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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Related quotes
Buttercups under the flamboyant trees beside the lake
The old ferryman waits at the river bank
for passengers?
But only one he sees
A lass with a cane basket,
Who believes that his old fiancee's
eldest daughter?
In this off season no more buttercups
But the old flamboyant trees still stand
They only know their past friendship.
Though he grips the oars well
Yet he couldn't hold the ancient faded love?
[One does not pour new wine into old skins.]-Jesus
nimal dunuhinga
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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A whisper in the venturesome pilgrimage
I remember my golden school days.
An attractive girl and her toothy smile.
She gets angry sometimes
When I ask her what toothpaste she prefers.
Perhaps the time brings us to a standstill?
And I became a pupil in the life-school.
She looks after her children with all the burdens.
We met accidentally on a rainy day.
'Hey! You look like a whizz-kid.'
She told me with that toothy smile.
'Thank you Blossom' I replied.
'You still remember my name.'
'How can I forget a fragrant flower? '
'How are your wife and family? '
'I don't have that sort.'
'Still a bachelor? '
'Yes Madam.'
'I am a widow.' She whispered.
Then I felt like the whole world collapsed on me!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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No regrets Sailor; And yet to go?
He pushes the boat into the sea.
He jumps and holds the rickety oars,
Sits comfortably
And he rows.
Waves welcome him in a friendly manner
And he sings his soliloquy!
'The trip won't be rough and calm like a lass.'
Then the vast sky responds; 'There won't be rough at all
But you know where you go?
Wherever you go do not come to a conclusion
That the voyage is over and yet to go? '
[Take care my seafarer son! And please convey my loving regards to old friends perhaps with their wreckage, if you meet them on your way! Let them know that your grandpa still breathes hardly! ]
* To Oskar! one of my poet friends.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Though it's bitter the elixir in my village thatched school
Before the Sun peeps in the morning
Transparent sky is gray like a woman's mourning.
I touched her warm tears gently along the grassy road
And it's really food for my crying bare feet.
Far away I walk towards the thatched school
And the Headmaster holds the cane as a sword
If somebody comes late.
Though it's painful the strikes I had, Yet my life has tempered like steel
And I must thank you Sir for the elixir you wake me up all the time in the drowsy life.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I walk slowly to my old thatched school
Birch trees have taken off their winter clothes
And exposed to the smiling Sun.
I see no raindrops and birds flew in the sky
Some robins chat with the worms on the playground
Where my grandson merry with the other children in the school.
And the bell rang all lined up like a fancy train to go to their classes.
I was so sad where's my school and the golden class.
The parapet wall divided the Girl school next door
Remember we peeped through the broken spaces
When the flowery girls come out to the grounds!
I was like a punished student at the belfry hall
In the bygone schooldays?
If there's a school for elderly/handicapped
I'll get a photocopy of my tattered certificate of birth
And I really dream to enroll as soon as possible?
[A new broom sweeps clean, but the old brush knows the corners.]
-Irish Proverb
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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April
[Every tear is answered by a blossom,
Every sigh with songs and laughter blent,
Apple-blooms upon the breezes toss them,
April knows her own and is content.]-Sarah Channing Woolsey
March already gone
and I have come for a short stay.
Then May comes
When I leave quietly,
Likewise, all the months
in the old calendar
come & go?
It's so ridiculous
New year colored calendar peeps again
with big letters like new politicians?
The Headmaster who knows all seasons and the schedule
We're just a heap of pupils in the thatched life-school?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My dear uncle
To my dear uncle Prabahkaran,
I lost my parents, brothers and sisters.
Only I was survived
And I am eight years old female child.
My father is a Buddhist and mother Christian
And I am an innocent.
All my books and uniforms burnt
And I cannot go to school now.
I am not angry with you
If possible please adopt me,
Treat me as your child
And send me to a school.
I promise you one day I learn Tamil well
And solve your problem; “misunderstanding”
Not with guns uncle,
With my little knowledge I gained from your school.
Please don’t believe these Norwegian peace-broker uncles
They dream of our future Oil –Rigs?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I Can't Go to School
I can’t go to school because I am sick
If I walk out my house I’ll get hit by a brick
I can’t go to school because I’m afraid
On my way there I might get run over by a huge parade
I can’t go to school because I have a funereal to attend
School uniforms just aren’t the new trend
I can’t go to school because I woke up late
I broke my thumb while learning how to skate
I can’t go to school because I feel a little blue
My brother stuck my hands together with supper glue
I can’t go to school because school is boring
I wonder what excuses I’ll have tomorrow morning
poem by Jasmine Shipp
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Hey, Headmaster
(tennant/lowe)
Hey, headmaster, whats the matter with you?
