My daughter writes from Australia
Dad! Iwas really amazed
By seeing your name on an Aborigine graveyard tomb!
I replied her; 'Do not get frighten please,
Dear daughter in this cycle of births & deaths
This aboritve Man lives and dies in every inch of this mysterious journey!
If you have time just keep a fragrant flower over there
As every father likes the fragrance! '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Stars in your eyes
Oh! It's really amazed me and a surprise too.
My fellow poet friend Max.Reif visited me on the 23 rd of Nov.'07
Early in the morning.(Both of us wished a happy thanksgiving!)
We had coffee and few doughnuts in a small restaurant in Anaheim.
I wanted to tell him that I have seen him before.
Yes my dear friend, I recount my previous births and I am sure that we have met in several occasions in different places.
This good practice goes forever and all of a sudden we met in the U.S.A.
You brought your precious guitar and a tiny mouth-organ
And you sang 'Stars in your eyes' in your deep clear voice.
That's your own golden lyrics.
Yes my dearest, I saw thousands of twinkling stars in your transparent blue eyes and I hear the sweetest melody that comes with your dark shadow
Wherever I go in this fruitless journey.
* Dedication to my friend Max!
In this cycle of births and deaths we meet in different names?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Father And Daughter
on a chair father sits
and daughter sits on his lap
mother is away
and father whistles a song
it was a long time
and mother dies earlier
than father
the daughter sets on a sail
far away
no one knows where
but everyone remembers
the talk becomes the official story
of the town
pretending to be happy just like any other
town in our history
the father dies and daughter
comes back
bringing the flowers
she lights a candle
she sheds no tears
poem by Suki Nakamura

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The Fragrance Of Virtue Rises To The Heavens
The blissful flower landed on the earthly dirt
And rooted its seeds on the bosom of mankind.
The flower blooms only in fruitful pure heart
Which grazes its petals like one hungry hind.
Virtues are the atoms of God, the holiest one.
The more we attain it, the more we appear near
To Him, His being, Virtues and godliness anon
As our soul drenches with immortal holy tear.
The earthy flower blooms, dies in perched air
With a fragrance that melts, melts, melts away.
But the fragrant flower of Virtue is always fair,
Its fragrance rises towards heavenly stairway.
poem by Osman Gani

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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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Father And Daughter
Father and daughter spend some quiet time together in the living room
Shining through the curtain is the sun
And outside is the glorious afternoon
Father reads to his daughter the poetry she loves
Father and daughter enjoy each other's company
Father takes his daughter by the hand
As they take a walk outside
Father cares for his daughter
And always wishes the very best to happen for her
poem by Justin Gildow

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Dear Father
Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?
You've given houses with two stories to my brothers,
And to me, a foreign land? Why dear father, why?
We (daughters) are just cows tied to your peg,
Will move on to where ever you drive us to, dear father.
We are just flower-buds of your garden,
And are asked for, in every household, dear father.
We are just birds from your cage,
Will fly off when its dawn again, dear father.
I've left at home, alcoves full of dolls;
And parted from my buddies too, dear father.
When my palanquin passed beneath the terrace,
My brother fainted and fell, dear father.
As I remove the curtain from the palanquin,
I see we've reached the beloved's house, dear father.
Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?
poem by Amir Khusro

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I Vote For The Earth!
i vote for the earth....
her mountains tall and strong,
standing from time to time.
her trees the fathers of wisdom,
the image of change and the cycle...
her oceans dark and mysterious,
holding life from beginning to beginning!
her fields of grasses long and weeping
for the fallen and forgotten....
her breasts giving blood,
her arms wrapping around,
all that lives and dies and lives....
i vote for the earth,
and walk naked through her gardens!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Someone Very Near
someone asked me to describe someone near
my eyes got the picture of you dear
my dear is sweet star among stars
describe to what, a star?
my dear is not a star, something more
my dear is a sunflower
that raised its wing for morning sun
describe to what, a flower?
my dear is not a flower, something more
this starts an end less journey
describe to what, a pleasant journey?
my dear is something more
poem by Kiran Raaz

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Life Is Always Shorter When We Think About It
an inch away
always an inch away from
sudden deaths
that is how we measure
time
luck makes it a little wider
a second
becomes meaningful
a friend dies alone
in his Makati apartment
but he was able
to say
good luck to all his friends
away from him
before that crucial moment
he made peace with God
i imagine
who's next
to succumb to a very silent
room
i imagine
what peace is there.
i think again
bubbles in my mind
life is too short
for all these quibbles.
i go out
take a walk
talk to no one
and bathe
in sunshine
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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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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Screw Faces
[Bob Marley]
Whoa, now!
Screwface know-a who fi frighten!
Screwface know-a who fi frighten!
Like I told, they say, "Coward, man".
Gonna keep some bones
And all violent man gonna weep and moan.
He that exalted him say, "Yeah!"
Shall be obeyed.
Remember Jah - Jah children deh!
Don't dread no pain.
Fear do we go now
To the rivers of ungodly waters, we'll fear no foe
(fear no foe, fear no foe).
Wherever I go,
Not even the pestilence
That crawl at I'n'I
Can't do - wo-wo-wo - me no wrong (just can't do me no wrong).
Oh, now!
I tell you what red is!
I tell you what I know:
(Screwface know-a who fi frighten!)
Screwface know-a who fi frighten!
Screwface know-a who fi frighten! Wo, now!
(Screwface know-a who fi frighten!) Screwface will frighten
screwface!
(Screwface know-a who fi frighten!) Long time gone, y'all!
(Screwface know-a who fi frighten!) Screwface will frighten
screwface!
Wo, yeah! Now!
(Screwface know-a who fi frighten!)
---
/Intrumental ending/ /fadeout/
---
song performed by by Bob Marley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dying Flower
Each Flower Petal Slowly Dying
Light Whispers Of Death
Hanging In The Brisk Afternoon Air
Lightly A Petal Floats Towards The Ground
A Gust Of Wind Quickly Whisks It Away
One By One The Flower Becomes Bearer
As Each Petal Vanishes.
The Day's Become Darker
The Nights Lighten
And The Flower Becomes Lonely
Till Eventually Only A Stem Remains
To Show It's Cycle Of Life.
The Flower Willows Towards It's End
The Petals Become Scarce
What Once Used To Be A Colour Delight
Now Hangs In Deaths Mist
As An Emerald Waiting...
Waiting For The Last Petal To Die.
Finally The Emerald Stem Dies Away
And Slowly Decay
For Again One Day
It Shall Show Its Colours
And Whistle In The Wind
With All It's Petals In Full Bloom...
poem by Ian Humphreys

