I found your old Christmas card in my bookshelf
I love that water color painting
printed on your precious card!
In 2009, far away Salem church appears
with snow flakes
and a woodpecker rests
on a cypress branch.
Your boisterous flowing hand tells
' Thinking of you as Christmas
and wishing you only the best
in the New Year! We keep you in our prayers
Take care! '-Sandra & family.
Yes Madam! I am really worried of your long lull
And thank God! Your prayers worked out.
My colonoscopy results were good
The polyps they found in my large intestine were benign tumor
and not Malignant?
I am happy as I could scribble further
If my old friends appear soon?
Neighborhood birds started singing
in the absence of Virginian nightingale?
And I kept a bowl of rice & water on the window sill.
Hope you're well and please give a little shout
from Lie-Ving road, West Columbia!
[Kindness is a language the dumb can speak and the deaf can hear and understand.]-Christian Bovee
for my life-school teacher Sandra Fowler in gratitude!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Once again to the poetess Sandra Fowler!
[Hi Nimal, Sandra is well and doing much better, although she's now a permanent resident of a Health care facility, will keep you posted, God bless.]-Nancy King-Badran
You're my life-school Teacher
and the West Virginian Nightingale!
But no chirps these days?
I send you this Talisman,
a tiny compass
That indicates where I am breathing now hardly.
I pray to my individual poet-God every seconds
for your immediate recovery and also I have a plan
to see you soon when my innocent wallet sounds good?
I have heard about the West Virginian Forest Buddhist Monastery
and there If I could finish my journey?
Anyway, I hope that you have already voted
to the same soul who could achieve his precious goals
for our welfare.
Best of Luck!
A humble dedication to Nancy King-Badran!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Familiar voices echo from Massachusetts!
*Shani the young poetess from Massachusetts;
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.
They are in-laws of my daughter.............and our friends too.
'Hello Grandma & Grandpa!
We're already here.(Grandson Siluna, Daughter Thilini & Son-in-law Chinthaka)
Our Grandson called us and he wants to know when we go there and see them?
Yes, that's our endless dream and not yet finished.
Our eldest daughter & Son-in-law, Tharindu & Kelum in Australia
When they join us and sing together?
Oh! What a great comfort?
Then one day the old couple could have rest in peace hand-in-hand quietly
With a big permanent smile for a Toothpaste advertisement!
P.S.
Sonny! America is a big ripen Orange and we're small ants.I have already quitted smoking and I want to check your poor old Grandma's piggy till that how much she has saved for the journey? Really I must have an iron wallet otherwise these tricky coloured notes would fly always.
I must mention the name of poetess from West Virginia/my life-school teacher Sandra Fowler(West Virginian Nightingale) for her devotional prayers and our utmost gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sunshine; Soothing song of a Snowflake and a Volcano
'Hey! Dear you rest on my bosom a long time
And don't think that I have a cold heart,
Yes of course I have a warm heart
Like lukewarm water, but purposely I made it frozen
Otherwise you melt and flow away.'
Mountain said sadly.
'That I know my friend
When the cruel Sun peeps
Then I have to leave you soon.'
Snowflake cried.
Another day Sun peeps
And started his usual War song;
'Sad to sing, yet nothing has written
in the History of Lovers
Where the Snowflakes and Volcanoes eloped? '
*[ Kindness is a language the dumb can speak, and the deaf can hear and understand.- Christian Bovee]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Ruby-Throated Hummingbird on Your Parapet Wall
Sorry, Did you wake up to my morning call?
And before you go to school
You see that strange flowers in your empty jar.
While sitting in your religion class
When you open your book of prayers
Please do not get excited
By seeing the new poem remains there,
If you prefer leave it as a bookmark!
(For Sandra Fowler in gratitude!)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sandra Fowler is no more!
Dear Nimal,
Sandra passed away in the early hours of this morning. She flew away to be with Jesus, her King.
God Bless,
Nancy
I have no words
when the West Virginian Nightingale
was quiet forever?
I write to Comrade Jesus
please loook after her well
and this deepest sympathy to my poor poet God
to inform me when she comes to us
as a poetess again!
Your painted sky is gloomy today
And I know why?
I have a teardropp in my heart!
And I hear your song till I close my eyes forever
'Before the music ends? '*
*fondly to my life-school teacher who taught me when I argued sometimes about certain things, she muttered that life is a song and you have to sing before the music ends?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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And I promise to reserve a seat for my lonesome Master
Still I am going to school and nobody sits in the class.
