry painted the kitchen.
Their pretention looked as drunk
And want to stay the night it seems?
But when they see the one-eyed butcher at the back yard with a sharp knife
All greeted her politely and left the premises quietly.
*Wish you all a Happy Christmas and a Properous Nerw Year!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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At last the love utters with a lisp?
In between the sky & Earth
He's born to a well to do family.
Getting his Master's degree
Chosen a bride from a shinning pedigree?
Beginning really a happy-go-lucky!
And changed into a misery.
Sweet words and melodies
Like darling, honeycomb & sweetheart
All disappeared in a while
Rat, Cat & idiot
Donkey, Monkey and go to hell...................continues
Day by day life goes thinner
As a piece of paper
Chest pains,
Heart attacks!
But rescued.
Then collapsed from the staircase
Ultimately the Graduate was paralyzed?
Oozing! Wet stockings
Loathsome and he dies in sleep
And the burial was a grand event with music!
But no address to be found hereafter?
to my poet friends Pranab Chakraborty, Premji Premji, Raj Nandy & rest of all.........................................!
[Consider that this day never dawns again.]
-Dante
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A Picture Of Colors
A picture of colors
A purple forest of colors
A balloon of colors
A blue fantasy of colors
This is what our planet should be
A whirlwind of colors
A white world of colors
A resting place of colors
A red hideaway of colors
This is what it should look like
A ‘yes' world of colors
A yellow rainbow of colors
A graced hill of colors
A green meadow of colors
An overflowing basket of colors
An orange bowl of colors
This would be a perfect place
Repartee of a Renegade?
Skinny Mom walked towards the gravel road
Where the Pawnshop stands,
Pawned the talisman and her few 22 carat gold jewelry!
She bought for me the valuable second hand books
from the senile professor's house.
Chemistry, Biology, Physics and Trigonometry.
Zoology, Psychology but not Sexology?
O my poor Mom gone with the wind?
The oil lamp's short wick half asleep
Not enough paraffin it seemed?
Moonless nights in the rainy days
Lightening helped me to read well the old books.
But my sad letters soaked with tears for the test papers
Heartless Examiner purposely rejected and I was failed.
Studies were stopped in the drought!
But still I learn in the life-school
The circles, triangles, full stops, commas
Semicolons, question marks & proper nouns.
How beautiful if the World's a Square[In geometry, a square is a regular quadrilateral. This means that it has four equal sides and four equal angles (90-degree angles, or right angles) .]
Then I could have hide in a dark corner and cry!
But it's global & rotates with educated politicians
Throws me here & there like in a Gymnasium?
[My dear poor Mom! ,
I requested from a Medical faculty in a University here that we're (beloved & myself) voluntarily willing to give our useless bodies one day when the breathing stopped that would give much benefits for others when they do a research of our mysterious souls! Not yet responded from that end?
Mom! Casket is very beautiful but expensive than the life here?
Everybody comes to the parlor and give their respects at last, that's all! ]
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The stretched bare land
Reaches the infinity
And there's a small security billet
At the entrance of the barbed wire fence.
And the board says; 'A special Hospital complex,
The proposed skyscraper is the tallest building in the World.'
I walk nearly ten miles from my shack everyday to this place
Along the road back to normality.
The guard from the new generation
Though he's like my son I call him brother!
We used to chat a long and whenever I go there I am broke.
This polite brother offer me a pull out of his non-filter cigarette
And we smoke fifty fifty to our defeated lungs.
Days, months and years passed
And the boy is already a middle aged now
And I am in my final list?
In my tattered Resume for the post of Carpenter
Some letters were already disappeared.
The project won't be a success as some restrictions from the Top
Because the top floor of the building is very close to the Heaven it seems!
*Still I remember the first salary [my first job is a power-loom weaver] which I gave to my poor Mom, then she said; ' One day my son goes to the Heaven! '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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We may give advice, but not the sense to use it.
quote by Kitty O'Neill Collins
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Business is more exciting than any game.
quote by Kitty O'Neill Collins
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Debate is the death of conversation.
quote by Kitty O'Neill Collins
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