Mr.Trump here's my fading certificate of Birth!
Born April 19,1951
At a General Hospital, Colombo, Sri Lanka
Male gender, colour of skin Tan!
Under the Star of Capricorn
Named as Nimal,
Father Buddhist and Mother's baptized
But I am a free thinker
Mixed with Human Gods.
Still I believe the Buddha is the greatest poet!
According to his teachings
A Man has myriad of birth certificates
Along this endless journey,
As he's born in every country of this tiny World!
My dilemma is this why do they ignore of the Human group of blood
In this piece of ridiculous paper?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Christopher Columbus
If I was born on the twelfth day of October,
On which day in 1492 Columbus discovered America,
But I was born on the day 19th of April,1951 in a general hospital of Colombo, Sri Lanka.
Somehow I discovered the pinching sorrow in a nightmare
Where the childish man who struggles eternally?
* I dedicate this scribbling to my deceased pet dog. [Marco my precious son] His yelp taught me lot of things about the mysterious life.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Nothing to Write Today
I struggled to scribble something
But ideas run away,
Anyway I would like to write few lines
That I found in my old notebook.
' I was born on the nineteenth of April,1951
Somewhere in a rural hospital in Sri Lanka
And my parents were given me a name to identify.
Where were they now?
I hear their voices in a distant calling my name
And they are searching me in my native island.
But I am far away and here I am anonymous.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The poet some called him Eccentric
Hey! You asked my Religion very frequently
My Father is a Buddhist and Mother
A Baptized Protestant.
In my certificate of birth they registered me as a Buddhist.
But my religion is Humanism!
I am sure you all laugh and tell;
'There's no Religion by such a name in the World.'
Sorry, this may bitter for you,
When Adam eats the forbidden fruit
Eve's shy and covered her secret place with a Maple leaf?
And the invisible Gardener kept quiet.
That's called Humanism the oldest Religion!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Let us thank our Gods..
Buddha was a human and a Hindu,
And he worshiped the Hindu Gods,
Instead of worshiping Hindu Gods,
Why do people worship Buddha?
Jesus was a human and a Jew,
And he worshiped the Father,
Instead of following his religion,
Why do people worship Jesus?
These are the questions of logic,
We may provide the answers of magic,
If Religions were gate way to heaven,
Where our ancestors went in BCs?
I like the teaching of Jesus,
Who asks us to love our foes.
I like the teachings of Mohammad,
as he eliminated injustices.
We, the human, elevated ourselves,
From the hardship that Gods have created.
From naked human to today's technocrats,
We have evolved from ignorance.
Let us take the religion for guidance,
not to inflict hatred on another human.
Let us take the doctrines for consolations,
not to hurt another human with weapons.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Squirrel my little friend!
I watch your jumps from tree to tree
with that bushy tail
And your song I try to understand
If I write this way
Is it okay?
Man raises his bony hands and questions
from the dumb sky of his future?
Sky's helpless as she cannot stop the clouds
that wander here & there?
Man tries to hide his wealth in the river
But river flows to the sea ever?
Man sketches his sky scrapers
But nobody stays here and his offspring
fly everywhere when they grown up
Leaving the old sick parents there?
a humble dedication to my poet friend Narain j.p!
A Buddhist faces death not as a crisis in life but as a normal event, for he knows that whoever is born must suffer, 'decay', and ultimately die. Or, as someone so aptly puts it, 'Everyone is born with the certificate of death at his birth.' If we could all look at death such an intelligent and rational way, we would not cling to life so tenaciously.
'Ayamantima jatinatthidani punabbhavo'
This is my final birth and there is no more rebirth for me.
(Dhamma Cakka Sutta) . -The Buddha
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Snail Crossing.... (Part Nine)
the lives of every child,
of every color, every nationality,
and every language,
whether male or female,
born in or out of wedlock,
born in wealth or poverty...
are sacred.
and therein lies
the greatest responsibility
of the human race...
and at this moment,
the greatest failure!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A broken string of a Cello
The poet TYP (Pseudonym) in the poetfreak who introduced me the greatest cellist Jaquueline Mary du Pre. Merits for him!
Jaqueline Mary du Pre was a British Cellist
One of the great players,
Her career was cut short
By multiple *Scierosis, which forced her to cease
Performing at the age 28, and led to her premature death
At the age of 42.
Death always a dilemma for me?
Just imagine a hard shell tortoise lives for a long
And this poor human beings bring to the guillotine
Within a short period?
