Cooing in a nest
My beloved wife bought me a sunblock cream; 'Dad! You have some wrinkles on your face.'
'Yes Mom! We are close upon our sixties, yet to be chosen for the yearly Marathon.'
She collects pennies in an old jam bottle and hides somewhere as she knows that I steal for my daily Cuban vanilla cigar.
I dreamed one night the till full of gold coins.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Venom
I have heard but don't know whether it's true or not
They make an Alcohol out of Venom am I right?
Oh! That's fantastic and you can die at once
Better than dying every other moment.
I promised to my beloved Wife;
'Hereafter, Darling I won't steal pennies for my Cuban cigar
From your till until it gets full,
Then we can buy that stuff in downtown
And finish this rat race before the winning post!
* A successful man is one who can lay a foundation with the bricks others have thrown at him.' - David Brinkly
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Penny for a Tick
If the dreams come true how beautiful the ugliest life!
The slippery Zig Zag road ends at the village Manor
And we got down, myself & wife from our tumbledown car!
It's a small drizzle and a Twilight
The Sun offs for the day it seems.
The Baron and the Baroness happy with us
For their advertisement in the Pennysaver
And he says; ' You are the ideal couple we expected
And really satisfied by seeing you! '
Wife makes different names of spicy meals
And cleans the household things.
The two Doberman familiar with me
And I pluck their ticks a penny for each.
Cut their high grass in the lawn
And night I read my poems.
The kind Baron offers me a Cuban cigar and a nightcap
And now I don't steal pennies from my beloved's piggy till.
In the night she wears her old nightgowns
And she looks like the Baroness!
I do marketing; Rides the Harley Davidson
That belongs to the Baron's one & only son
Who lives in a different state.
At the backyard there're scattered old tombs
And I guess their ancestors.
Secretly I tell my beloved; 'Darling this is the final roost of our Gypsy journey
And one day they bury us here, We must send the address to our loved ones
Perhaps their offspring win the Green Card Lottery and visit our graves some day! '
To my dearest poet friend Paddy Martin who undergoes a surgery and my blessings for his immediate recovery.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Alison here Autumn's going to start and tell others
Thanks for your kind words
Also Jerry's warmest regards,
My wife too sends her hugs to you all,
Here Autumn is going to start soon and they call fall,
Yellow foliage in jaundiced color.
My wife grumbles that her piggy till's level goes down
As I steal pennies like a magician for my Cuban cigar.
When I was drunk I stammered, 'Darling if we have a Son,
We could have form a musical group named 'The three stooges meet Herculeas.'
I always see your precious garden through your poem paintings,
Does the bard Paddy Martin resides near by?
He too a very nice character found in poetfreak,
So life goes as usual Sun rises and Sets according to the Master's instructions,
Homeless they sleep on the roads here and dream heaven on and off it seems?
Wish that tricky life smile at all with yours,
I buy lotteries and if luck pinches by a mistake
Definitely We jump over the Great Barrier reef
And see you all without an invitation!
Take care and good luck!
Let's smile together until the hardest breath crawls,
with best regards,
fondly,
nimal
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sun Block Cream
My beloved worried these days;
'Your wrinkles in the face very painful
Wait I'll buy you a Sun Block Cream! '
'You worry so much and this is the reality
And why you waste money for the uncertainty? '
Just think of the Moon with the patches on her face
And she kept quiet,
The needy, fatal scars of the burns
On their sad faces who couldn't reach even
For a cheap grease tin?
My role is already finished and not necessary
To be in Hollywood.
If possible buy me a cheap bottle of Wine
At least I could have a sound sleep! '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Chocolate And Vanilla Swirl
When I was a child
I spoke, thought, reasoned as a child
My favorite treat on a hot summer day
Was a chocolate vanilla ice cream swirl
I'd have it for every meal if I had my way.
When I became a women
Grown and mature
I put aside all childish things
Everything but my love
For chocolate vanilla swirl
My only indulgence to my inner girl.
Not so very long ago
That swirl of chocolate and vanilla
Melded in a way I'd never dreamed of
Ice melted by fire
Our trust and desire
Sweetly blended
Bodies so entwined
It couldn't be said
Where we began or ended.
Looking back at our time together
The years have flown by in a whirl
As we allowed our indulgence
To lose ourselves
In the sweetness of our
Chocolate and vanilla swirl.
I hope there is forever
In this special connection
Of this chocolate boy and vanilla girl.
poem by Esther Brush
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If Teardrops Were Pennies
Wagon and dolly parton
An acre of diamonds Id offer to you
A solid gold mansion, an airplane or two
This whole world would be yours to have and to hold
If teardrops were pennies and heartaches were gold
Chorus
If teardrops were pennies and heartaches were gold
Id have all the riches my pockets would hold
Id be oh so wealthy with treasures untold
If teardrops were pennies and heartaches were gold.
The tears that have fallen wont buy you a thing
The heartaches you caused me wont pay for a ring
The love that I wanted would not have grown cold
If teardrops were pennies and heartaches were gold.