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Love and Fragrance
The fragrance of a flower
Like the fragrance of a woman
Is a declaration of fertility
The poetry of seduction
When you hold a flower
When you touch your lover
Traces of the fragrance stay with you
They're ingrained in your skin
Much like the single red rose
Standing alone, erect
Aflame with desire
My passion is only for you
And like a delicate flower
Our love is fueled by a fragrance
A fragrance that is uniquely yours
A scent that demands my attention
But in the end
Without love
Without passion
There would be no fragrance
~Rick Berry
poem by Rick Berry

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Another Day
The rose now dies
But still lives in my soul.
The fragrance flies
With petals that it stole
From my flower.
This hour.
All special things
Just pass away
Like true love.
That we handcuffed
For another day.
My heart now dies
But still beats in cold corridors.
Where I pace empty floors.
Called my life.
Where every scar
From her knife
Disfiguires the face of love.
I look above,
God looks away.
And I survive
Another day.
poem by Kevin East

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Kingdom of the dead souls
I couldn't be a Crown Prince in my whole life
And here in the isolated graveyard
I am the King of the benighted Kingdom
As I am the only tomb-grave stands among the paupers.
The poor grave-digger used to drink beside my tomb, I too intoxicate
And sometimes we talk about lot of things.
The poor rest graves very quiet as hermits even after their deaths.
(And I hear the melody, miraculous pan flute of Georghe Zamfir's in a distant.)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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A Fourtunate Father With His New Daughter, -Dedicated To Joyce Loba Flores. by Ray Subrata
The unquenched thirst,
Of Father, for daughter’s love,
Fountains with a call, -Baba,
From a voice of distant land,
While I am in India, my daughter,
In the farthest Philippines stands.
The face of youngest daughter Hamma,
Appears in Jhoy Loba’s image,
I send her a request, and wait.
‘Good evening sir, its my pleasure ‘
‘Thank you sweet little daughter like friend’,
And my psychic lingered willing suspense.
‘It is my pleasure Baba’, -came the message,
Moment made eternity, opening a father’s passage ‘
I felt a touch, as soothing as much,
From the voice of my new daughter,
A flower divine, by nature shines,
By her beauty in my Father’s bower!
The Father in Man remains hidden,
And it opens with a daughter’s call,
It is more than a glory to a Man,
As in the daughter, -the mother resembles!
poem by Bazi alis Subrata Ray

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The Cry of the Dreamer
I am tired of planning and toiling
In the crowded hives of men;
Heart-weary of building and spoiling,
And spoiling and building again.
And I long for the dear old river,
Where I dreamed my youth away;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a toiler dies in a day.
I am sick of the showy seeming
Of a life that is half a lie;
Of the faces lined with scheming
In the throng that hurries by.
From the sleepless thoughts' endeavour,
I would go where the children play;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a thinker dies in a day.
I can feel no pride, but pity
For the burdens the rich endure;
There is nothing sweet in the city
But the patient lives of the poor.
Oh, the little hands too skillful,
And the child-mind choked with weeds!
The daughter's heart grown willful,
And the father's heart that bleeds!
No, no! from the street's rude bustle,
From the trophies of mart and stage,
I would fly to the woods' low rustle
And the meadows' kindly page.
Let me dream as of old by the river,
And be loved for the dream alway;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a toiler dies in a day.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly

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Man and God
Men die; dogs die; flies die; germs die.
They die but duration varies.
News dies, songs die and fashions die.
They die but at different spells.
God makes creatures and their deaths.
God is not sorry for such deaths.
Man made creations and not for their deaths.
Man is nervous for such deaths.
07.06.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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The red rose flower, asked god
The red rose flower
Asked god
You have given me
Beautiful look
Sweet fragrance
Eye catching color
Everybody likes me
However,
Why have you given?
Thorns to my plant
God replied
No one gets every thing
He wants
Even all my children
Are not nice
I gave thorns to
Your plant
To protect you from
Careless hands
You should be contented
With what you have
Always bear in mind
Other flowers on the earth
Do not have
Even half the qualities
You have
02-03-2012
280-15-03-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela

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They are sad
They are sad
Butterflies were dancing,
Bees were kissing him.
Bumble bee was sucking him
& children were seeing him with charm.
It was a marigold on the top of the plant.
On the other hand some thorns were seeing the glory of the flower
and
their eyes were full of thrust & tears
Because none was seeing them.
In the last they asked its reason from the flower.
The flower tells them the truth that
They are without beautiful colors,
Juice & fragrance
And he is full of colors, juice & fragrance
So every one likes him.
Another fact is this that the flower
is a symbol of peace & love.
On the other hand the thorn is a symbol of cruelty & pain.
I think that unaccountable people in this world
behave like a thorn so they are sad.
poem by Vijay Gupta

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