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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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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A Little Poem Story
A little poem telling a story about the poetess who were falling in love
A little poem smiled
She knew that the poetess was writting love words shyly
One..Two..Three.....Seven.....a lot of love words she wrote
They were beatiful, they were mysterious
A little poem felt the poetess’s emotion
The poetess was loving an awesome man deeply
A man who had filled in her absolute majority life
Like a candle in the dark., he lighted the poetess’s days
A little poem knew the poetess’s feeling
And the awesome man had to knew too
A little poem waited for that special day
One..Two..Three.....Seven...a lot of days passed
But a little poem never leafted from her place
The poetess never allowed a little poem to talked to the awesome man
The poetess leafted a little poem in her drawer
The poetess leafted her love words and nobody knew
A little poem had the blues
Love is about braveness
Love will become love when it expressed
“May be the poetess didn’t know about it”, she thought.
poem by Deasy Anggraeni
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Six Six Six Revealed (repeating cycle) (Jul 7th,2004)
(one)
Love brings war
Love breeds hate
Love births peace
Love begats death
Love blossoms life
(two)
Life blossoms love
Life begats death
Life breeds hate
Life brings war
life births peace
(three)
Peace births life
Peace brings war
Peace begats death
Peace blossoms love
Peace breeds hate
(four)
Hate breeds peace
Hate brings love
Hate births war
Hate blossoms life
Hate begats death
(five)
Death begats hate
Death breeds life
Death blossoms love
Death brings peace
Death births war
(six)
War births death
War begats peace
War blossoms life
War breeds hate
War brings love
Misconstrued
never ending or beginning
One last bringing of war
Begatting death of the cycle
Blossoming life as it is meant to be
Bringing cataclysmic profound love
Birthing true peace and tranquility
poem by Nicholas McDonough
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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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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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When he gets his retirement?
He has already passed the winning post in this endless race,
But he was disqualified and somebody else got the Gold cup influentially.
He has to take part the tiresome event once again
And he heard the annoyed utter; 'On your mark get said go! '
* A barefooted man runs in the cycle of births & deaths continuously and he carries all his sins?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Only as a warrior can one withstand the path of knowledge. A warrior cannot complain or regret anything. His life is an endless challenge, and challenges cannot possibly be good or bad. Challenges are simply challenges.
quote by Carlos Castaneda
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Is This The Type Of Person
Is this the type of person you wish your son to be
A person who is responsible for creating many a refugee
Another tainted leader who abuses his power
So many have to suffer for his most glorious hour.
Is this the type of person that you really admire
the fear of other races in his fellow citizens he inspire
'Twould seem that for your offspring your dreams are not big at all
The future generations of historians fear and war mongers won't recall.
Is this the type of person you wish your son to look up to
There surely will be better things in life for him to do
Than causing death and suffering done by others in his name
Is this what you wish for your son is there no greater fame?
Than causing great unhappiness when the bombs of death rain down
To innocent civilians in some distant foreign Town
Your son deserves far better despite for him what you desire
And to far greater things in life he surely might aspire?
poem by Francis Duggan
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Samsara
Oh! I watch this wonderful game in a lonely park.
A millionaire strikes a small ball with his iron club
And it flies to infinity,
He goes behind that happily.
The poor sinner caddy too crawls towards him
with a heavy bag that full of debts on his oblique shoulder.
*[ The endless journey, what 'Buddha' explains; cycle of unlimited births & deaths.]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Shani the young poetess from Massachusetts
She knows much but talks very less
And she attached to us before we leave for California.
I learned a lot of things in this fragile life from her innocent smile
And it's a hidden poem really that never published.
* I dedicate this poem in gratitude to her courageous family who gave us tremendous help as same as hospitality in our hard times in the USA.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Master of the Mysterious House!
Wind realizes that she must avoid the way
As the poor fellow builds a House!
Rain promised not to be there
Until he finishes the roof.
Sun gets up early to make his foundation strong.
And the Moon protects his innocent bricks
From the thieves in the night.
This Homeless built myriad of Houses
Along the unending cycle of Births & Deaths?