Who thinks human being's a guinea pig for their experiments?
Anyway it's not fair indeed and the guise of the Life is ridiculous!
* Abnormal hardening of the body tissue?
Human should get only the soul and live a long like the tortoise!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Wesak
The Buddha's Birth, Enlightenment and Parinirvana
[occurs upon the death]
Happened on the same day.
All over the World the Buddhists they celebrate Wesak.
It falls on a full Moon day, Month of May,27th.
I am so grateful to this greatest Philosopher/Poet
I light a Paper-Lantern on this auspicious day
And see where I am in this horrible darkness?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Buddha Born, Buddha Dying!
the buddha in me
looks like the buddha in you,
smells like, tastes like,
feels like, talks like....
i feel your need,
for you are part of mine.
you taught me about love,
when you were hurting.
the buddha in me,
reaches out to the buddha in you.
we inhale and exhale,
and night becomes day.
the buddha in you,
the question and the answer.
each a part of the other,
one must be for both to be.
the buddha in me, the buddha in you...
light born of darkness,
darkness comforts light.
the buddha born, the buddha dying,
no difference, no loss,
the journey goes on.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The death certificate
The commendation certificates,
The graduation certificates,
The experience certificates
And the birth certificate
Are dead when death certificate is born.
04.12.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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X’mas
Born was a child in a manger;
Born was the son of God, the Father;
Born was the love of the Maker;
Born was for men, a Redeemer.
Born was a baby boy, a king;
Born was on earth a prophet great;
Born was the love of God in human form;
Born was a Messiah.
Born was a son of a carpenter;
Born was the king of Jews;
Born was the living God as flesh;
Born was a Savior.
Born was a babe, who brought,
Joy and peace to the world;
Born was a babe on a bed of hay,
As angels choirs kept singing on.
Born was the spotless Lamb of God
Who was to die on the cross;
Born was a divine child,
From the Virgin Mary’s womb!
Born was Lord Jesus Christ,
Who paid the price for our sins,
And by His death and resurrection,
Made it possible for sinners too,
To go to Heaven.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-25-2006
poem by John Celes
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Human
Come on, baby, dry your eyes
Wipe your tears
Never like to see you cry
Wont you please forgive me ?
I wouldnt ever try to hurt you
I just needed someone to hold me
To fill the void while you were gone
To fill this space of emptiness
Im only human
Of flesh and blood Im made
Human
Born to make mistakes
So many nights I longed to hold you
So many times I looked and saw your face
Nothing could change the way I feel
No-one else could ever take your place
Im only human
Of flesh and blood Im made
Human
Born to make mistakes
I am just a man
Please forgive me
The tears I cry arent tears of pain
Theyre only to hide my guilt and shame
I forgive you now I ask the same of you
While we were apart I was human too
Im only human
Of flesh and blood Im made
I am just a man
Human
Born to make mistakes
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Star is Born in Obama
Born from a broken home
Born to be free
Son of a mother
Dad chose to flee
A star you are
And a star you'll be
Aspiring to take us all far into the next Century
President Obama
Son of this soil
Sleeves rolled up
Never afraid to toil
You are American
You are one of us
We are all traveling on the same bus
Even though the economy is failing
And the bus dangles near the railing
Hope is in sight
If we follow the star's light
A star he is
A star he'll be
The next president of our country
poem by Mitzie Thorne
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Born To Be Free! ! !
Born to be free! ! !
But, the obstacles of this world have engulfed themselves all around me.
Born to be free! ! !
But hatred had been the main cause being practised by mankind than love.
Born to be free! ! !
But, mankind had introduced what is called racism all around us.
Born to be free! ! !
But, mankind is not ready to accept the positive laws of the Creator.
Born to be free! ! !
But, there are wars everywhere on this earth.
Born to be free! ! !
But, you've hated me already in your heart without any reason.
Born to be free! ! !
But, earth's own problems are more than i can bare.
Born to be free! ! !
But, what i know is not what the Babylon System is teaching me.
Born to be free! ! !
But, the painter of tomorrow has no brush in his or her hand today.
Born to be free! ! !
But, when will the world learn to live in peace?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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On a long journey of human life, faith is the best of companions it is the best refreshment on the journey and it is the greatest property.