Repeat chorus
But teardrops arent pennies
And heartaches arent gold
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Spend Always For Company
it is always the case
this money that you spend to lavish your friends
with anything that you can think of just to keep
company alive: a buffet yesterday
a dinner by the beach
pizza at the yellow cab
and some home made ice cream and some light beer
some like it better with tomato cream soup
and others ask for a can of coke
one orders a bottle of mineral water
and then a nice conversation is shared
some stories pass from one mouth to another
about a friend whose life is messy
about a wife who can no longer endure an unhappy marriage
with a violent husband to boot
making her a punching bag and the latest decision
to petition for an annulment of marriage
some discover about a two friends finally having a gay affair
and the talks become so intriguing
you listen, the hours pass, the nights get darker, the music gets louder
you just listen, you look at each face facing you
without any significance
your mind travels far away from them
you get a scoop of vanilla ice cream
and they ask about you
and you tell them that the ice cream is so good.
it is not so sweet. just enough to tickle your tongue.
then one gets so sleepy, yawns and you say that it is such a
very romantic night.
you foot the bill. everyone is happy with you.
a pleasant company.
good night, they say, and again you are left alone
walking at dawn, and then the lights are slowly turned off.
the beach gets so white, with the coming of the morning sun.
some shadows start to vanish. another set of walkers
and blank faces and you say: the night is over.
good morning boracay!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Self-centered....
the blond
has a hand that carries a cone of
vanilla ice cream
it is summer
he looks at the sea
and lets his ice cream melt
not licking it yet
the sea is so blue
a woman looks at his
well chiseled body his
butterfly back
his abs and
strong arms
the ice cream melts
the man looks at the sand
and estimates the size
of his shadow
the sand is so white
the woman with her long black hair
in a two piece
the main attraction of this poem
backs out
and buys her own cone of
vanilla ice cream
and she licks it until the ice cream
is consumed
the man goes to the sea and makes
his needed dive
indeed the sea is so blue
and it is a sad summer....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Pinch
i look at my face wrinkles are being drawn like a plow making furroughs
on the ricefield,
wrinkles, i am getting wrinkles,
i look at my arms and i touch it, they are loose now, like some clothes
hanging loosely in my body, emaciated by lack of nutrition,
i look at my hear, i open it like a pettry cash box, i see some scars
and some loose coins for change, i like to break it open and leave
it that way, i am saddened by this
emptiness, this pain,
i stand now in the mirror with a picture on hand of my youth
i look many times finding how
time drenched me with old age, my hands beginning to tremble my
mind forgetting more and more of those memories of my youth,
i refresh myself, i get this clip and pinch myself, i remember
i am still alive, and that is luck enough, a friend of mine just died today,
cardian arrest,
and i am trying to do some little thinking, what if i will be next?
i am finite, i pinch myself some more, some more, some more.....
till i turn blue, till i bleed, who cares?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mildew on Milestone!
The old Sailor makes knots with his shoestring
And he hears the last year's rattling sound of fallen leaves
in the Autumnal breeze!
He collects the scattered pastels on the floor
that belongs to his grandson
And he sketches a drawing while he sees the wet nappies
of the next door new born baby's cloth line.
Hot Sun still looks young in the midday
And he smiles looking at the calendar and whispers;
'O the month of May how soon it's going to be finished?
And the June comes his beloved wife's birthday
with a big numeral and he counts the copper sulphate pennies
in his antique wallet!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Organic Soul at Naughty Sixty!
I eat lettuces like a goat
Carrot & Beet
As same as Wine and Cheese
Wife hides the brown sugar bottle
And I sleep on the floor as per the doctor's advise for sciatica.
With all these restrictions
I have to participate the World Diabetic Marathon!
Darling it's harder to bring the cup this time home
At least a certificate for finishing the race too doubtful
Because the former champions
Alzhimer and HIV run in the race?
(for my poet friend robyn selters in gratitude!)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Steal Of The Night
The band had just started when they walked in the door
He sat her at a table and strolled out on the floor
He grabbed the first sweet thang that gave him the eye
And left the door open for the steal of the night
Three dances later she was still in her chair
He was still on the dance floor like he didnt care
So I eased on over, there was no ring in sight
And I found myself facing the steal of the night.
(chorus)
She was the steal of the night,
Oh yeah, she was the steal of the night
He long hair flowing and her jeans so tight
I held her close and it felt so right
She was the steal of the night
Oh yeah, she was the steal of the night
He left her lonely and the pickings were right
She was the steal of the night
We danced every slow one the band could play
Was it ever this easy for ole jesse james
Had the gold in my hands and the banker was blind
Just inches away from the steal of the night
When the band stopped playing we walked to the car
As I closed the door he ran out of the bar
Saw him shaking his fist under the parking lot light
As I strolled away with the steal of the night
(repeat chorus)
(repeat chorus and fade out)
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pre-giveaway to our precious Grandson
A very happy Birth day to you son and be a good-smart boy like 'Sanath' [not the actor; The world famous cricketer].
Hope you become a real man soon and change the World for better prospects.
