The Herbal Oil Vendor
My poor Mom was in the General Hospital
For an immediate surgery
And we take her meals everyday
Brother and I are alternatively.
The Herbal oil Vendor in his Sixties
Who stands at the entrance gate
And sell his precious stuff.
He boasts; ' These bottles are worth than money
Straight away from Himalayas
And the one and only remedy for loss of hair.'
He's totally a Bald headed
And nobody query why don't he applies this panacea?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Nitty-Gritty
The man who sells herbal oil and some other kinds,
Near by a hospital and he praise about his medicine
Which collects from Himalaya, gives nourishment for the falling hair?
But he is a bald head and nobody inquires.
A Sorcerer play tricks in public but people believes him.
The King and the Queen exploit the whole state but the citizen still in worship.
The notorious womanizer wanders here and there and at last he expects a virgin as his spouse.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Queer
A friend of mine sent me a letter from a hospital
Who was undergone a cardiac surgery.
I'll be all right and tell all the friends.
What a ridiculous dream it was last night?
A queen dragged me to her palace.
Then I said that I had a heart surgery last week.
She said I don't want your heart and I need something else.
Luckily I was awake as the nurse came to check my pulses.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Handsome Ambulance driver's wealthiest fiancee and the heart patient
'I am taking her, the innocent girl
to the emergency unit,
sorry I cannot attend to your
Birthday party, please excuse me! '
He passed the message to her.
And she betrayed him
As she found her new boy friend
in the party, a minister's prodigal son?
And the innocent patient girl
recovered from her surgery,
It's not a dream
She recognized him in the hospital
Some other day!
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Pumpkin grows in Midwife's yard
Her mother is a midwife
and she is a nanny to her far relative.
He collects pumpkins hastily for the sunday fair.
Do you think a street vendor sees pleasant dreams?
Anyhow please do not get surprised
if a street vendor marries a nanny
and she delivers precious children safely
as her mother knows the job perfectly.
Still the pumpkins grow in the yard
and the vendor collects them without any bargaining.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Coming soon
The stretched bare land
Reaches the infinity
And there's a small security billet
At the entrance of the barbed wire fence.
And the board says; 'A special Hospital complex,
The proposed skyscraper is the tallest building in the World.'
I walk nearly ten miles from my shack everyday to this place
Along the road back to normality.
The guard from the new generation
Though he's like my son I call him brother!
We used to chat a long and whenever I go there I am broke.
This polite brother offer me a pull out of his non-filter cigarette
And we smoke fifty fifty to our defeated lungs.
Days, months and years passed
And the boy is already a middle aged now
And I am in my final list?
In my tattered Resume for the post of Carpenter
Some letters were already disappeared.
The project won't be a success as some restrictions from the Top
Because the top floor of the building is very close to the Heaven it seems!
*Still I remember the first salary [my first job is a power-loom weaver] which I gave to my poor Mom, then she said; ' One day my son goes to the Heaven! '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Was Comrade Jesus Christ a Palestinian and Mr.Judas Iscariot was a Jew?
Anyway Comrade Jesus fought against the unjust
And Judas betrayed him?
I write this New Nursery Rhyme to poor kindergarten
'Youend-O'
Please Re-name this cruel World
for the Human Welfare?
a humble dedication to United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon!
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When the Manor is burning
The Housekeeper a bald-headed senile
Who search his lost toothless comb in a hurry.
* Since his childhood the orphan waged for the baroness.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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An honest plea from a scribbler to survive
Time has come to beg it seems
And I am sorry that I do not know the know-how.
Poor wife and myself entangled in a political asylum case here.
Money! Money! Money! Dogs never sniff that I know but I need a lump some for the Solicitor who look after us.
I have altogether 800 scribblings the only wealth I own
And if a philanthropist would like to have a kind word with me,
Herewith I submit my curriculum-vitae please.
Nimal.Dunuhinga
1836, W.Sumac Lane, Apt.#8.
Anaheim,
Ca.92804-6944
E-mail [email protected]
mobile phone # (714) 224-6987
* I am sorry my dear poet friends this is not a propaganda but a true yelp from a human-dog.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Twin sisters in an Emporium
A destitute stands infront of the shop
And he thinks if rains he could have jump inside.
The twin sisters smiled with him and inquired what he wants?
'Precious smiles are more worth than anything in the shop.'
The innocent muttered.
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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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?
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Habitation
In this mysterious cycle of birth & death
He is a habitual vagabond who crawls for a habitable place where he can breathe leisurely?
But his lethargy they point out as a weakness and the hard boiled plump superiors they query about his applicable papers and let down him easily.
Straight away he answered like a man; 'Honoured Sir/Madam, all my relevant documents are with my half brother & sister Adam & Eve.
And it takes me a long time to bring those rubbish back from the garden of Eden for your kind perusal.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A decayed Inn
A skinny vagabond comes from afar,
and he himself doesn't know
where he comes from?
Or his destination.
Perhaps this could be a stopover.
He is only a tenant of the building
and it's belongs to a debutante
who lives in delusion.
Poor fellow needs a tinker to mend his soul
and he is anxiously searching a panacea.
Will he be able to find?
before he enlisted to the run away crowd.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Bootee!
I found
your
precious
bootee
Mom
in my dark room!
I tried
them
to my
wearied feet again.
But it's not fit?
Then I realized that
I am closer to your
resting place!
to all the mothers knitted our lives!
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The old-timers around here still shake their heads and chuckle about that city slicker who came through, trying to peddle 'hair restorer.' He took everyone's money in a poker game, so when he tried to sell the bottles of hair restorer, nobody had any money left to buy it
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
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For My Inner Sickness?
Hey! My pain killer
You boil Lotus root
and fry Asparagus
check everyday
the blood sugar level
But why did you hide
my Nirva-nic drink?
I just want to spin my head a little
With the spinning Karma-ful World!
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I hear the purple sky laments in a twilight
Yes, I am proud
As I am big!
And I have a Sun
Moon and stars
Extricate passing clouds
What about the beautiful rain Goddess?
Yet, I am far away
from precious human beings?
*[The man who wins may have been counted out several times, but he didn't hear the referee.]-H.E.Jansen
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His poor eating house
You all can have a scanty meal there
And extremely sorry if the food is not tasty.
Really he is not a cook and the cook is his wife.
She is not well these days and the doctor says
It’s seems to be morning sickness.
The poor chap in his sixties and still survives.
* How can a man survive in this complicated life journey?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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If trash bin could speak?
Why not?
Yes, Trash bin talks
very politely.
When I do the garbage in the gas station
I heard; 'Hey! Chum gas price goes down
Isn't it?
It seems that you're not happy
and must be tired counting money
and collecting the garbage?
If you prefer we cold have exchanged our status
But I am not familiar with those colored notes!
They never peep here? '
Then I replied him; 'Dear friend!
Your position is better than me,
when the truck comes
totally you're empty,
But I always count this mystic dirty notes
That belong to the others
And really it burns?
[The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family.]-Thomas Jefferson
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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No lullabies since you all left the roost?
Scattered leaves
drift on the pond
and play with ripples
Mother tree stands!
Alone she whispers;
'Never mind they get real freedom now
The whole year they stuck with me.
And I hear the faraway thunderstorm
with her usual singsong.
That won't take a long time to bring me down
O this poor weak & skeleton!
[It's time we had uncommon schools, that we did not leave off our education where we begin to be men and women.It's time that villages were Universities.]-Henry David Thoreau, Walden.
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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