All were Museums now and the skeletons of Scarecrows
Remained there!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Unfamiliar Mortgage
Who mortgaged our precious life
to an unknown cruel destiny?
we pay the high interest by our toil.
This endless disputable loan
will it be end with the death?
Or we have to re-born again and again
for the Redemption of our innocent souls?
Do you think that he will come for our solace
without a prejudice?
To the poetess Ernestine.Northover
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My lonely Palm tree
A leaf of the palm, borne as a symbol of victory
But you are isolated like me,
Though we are tall like a Watchtower yet cannot touch the pallid sky.
You have a simple stem and terminal crown of large leaves.
But I am uprooted in the saga and and my broken crown pawned for a song.
Dedication to the deceased Marxist Sri Lankan celebrated singer *Gunadasa.Kapuge
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Bedside Viduals For Who?
bedside given viduals
for dead or dying
which comforts most?
deathwatch by windows
love watch by night
with a final kiss good night
in order to help
beloved deceased
you must raise
your deceased
from death
soul delivered
funerals for family friends
to pay public last respects
funerals are for the living
their shaking hands
oft in darkness held
in fear solemn viduals
love for the living
still life possibilities clinging
dead feel nothing
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Poem Is Just A Poem
a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem
a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about
anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's
poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be
a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice
thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist
on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,
need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem
it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so
this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Death's Fears & Secrets (blank verse)
I have learnt some things about death recentl
this is what I have discovered
Death is a race, it is more then one being
It kills people everywhere everyday as it can't be everywhere
Unless it was more then one
Death is a secret, it is livings worst kept secret
For we are surrounded by death in life
Constantly we fear it, as it must fear us
Death has its fear, that is the end of everything
For when the universe is gone and nothing is left
Death end, and ceases to exist
Death plays its games, every few centuries or millenium
It lets us thrive to the point where we are too many
Then it kills us excessively in multiple ways
Death is merely us, though invisible
It wonders too, looking for something to do
While it wonder the universe
It has purpose
poem by Ethan Wilson
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I Love You
When you say:
“I love you” to me.
I feel as if the
Man in you -
Is wooing the
Woman in me.
The lover in you
Is beckoning the
Beloved in me ~
For lifetimes of love,
Lasting beyond the limits
Of births and deaths -
Into the aeons of
Timeless eternity.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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When I'm Dead And Gone
When I'm dead and gone
At my funeral don't play another sad song
I wanna see tears of joy not of sorrow
Remember this day for it will be gone tomorrow
I want people to celebrate my death day
The same way they celebrated my birthday
Remember the good things I've done in my life, and forget the bad
Remember our love, cause at times that's all we had
When I'm dead and gone, who would really miss me?
I would hope that the memory of me make people happy
I'd like to say I'm sorry to all those I've done wrong
And thanks to all who showed me love my whole life long
I have to get these feelings out before I'm dead and gone
Same may wonder why I'm doing this poem
Maybe I feel like my life is reaching its final storm
I rather say this right now right here
Cause later I may not be able to say nothing I fear
No I'm not ready to meet death.
But I rather for you to know now,
Then when I'm dead and gone to be thinking something else.
poem by Daniel Chapman
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The Express Train of my shattered thoughts
Without hooting and signals this wonderful train goes out of the track
And it seems searching the homeland,
I see a ragged stationmaster holds a rusty red lantern very blurred, who wants to stop me at a far end?
The station called ' The death beyond the Mystery.'
I dedicate this poem to the poetess Susie.Suheir.Gharib in gratitude.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The chance to change
There are some things I would like to change
But what are they? It’s hard to say
The chain reaction, and domino effect
Would change the image, the mirror reflects?
If I change the past and the things I’ve done
It would change the person that I’ve become
Sure there are things that I regret
Some people I would rather not have met
But if I remove them all, from my life
I may have not become, a mother a wife
Although my marriage didn’t last
It’s not something I’d erase from my past
If I was to choose a different path
I would never have heard my children laugh
That, I am not willing to change
That will have to remain the same.
So I think I’ll keep things the way they are
Why dream of change? When I’ve made it this far
I won’t regret choosing this path
I’ll keep the chance to hear my children laugh
poem by Fallen Angel
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