The frozen death in a quiet winter night!
['You can choose to live your life to your own agenda with a sense of personal purpose that gives your life ventures meaning and a feeling of fulfillment_This is called being at cause living from the inside out creating the life and reality you want.']-David R.J.Powell
Skeletal cypress trees mourn
for their offspring
At a stretch sleep the countless fallen leaves,
Quiet the hazy night and a small drizzle
with crispy snow that covers the helpless burial grounds?
I hear their babyish cries but I am voiceless?
I took out my pocket book and the pencil stub
and I address to my poor poet-God!
While a tear dropp hangs in my eye.
For you, I scribble this line Sir!
O I witnessed the frozen death
in this quiet winter night?
for my poet friend Pranab Chakraborty in gratitude!
Who's translated my few poems into his mother tongue Bengali and already published them in his co-editing magazine.
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Quiescence here like his deep poems!
'Here you come to New South Wales'
The board by the roadside glitters!
And I got down from the bus
A limousine for the first time in my life?
O it's an unusual quietness in this burial grounds
Situated in a small town perhaps his birth place?
At last after roaming around
I found his humble tomb!
I touched and it's cold
Like frozen death,
Suddenly I woke up!
But I was not certain
Whether it's morning
Or still it's night and where I have been
With my teary eyes?
*[He sent me his two poetry books 'Poems that bloom in my garden & The ancient poet', few weeks before he dies and this was written on the back with his mischievous hand writing and the friendly signature! .................To Nimal, my brother & friend thank you for being who you are.-Paddy Martin]
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A parcel from Overseas beyond the Great Barrier Reef!
As a habbit, firstly
I check the sender's name & address
Oh! It's from New South Wales
Australia, My dreamy burial grounds
To rest in peace with Aborigines!
Guess who sent the precious gift?
Brother Poet & Humanitarian
Paddy the Martin!
Two pocket size books
His poetry Anthologies.
'Poems that bloom in my garden
And The ancient Poet.'
I have not started yet the reading
But that smells a rare fragrance of a flower
In the garden of Eden!
Where the Humanity began!
Thank you is not enough
For the soft soul's honest smile
And I add this; 'Let us be friends
And smile together until we reach
The Horizon, Zenith or Infinity
Whatever it is promise to shake hand warmly!
* Humbly to my friend Paddy Martin in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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At last the love utters with a lisp?
In between the sky & Earth
He's born to a well to do family.
Getting his Master's degree
Chosen a bride from a shinning pedigree?
Beginning really a happy-go-lucky!
And changed into a misery.
Sweet words and melodies
Like darling, honeycomb & sweetheart
All disappeared in a while
Rat, Cat & idiot
Donkey, Monkey and go to hell...................continues
Day by day life goes thinner
As a piece of paper
Chest pains,
Heart attacks!
But rescued.
Then collapsed from the staircase
Ultimately the Graduate was paralyzed?
Oozing! Wet stockings
Loathsome and he dies in sleep
And the burial was a grand event with music!
But no address to be found hereafter?
to my poet friends Pranab Chakraborty, Premji Premji, Raj Nandy & rest of all.........................................!
[Consider that this day never dawns again.]
-Dante
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A sense of timeless running along the sojourn?
My child little aggressive in the cradle
and I know one day she jumps over the fence,
She cries with her nappy rash
and it's kind of poetry?
After seeing the outer green
Her excrements in green
She absorbed the colours.
Her farts like harmless bombs!
When she crawls I give my hand
to get up.
She learned faster in the University
and chosen her partner too.
As an adult she's busy with her offspring.
This old man became a child and helpless
and when I crawl hardly with my bedsores
Hope you give me your strong hand to bring me up
in a sense of timeless running along this sojourn?
to my poet friend John Thomas Tharayil in gratitude!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Down the Memory lane
You're a learned soul that I admire at all,
In my school days I had a pen-friend a girl from Sarawak, Malaysia
Her name is Punithawathy an Indian origin if I am not mistaken and when I came to Sarawak once on a ship.