No son! Please stay aside and remain as a child forever because the cruel society is precarious.
Your mad grandpa lost his job and still scribbles with a hullabaloo
And your courageous grandma gets up early in the morning and fights with the rolled gold life.
She stuck under the table in a daycare center to bring bread & butter home and she never forgets to buy my Cuban vanilla cigar too.
In our dream-trains we travel a thousand times home bounds
But we station here for a purpose.
I am sorry my son in your playgroup you really missed your fine playmate and she is here with me in a turmoil.
[Hey! our little apprentice Master Siluna you are close upon three years
and do not forget that your mischievous grandpa got married at 21.]
* A humble dedication to the young poetess
Shani.Bogamuwa of Massachusetts.
Also to loving Kelum & Tharindu, Chinthaka & Thilini our loved ones and etc.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Betrothed
"You must choose between me and your cigar."
-- BREACH OF PROMISE CASE, CIRCA 1885.
Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.
We quarrelled about Havanas -- we fought o'er a good cheroot,
And I knew she is exacting, and she says I am a brute.
Open the old cigar-box -- let me consider a space;
In the soft blue veil of the vapour musing on Maggie's face.
Maggie is pretty to look at -- Maggie's a loving lass,
But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass.
There's peace in a Larranaga, there's calm in a Henry Clay;
But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away --
Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown --
But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o' the talk o' the town!
Maggie, my wife at fifty -- grey and dour and old --
With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold!
And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are,
And Love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar --
The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket --
With never a new one to light tho' it's charred and black to the socket!
Open the old cigar-box -- let me consider a while.
Here is a mild Manila -- there is a wifely smile.
Which is the better portion -- bondage bought with a ring,
Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string?
Counsellors cunning and silent -- comforters true and tried,
And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride?
Thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes,
Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close,
This will the fifty give me, asking nought in return,
With only a Suttee's passion -- to do their duty and burn.
This will the fifty give me. When they are spent and dead,
Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead.
The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main,
When they hear my harem is empty will send me my brides again.
I will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal,
So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall.
I will scent 'em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides,
And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides.
For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between
The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o' Teen.
And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear,
But I have been Priest of Cabanas a matter of seven year;
And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light
Of stums that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure and Work and Fight.
And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove,
But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o'-the-Wisp of Love.
Will it see me safe through my journey or leave me bogged in the mire?
Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire?
Open the old cigar-box -- let me consider anew --
Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you?
A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke;
And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke.
Light me another Cuba -- I hold to my first-sworn vows.
If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for Spouse!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Hide Your Fortune
Fortune hides a fortune of gold and silver,
The very same silver commanding, friendlier;
Frost demands of the gold some ancient health
And power, the very commands have wealth.
Ice is an unique trumpet of gold,
Golden men are carriers of the old.
May God fold in the ingredients of a soup,
One made of pennies of fluid and in a group.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Here goes the 116th Boston Marathon!
I am really fed up with the rat race
Almost tired & frustrated?
Darling! Please do not force this weakling
And I am so sorry as you spent a lot for me
In vain the multivitamin capsules
Five hour energy drinks & Viagra?
I'll be in the crowd if you like as a spectator!
You can take some close-up photographs
From the digital camera,
Our daughter sent from Australia.
At least we could pacify ourselves
That we have seen a true Marathon
For the first time in our life?
['We want people to know it's hard to go through something like this, but you can keep fighting and can continue to lead a positive life.'-Ed Feather]
*A humble dedication to the courageous 39 year-old Ed Feather Esq. of Framingham, Massachusetts who runs for the Marathon to honor his beloved wife, who died of ovarian cancer.My innocent prayers for the individual Poet-God with a heart to make him the winner Supremo!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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When a compassionate Nurse dress your wounds
Doctor told him' You are all right and discharge in the evening.'
The patient begs; ' I would like to stay one more night Doctor.'
'It's up to you.'
He informed his beloved wife; 'Hey! Darling, Doctor wants to see me tomorrow for an urgent matter, no idea? '
And he waits till the kind Nurse's visit to his cubicle room.
But another one came and she is on leave it seems.
He dreamed in the particular night that he met an accident and admitted to the same hospital.
* Human mind is an untamed beast explores new adventures?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Change
The change
has come...gone...
Leaving one nickle;
three pennies...
And one song
stuck in my head.
The party is over, the ice cream's
turned to cream.
The confetti has
blown out of town.
Said she was gone...
And all the stars have
huddled around the moon...
Shivering in the cold
of a January...
Night, nite, nite
and goodbye.
poem by Midnights Voice
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Gold!
Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!
Bright and yellow, hard and cold
Molten, graven, hammered and rolled,
Heavy to get and light to hold,
Hoarded, bartered, bought and sold,
Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled,
Spurned by young, but hung by old
To the verge of a church yard mold;
Price of many a crime untold.
Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!
Good or bad a thousand fold!
How widely it agencies vary,
To save - to ruin - to curse - to bless -
As even its minted coins express :
Now stamped with the image of Queen Bess,
And now of a bloody Mary.
poem by Thomas Hood
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