Peeled walls look so sad like an old fresco
And I think of my old friends.
A piece of chalk and the duster
Still remain in a corner on the rack below the blackboard.
Some letters were missing in the old essays but readable.
Before I step down I hear the echoes of music teacher's melancholy voice
And I never thought a chalk could speak like a parrot.
'Hey! Master I watched your regrets and I want to tell you that some of your friends already stuck in a home for the elders.
Your favorite teacher was retired and she collects her last pension it seems.
But it's glad to see still you look as a student's charisma with your old haversack.
Please come another day after the refurbishment of the school
Then you could see the new students and teachers
And I promise to reserve a seat for my lonesome Master.'
* To Sandra Fowler in gratitude.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Happy Birthday Sandra
For Sandra Fowler
Here he goes again
old Dodgy Dave forgetting
his poetry friend’s birthday,
only remembering at the last minute.
Happy Birthday Sandra
I hope you are having a wonderful one
with family and friends around you
to wish you all the happiness you deserve
for all the kind comments you plant here and there.
If you had a wish,
I wonder what it would be for,
to live a long life of happiness.
Well that I wish for you
and for you to make new friends
to mingle with the old ones everyday.
I will also wish you good health
and love to last you through the years,
and all the happiness you so rightly deserve.
Therefore, from this dodgy fellow in England
let me wish you a Happy Birthday
and may you always be my friend.
Happy Birthday Sandra.
4 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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A Coral flower dwells at the Zenith
I am a poor fisherman
And the eyes of my net are too big
Even a Whale could easily jumps
And my tumbledown boat isn't seaworthy
Just rests on the polluted beach.
It's totally an off season for fishing
And the rough waves are surfing.
I lit the half burned candle
in my shaky hut.
And I pray the cruel wind
Give me a sound sleep.
The fishmongers are jealous of you
Being a beautiful Virgin
And they gossip a lot in the marketplace.
A friend of mine who mends the nets
And the friendly Sea Gulls too
Told me that you're pink of color.
I call you Pinky!
Though it's a risky journey
If you could drift with the waves
Towards my neglected solitary Harbor
I can wait in standing my whole life for you
Like a lonesome Lighthouse!
*To my Life-school Art Teacher, the poetess Sandra Fowler in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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And fester Elm tree laments in solitude
My little twitter birds I am so sorry as I cannot give you shelter anymore.
The autumn comes stealthily with strong winds,
Of course! It takes my innocent withered leaves away.
Winter in camouflage; sniffs the green light like a polar bear.
I'll guide you to a better place where the kids college stands.
They start a new program in the musical theatre it seems.
Enjoy the exciting world of dance
And please do not miss this jump opportunity.
You'll learn more songs and when spring comes
You could sing the mysterious song of life rhythmically in rival.
*I dedicate this poem in gratitude to West Virginian Nightingale
before the music ends....Sandra.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The stamp Black Heritage of Anna Julia Cooper
I received a letter from my Attorney saying the case is now scheduled for merits hearing next year,
I relaxed totally but the stamp on the envelope pushed me into some kind of research?
I love History though I am not a Historian.
She must be a prominent figure of the land of opportunity.
I know nothing except the Sun rises in the West and sets in East?
Anyway I hope my spiritual Teacher Sandra Fowler would supply me some ingredients into this void.
I have an old poem here 'The color of my dream' which I dedicated to Maria de Jesus the Brazilian authoress for her 'Child of darkness'.
And I decided to add there Julia's name too.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A twitter bird cries?
I hear early in the morning
on a Cypress branch
That covered with snow flakes.
O this sad song!
'How do we bear all these pains
and we have little hearts
One of our friends
passed away two days back
a songbird!
Is God too dies? '
to Harriet Beecher Stowe for her 'Uncle Tom's Cabin'!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Merry Christmas
Thick snow covered the mountain tops and the dangerous calendar is going to be finished very soon,
But a new shinning one comes with the same old nagging worries.
I hear the hymns from a faraway church
And I think of my old thatched village church and the skinny bearded father who wanders in my blood-soaked native land.
Oh! My Lord Jesus of Nazareth,
If we could have the Christmas at all to our miserable lives?
* Dedication to Sandra, Jerry, Alison, Denis, Dave, Max, George and the rest of my fellow poet friends in the site.
Merry Christmas and a prosperous new year to all.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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It happened one day
To Comrade Leon.Trotsky!
Today is the May Day isn't it?
I dreamed last night the mass rallying in my poor heedless island for solidarity.