I was forty then, little aggressive
I want to see her but I have lost her address.
So no more, life's a dream day by day soulship reaches to the place called 'Anchorage' close to a certain Port,
And then you dropp your Anchor and lay up!
No voyages hereafter!
* To the poet Rahul Aithal in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Who Plucked This Man-Bird's Discoloured Feathers?
Salivate & cries!
Tetanus,
Hysterics,
hotchpotch & this hopeless bird
caged on the top?
Pejudical to see the faraway Horizon
and no tower of strength?
to my poet friend Pranab!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Tom Zart's = Life Before Death
LIFE BEFORE DEATH
The Lord can close doors no man can open
And open doors no man can close.
It's up to us to prove our Heavenly worth
By our lifetime example of the path we chose.
Every night before sleep I say thank you to Heaven
For the past day I was allowed to love you and serve.
If I awake I say thank you once more
For God has blessed me far beyond what I deserve.
Tom's 480 Poems Are Free To Share!
By God's Poet
Tom Zart
Most Published Poet
On The Web!
Tom's 480 Poems Are Free To Share!
By God's Poet
Tom Zart
Most Published Poet
On The Web!
If Someone asks what's the beauteous thing you have seen in your life?
Definitely I tell him or her
The Honorable Death!
Open your eyes and see that poor man
Who lies in a cheaper casket like a Cardboard box
And the loved ones around him crying?
Tax collectors, Money lenders, sympathizers
And the Landlord of his rented house
All like statues and never grumble him again.
Precious heart stopped and blood river never flows
Lungs malfunctioned and no Oxygen intake
Strange odor and ooze from the nostrils
And the color of his skin turns into pale blue
Everybody wants the burial soon
And nobody likes to stay longer with him?
A humble dedication to my poet friend Pranab Chakraborty!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The trembling withered leaves in an Autumn Eve
The powerless green leaves already decayed
And the strong unsolicited aloof wind takes them away without their consent.
There is no any other option; unless the skeletal trees have to keep quiet against the mysterious unending force of nature.
Postscript
* Why did I tear down my glory? Why do you tear down my knowing when I haven't a better house to move into?
Extract............[ When the music's over (My journey into Schizophrenia) ]
-Ross.David.Burke-
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My dark palace illuminate by street lamps
The stone pillow by the roadside shares my burden
And I have nothing to lose as I do not have any personal belongings,
So, I am not worried about thieves.
Though I sleep under the starry night stars belong to the sky
And I have only one friend an old rat who comes for a turnip.
He's so grateful as he only eats half and the rest keeps for me.
We used to sing together in lonely nights
Moon listens but very quiet.
* I dedicate this scribbling to the poet Charles Bukowski for his great poem 'A Man'.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Quiet Life
Somethings happenin but Im just gonna turn a blind eye.
If I see no evil, ask no questions, and I hear no lies.
Cant communicate with minds that are small,
With some people its like talkin to the wall
And a fellow who walks away,
Lives to battle another day.
And Ive really got no appetite
For a fight,
Not tonight.
All I want is a quiet life.
Anything for a quiet life.
No ambition to rock the boat
When I can just stay afloat.
Be content with a quiet life
All I want is a quiet life.
Anything for a quiet life.
Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil at all.
Confidentially, between these walls,
Im on top of it all.
Id rather have em think Im deaf, dumb, and blind
Than aggravation every time I speak my mind
Keep _________ at a quiet life.
Anything for a quiet life.
I could easily blow my top,
Start a row,
But why start now?
Give your daddy a quiet life.
Give your mother a quiet life.
Anything for a quiet life.
[instrumental section]
Give your daddy a quiet life.
Give your mother a quiet life.
Anything for a quiet life.
Confidentially, between these walls,
Im on top of it all.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And I write this on your white tomb with a piece of charcoal
When I see the twilight sky
I think of you and your poem paintings!
When I hear a bird's chirping faraway
on a tree, I count your unsung poems?
Whenever I pass burial grounds
I believe that you're still alive
and write?
But you're gone and it's certain.
Do you remember we made a promise once
That one of us do our Epitaph?