Whyre you always so serious, why so blue?
All the kids in the school have seen you
Being patient with the boys who fool you
When you used to hit them with your ruler
So independent too
Hey, headmaster, whats the matter with you?
Theres a crisis rumoured in the school
The boys have cut their hair short to look cool
Examination time is drawing near
Disintegration of the football team
No one seems to want to play for real
In classroom, club or pool
Hey, headmaster, whatre you gonna do?
Theres an invitation in the post
To a reading party on the coast
Pack your bags up, you old bibliophile
Get together with your friends, who will
Give you time to think and time to kill
With independent hosts
Hey, headmaster, arent you gonna go?
Hey, headmaster, arent you gonna go?
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The blind flower-seller
With the cane basket
and the white cane
She comes to the Sunday market
Sitting on the small bench
She sells different colors of flowers
Though she cannot see
By each fragrance of them
She knows the name and the pedigree too?
And I sniff a rare fragrance while passing
that comes from her hidden little-heart flower?
to my deceased poet friend Paddy Martin!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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School Just School
School we need it
school, friends
school you have teachers
school is great
high school is even better
college, PARITES
school you mite find your true love
new experiences everyday
school, dances
school just school
school who dose not love it
school is fun
school, preps
school, classes
school, math, science, computer classes
school is great love it
school just school
we need school
poem by Kerri King
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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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School: (
I dont like school you big fool
I'd rather be doing a dool,
Than go to school.
The teachers are ok,
But I just want to float away.
Don't want to go to school today.
Maybe it will snow,
But it will be cold though.
I just don't want to go to school.
The only thing I like is the friends.
But when we grade things,
I always loose my pens.
I just don't want to go to school.
poem by Hannah Reynolds
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one day at school, Korea (1801)
I don’t like school, Sir
most venerable teacher;
and though you are kind, Sir
and all my classmates too
and you all help me study and learn
like you make me know
the first five characters in the alphabet
but the moment I am out of school
all I can remember
are the rice-cakes and sweets and the dumplings my mother makes
and true, Sir
most venerable teacher
you teach me the numbers
and I can count from 1 to 5
when I am in class
but when I’m out
I love the toys my father brings
and I play with the wooden toy soldiers
and I love the ducks and the clay horses;
and I really can’t remember the first five letters
or the first five characters
when I lie in bed
and when I am back in class Sir
dragged in by Old Madam Toothless Bong
who always knows where I am wherever I try to run
I can’t remember anything anyone taught me, Sir
most venerable teacher...
I know Sir
all of you have spoken to me
and my dad and my mom
and Old Madam Toothless Bong
and all my friends in class
I must study so I can go to the city and find work
but alI I want to do, Sir
most venerable teacher
is to play and eat and sleep when it is time
and one day, Sir
most venerable teacher
(I know you worry about me)
when I’m grown and big
I’ll make toys and I’ll sell them
and make money for me and my family;
and I’ll make all those sweets and dumplings
and feed my family...
so please, Sir
most venerable teacher
because I don’t like school
and I can’t remember anything
do not worry about me and let me go to the fields now
and I shall grow to be tall as the trees
and as rich as the rice fields...
________________ _________________________
poem based on painting: “Seodang”
(private elementary school in town)
by Kim Hong-do, Danwon (1745-1806)
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Last day of my school
That was the day when i met
My good friends during the sunset
And having many regrets
My last day at school
Everyone was so worried
here had those times buried
When to reach the school we hurried
My last day at school
Leaving the school hurt me a lot
What a present I silently got
And I promised to forget my friends not
My last day at school
From the beginning to the end
Sweet messages were sent
Everything happened that meant
My last day at school
Sometimes I stop thinking
That my beautiful moments are sinking
And I keep my friend’s phones ringing
My last day at school
I do not like to enter
The new college centre
This all seems like dementor
My last day at school
When I weep
And my tears fall deep
And I got precious gifts to keep
My last day school
poem by Muhammad Raza Master
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A Swimmer and a Crocodile
He wants to cross the river
But the ferryman is nowhere
The notice says Crocodiles and beware!
Swimmer in a clue.
An old crocodile came
And tears in its eyes.
'I was watching since in the morning
And I am so sorry,
Believe me I am a different one
Always help others
And if you don't mind
I can give you a ride
Before it gets dark.'
'I too scare of darkness
And I love rides but not in a rough weather uncle.'
Swimmer replied.
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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A little girl in her father's boots
Father sleeps
And Mother cooks
Where she plans to go in her father's boots?
War's over my little daughter
And keep that boots in a corner
You need that for a better school in future
Where they do not teach killings each other?
*When friends meet, hearts warm.
-John Ray
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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