On His Father's Side
On his mother’s side
Born in Bethlehem
On his Father’s side
No one before him
On his mother’s side
Growing and learning
On his Father’s side
All knowledge showing
On his mother’s side
Stuck in one location
On his Father’s side
Present in every nation
On his mother’s side
He was hungry
On his Father’s side
The multitudes he did feed
On his mother’s side
At Calvary he died
On his Father’s side
He was the essence of life
On his mother’s side
Buried like other men
On his Father’s side
He rose again
On his mother’s side
Human and weak
On his Father’s side
The God of eternity.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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I'm William Shakespeare
I’m born in April,1564 in Stratford-upon-Avon
I’m 100 miles northwest of London
I’m According to the records of Stratford's Holy Trinity Church
I’m baptized on April 26
I’m traditional birth date April 23rd, St. George's day
I’m married Anne Hathaway on November 27,1582
I’m 18; Anne was 26, eight years older than me.
I’m Susanna was born around May 26,1583; twins, Hamnet and Judith, were born around February 2,1585.
I’m likely educated at the grammar school in Stratford from the age of six or seven.
I’m published my first poem, 'Venus and Adonis, ' in 1593. I then wrote 154 poems and 37 plays, and my fame has only increased with time.
I’m recognized as one of the greatest writers of all time, known for works like 'Hamlet, ' 'Much Ado About Nothing, ' 'Romeo and Juliet, ' 'Othello, ' 'The Tempest, ' and many other works.
I’m With the 154 poems and 37 plays of my literary career, my body of works are among the most quoted in literature. I created comedies, histories, tragedies, and poetry. Despite the authorship controversies that have surrounded my works, the name of my continues to be revered by scholars and writers from around the world
I’m William Shakespeare
poem by Valya Madden
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Half my father
Half my father
Half my mother
My mother white as a ghost
My father black as coal
In my face the mixture glows
My skin is white
Still I am a black man
By the make of my nose
My hair is curly
My eyes are gray
Within me both if them lives
My mother’s race
Did enslave
My father’s race
Was never paid.
Still within I bare the two
Am O the new American?
My father is white
My mother is Korean
They met during the war
And I was born
Their only son
By my tone of skin
And by my eyes
You can tell
That there is a divide
And by my blonde hair
It is there for you to spy
Am I the new American?
My mother is German
My father polish
I learned three languages
As I grew older
Both of them
Did love me well
And of each country did tell
That I could draw
From each well
Am I the new American?
My father is Chinese
My mother Spanish
Both crossed over the Rio Grand
I am in the make of my father
But I have my mother’s brown skin
Am I the new American?
poem by David E. Patton
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How It Was I Came To Be What I Am
[from early poems,1970's, youthful attempts at voice]
For 'Spider' Bottas
They would argue over tides
Who bade me come into the world.
One said, Six o'clock.
The other, No, twelve.
I was born at the thirteenth hour
All the while mother arguing,
This is not the time but a little spell,
While father argued it was death,
You are dying and your child, too,
Is dying. You have been poisoned.
It was full moon and high tide,
The hour of birth.
All arguments yielded to the tide's.
The moon lit up the stadium
Of their gripes while I was
Born amidst their sweeps at
Each other, the nurse neglecting
To wipe me free of blood and salt
Being drawn into their strife.
He was born at day, one said.
No, at night, and he is a she,
Said the other. The nurse,
Speaking truthfully, said,
Cleaning me at last, No,
You are both right. The child
Is he and she, a hermaphrodite
Born of two days labor, its head
Out of the womb the duration.
Ruination! father cried.
Fame, mother sighed.
Both right, the nurse agreed,
Of these fables are made.
Then father tossed me into the sea.
The nurse saved me who later
Became my lover, hiding my
Sexes with a four leaf clover.
poem by Warren Falcon
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The Purpose(Musing)
Woke up this morning
Decided I was gonna keep writing
I was gonna write more
Till my fingers hurt
And my soul bled on white pages
For I have been a lot
A daughter, a sister, a friend
A scientist, an artist, a thinker
But within the core of my being burns a fire
Though quenched severally
Its ashes like a phoenix re-ignites
I am a poet
Amidst all purposes, lies this purpose
Everyone's born to be one thing
Each may be different things to different people
But each is born to be one thing
So BE!
For the world needs you.
I earlier mentioned I was a thinker
I've written several great poems and articles in my head
They never made it to paper.
Remember this always:
An idea not coupled with action never gets any bigger than the brain cell it occupies
DO.
BE...
poem by Jenim Dibie
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