Yes, it's my turn and I write this
on your white tomb with a piece of charcoal
and who writes on mine in your absence?
I dedicate this poem to the celebrated poet Khalil Gibran for his love letters!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Forgotten Fertility Myth
Pranab k c
27/06/2011
a deep depression
carries monsoon again
its raining
five days at a stretch
day and night
she is wet
her chastity
waiting to be ploughed
soil so soft
to be mould in creation
plough hard
my peasant friend
pour dropp to form seed
your personal rain
would make her corny
every dream
of your personal cloud
would make her smile festive
fertile soil seeks seedling
cultivate you the peasant
cultivate hard
cultivate with care
cultivate with unending passion
She waits to bear all the pain
for a pleasure of exposing a life again
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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A street child writes in the book of life!
Nobody inquires
My beautiful name,
My bad age
And magical gender?
They realize that I am a female
When I become a small mother very soon.
I am not quite sure this zig zag road is a haven
For an Orphan?
As the massive Armoured cars pass here very often.
But my poor qualifications are not enough for Heaven
And nobody smuggles to a Palace this ugly ragged Queen?
To the poetess Angelina Pandian in gratitude!
*@10.00 A.M. today in a coin Laundry, Stanton.
O that Hispanic little girl's tiny jade talking eyes forced me to write something and I found a throw away packet of cigarettes in the trash bin and the pencil stub always stuck in my holey pocket!
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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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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The unfinished journey
Darling!
If you feel boring
Take out my notebook
With the pencil stub
And write down
What I mutter please.
These lamp posts give us light
But they're stagnant.
Proud Noblemen pass with their limousines
But they never give us a lift.
Probably they believe that we dropp our dust
On their velvet seats.
You see the far away star that burns forever
Somehow we're bit lucky as we burn off & on.
If the Inn-keeper fond of poetry
We could have give this and stay a night free.
Perhaps in the next birth you may be a Noblewoman
And I am the same poor pilgrim.
Hope you stop your car and take me towards your Castle.
On the way I listen to your secret heart carefully
And do you remember me your old fellow journeyman?
*To Mikhail Aleksandrovich Sholokhov for his novel 'And quiet flows the Don.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Miss Sandy!
Troubled nature's waves
named as Sandy!
And they do all the precautions to survive?
But the poor man's hurricane longlasts since the beginning
as simple poverty and the rich binoculars
never see them as their own brothers & sisters?
to my poet colleague Pranab!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Penny for a Tick
If the dreams come true how beautiful the ugliest life!
The slippery Zig Zag road ends at the village Manor
And we got down, myself & wife from our tumbledown car!
It's a small drizzle and a Twilight
The Sun offs for the day it seems.
The Baron and the Baroness happy with us
For their advertisement in the Pennysaver
And he says; ' You are the ideal couple we expected
And really satisfied by seeing you! '
Wife makes different names of spicy meals
And cleans the household things.
The two Doberman familiar with me
And I pluck their ticks a penny for each.
Cut their high grass in the lawn
And night I read my poems.
The kind Baron offers me a Cuban cigar and a nightcap
And now I don't steal pennies from my beloved's piggy till.
In the night she wears her old nightgowns
And she looks like the Baroness!
I do marketing; Rides the Harley Davidson
That belongs to the Baron's one & only son
Who lives in a different state.
At the backyard there're scattered old tombs
And I guess their ancestors.
Secretly I tell my beloved; 'Darling this is the final roost of our Gypsy journey
And one day they bury us here, We must send the address to our loved ones
Perhaps their offspring win the Green Card Lottery and visit our graves some day! '
To my dearest poet friend Paddy Martin who undergoes a surgery and my blessings for his immediate recovery.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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When dreams are faraway!
Yet, I close my eye lids
and pretend that I sleep
Hear the cries of children
Where they're looking for parents,
Planes fly in the sky
and dropp not money
But the poor wait
and see perhaps some gifts.
Moon shines with stars,
and the clouds run
Still I am awake
Though I pretend
That I sleep?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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