This may be a soliloquy my dear comrade.
Oh! What a catastrophe?
A headless inhuman jackal was forced to split your precious brain into halves by the cruel hearts.
* To Comrade poetess Sandra.Fowler in gratitude.
(Many thanks for your valuable prayers and our political asylum petition referred to an immigration judge for further inquiries in Los Angeles on the 10 th of June,2008)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A lost bird flies in an awful night
It's very strange when others rest in their peaceful roost
Why you struggle alone in the unlimited sky?
Take care my friend as the Air planes collide themselves
in the broad day light.
And if you find a better place, please do not forget to give me a shout.
*[ I am worried dear as there is no place in the serene sky to stop and relax when you are tired? ]
To my friend Max Reif.............I am very anxious to hear your precious song again, 'Stars in your eyes' and I imagine all the friends around us; Sandra, Alison&Jerry, Amanda, Suzie, Denis, Dave, George, Duncan, Nick, Linda, Patricia and rest of all.I hear they clap.................!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Keep Christmas in Your Heart
Christmas is the time of year for kindness, forgiveness and love.
A time to kneel down, give thanks to Jesus above.
A time to be charitable, happy and open our closed up hearts;
A time to reflect on others make a brand new start.
Christmas is a time to look inside yourself and find out who you are,
And open up your heart and send love to family afar.
IF Christmas is not in your heart you’ll never find it under a tree.
The best present is the presence of Family and friends,
Which include you and me.
So if hearts are touched just once a year, it’s still not too late ~~
Maybe on some magical Christmas morning,
The touch will finally take.
Merry Christmas
poem by Sandra Finch
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The Milkman and a Widow's cry
The old Mill by the Riverside
And a middle aged widow stands
At the rickety gate.
The handsome lad who brings milk
Early in the morning
And the Sun pretends
As an Onlooker.
She took the boy inside
And locked the door.
Asked the boy to sit on the sofa
She's seated close to him and relaxed.
The boy seemed to be totally perplexed!
She took out a small book from her nightgown pocket
And gave it to the boy to read aloud.
He reads; 'When the daybreak
Perhaps a boy comes with milk
He looks like our neighbor Midwife's son
Let him read this in my absence.
Believe me, I am reborn your old soldier
And you don't feel lonely
Don't cry and I'll bring you milk everyday..................!
The boy watched the tears fell from her tiny eyes
And he stopped reading.
He hurries sullenly leaving the premises by saying;
'Please do not worry Madam!
I'll stay a night or two on a full moon day
And read this leisurely
That I promise you earnestly.'
Then she smiled and it seemed incredibly complicated.
*To my Life-school Art Teacher, the poetess Sandra Fowler in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My old satchel
Still I carry your heavy fragrance in the old satchel over my slanted shoulder.
Life flies away from me day by day.
And our golden school stands still with new students.
In that narrow flowery path they walk to our nostalgic school
And we are too old to stand at the gate.
I imagine the music teacher's sensitive finger tips touch the reeds
And gives the melancholy song of life again.
Dedication to one of the prominent poetesses in the site Sandra Fowler
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A sad Letter on the Altar
Hey! My haughty red Rose you are still in secured with the brother thorns.
Why is the favoritism on the boisterous Hornet, Wasp, and Bee?
You always give highest marks for them but the harmless black ant last in the class.
Please do remember this humble letter,
As far as the delicious nectar remains
Those selfish lovers flutter around you but they never bother
When you wither, only the poor ants live on withered flowers.
To Sandra Fowler, I take this opportunity to wish you
'Many happy returns of the day.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Evening Flight
The lemon lady fingers of the sun
Lay ribbons of pale mercy on the cold.
Silk birds like kites lift dreams as high as smoke.
The music of the moment lives on hope.
Gray roofs are steeping thickly to the west.
Snow flakes like ghosts fall softly through the mind.
I feel the shelter of your shadow hand
Stroking my trembling wings for evening flight.
Previously published: Paris/Atlantic, France
poem by Sandra Fowler
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My school is far and the river is deep?
Loose leaf book and the pencil
Old thatch school
Not friendly with the boy
When his father's lying on his sick bed?
He grips the rickety oars
and join the ferry
to earn for the family.
In the deep river when he sees the crocodiles
He murmurs; ' Yo all are my friends
and tomorrow I'll bring you something to eat.'
But he knows the rice bin was empty at all
and the crocodile would be angry
Remember once the Headmaster's cane
for telling a small lie in school?
for Nightmute in gratitude!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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