The regrets of an old singing mountain
I touch the sky and your passing clouds in vain
Because there was no any gratitude shown.
They just hit my peak and run away.
Sun, Moon, Stars and Angels they all mock and pass remarks.
And I was disgusted of being alone.
If I could move like a good man in a bad society
Then I walk in every corner around the World
And tell them whoever meets about my boredom.
I dedicate this poem to the deceased Marxist Sri Lankan singer Gunadasa.Kapuge. Still I remember one of his sad songs;
'Friends! We are not mountains in rivalry
But only transparent streams that run into one river.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My lonely Palm tree
A leaf of the palm, borne as a symbol of victory
But you are isolated like me,
Though we are tall like a Watchtower yet cannot touch the pallid sky.
You have a simple stem and terminal crown of large leaves.
But I am uprooted in the saga and and my broken crown pawned for a song.
Dedication to the deceased Marxist Sri Lankan celebrated singer *Gunadasa.Kapuge
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Bride from an Orphanage
An innocent virgin from a hidden haunted house
Who comes out to the new civilized world?
The Bridegroom is unknown from the lower depths?
We all wish them a happy wedded life forever
And bring a dozen of polite offspring to this lopsided cruel world?
* I humbly dedicate this poem to the prominent Sri Lankan singer Maestro Pandith Amaradeva and the lyrics of this great song by the celebrated poet Mahagama Sekara............
' The river flows from the past
And the beauty of the dream world
I see in your eyes
my beloved.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Hey! That Jolly Good fellow who works in a Gas Station now.
The notorious scribbler who wants to change the sky
And replace a new Sun and Moon,
Stuck in a place where he provides fuel to the mischievous vehicles
That run on the slippery road.
The schedule was in the night where he struggles from ten to six.
He counts the stars as usual and waits till a kind star
That comes down voluntarily.
I dedicate this poem to all my poet friends in gratitude.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Moon Over The Sea
The moon relinquished sharp-edge cliffs at sea line,
And with transparent gold: the waters shine;
On board of their pointed boat, this evening
The friends enjoy their heated glass of wine.
When looking at the clouds passing swiftly
Through the reflection of the moonlight post;
Some of the friends will find those clouds closely
Resembling the holy women’s ghosts.
Another group imagine those clouds
As heaven bound souls of pious men;
The third of friends insist without doubts,
The clouds resemble caravan of swans.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
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267
This poem shall remember
The port of Dumaguete
The gentle waves of the boulevard
Where we once walked
Under the moon and stars
Where the wind was fresh and cool
Where time was once eternal
To your children and husband
And to my wife
And even to our friends
This poem is nothing
After all we never made it
But to me
This poem is more than significant
This is a love poem
To be recited again
In Dumaguete
The moon and stars
shining at night
And the waves of the sea
Bouncing on the boulevard
Still so excited
Like how I feel today as I write
This poem
I am not sure
Somehow somewhere
sometime
If it is still
With you
********************
and if by chance
you read this
do not blame
me or anybody
or yourself
do not even
blame the stars
they are just
taking their
own course
****************
this is nothing but just
another poem for you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This poem is just a poem
This poem shall remember
The port of Dumaguete
The gentle waves of the boulevard
Where we once walked
Under the moon and stars
Where the wind was fresh and cool
Where time was once eternal
To your children and husband
And to my wife
And even to our friends
This poem is nothing
After all we never made it
But to me
This poem is more than significant
This is a love poem
To be recited again
In Dumaguete
The moon and stars
shining at night
And the waves of the sea
Bouncing on the boulevard
Still so excited
Like how I feel today as I write
This poem
I am not sure
Somehow somewhere
sometime
If it is still
With you
********************
and if by chance
you read this
do not blame
me or anybody
or yourself
do not even
blame the stars
they are just
taking their
own course
****************
this is nothing but just
another poem, candice.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Death roams not only in the evenings
Beloved! We met in different costumes along this endless cycle of births & deaths.
We touched each other with secret whispers,
Then we discussed in a friendly manner about life, love, sex and fear of change, challenges and lot of things.
But the corrosive noble death obstructed our path.
He is the only person that never changes his rotten name
Comes with the same opaque identity
And who grabs our innocent personality?
I dedicate this poem to the deceased Sri Lankan celebrated poetess Monica.Ruwan.Pathirana
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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T8
there is a winding river
beside tall mountains
you must know that we have
crossed this river
ten times already
it is the same river
winding through the banks
of these foggy mountains
the tall cogon grasses
can deceive us and so
are the boulders of rocks
that lie along our paths
we are grasping for air
to reach the highest peak of these range
of mountains and valleys and
plains
at the topmost
there we can see the truth and negate
that we can never step twice
on that same river that winds through the hillsides
snake, boa, venomous circuitous foggy paths
damned, we stepped on the same river more than twice
this is the tenth, and this is the highest peak
the world is nothing but a winding snake.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An Excursion to Nilgiris(Ooty)
We ran so fast
by a mizzling road
to Doddabetta,
the highest peak of Nilgris.
The tallest teaks
turned to take a peep
at our boys ascending the hills
like the mounting clouds.
“ Hey, our boys move and dance
clap their hands and sing lovely songs;
catch the passing clouds in their palms,
fling themselves on the way
and into the world entrancing! ”.
We were looting at noon
the Ooty apples
and tootling into the sylvan glades
of the Botanical gardens.
Oh, our boys in motor- boats
gore through the shining lake
in the midst of green vales around.!
They go deep and deep
into the far end of life
where the angels drizzle
with their happy drops of tears.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The Scaffolding
The poles and planks were erected.
And on the platforms the skinny people work for the buildings.
Day by day the skyscraper goes high with the workers
And they are very close to the Sun, Moon and Stars.
Though they love the Stars none of them aware of the heavenly bodies' language.
The construction was almost over and these hopeless souls returned to their tumbledown shacks.
I dedicate this poem to the contemporary poet Frank James Ryan, Jr. in gratitude.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I haven't seen the spongy sky a long time
Not because that I am lazy as my doctor advised me to look down always
due to my neck pain.
This nagging Spondylitis gives me trouble on and off.
And I missed lot of my bird friends they fly in the serene sky.
If the transparent sky understand my dialect, excuse me I want to write my biography.
Yet I am scared your friendly clouds take my words away.
The twinkle stars in the night sky like poor poets they sing their sad songs,
And I am sorry my doctor advised me to look down always and I realized that I never get a chance to touch the mysterious stars.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I No Longer Sing The Songs Of Societal Significance
i no longer sing your songs of societal significance
i have forgotten them
honestly, i do not remember a word
i cannot even hum the tune of your songs of protest
(our songs)
against the government, honestly, i do not like them anymore
even if i remember
all i remember are unnecessary, premature, untimely deaths
of friends
of our self-made revolutions when we were so young and full
of idealism
in our hearts
now i dim
like a dying light
tempted by the shining sun of new rules and
the philosophy of
mature contentment
i no longer climb your mountains, i no longer walk the long walks
on dark nights, passing the snake rivers
and gorilla forests and monkey trees and slippery fins of fish
and eels and
eagles,
i no longer have your callous feet
i cannot remember you
you ask me
if i love you still, i cannot remember, i have none of your bravery
honestly,
i have become this coward cloud, raining
regrets
the peace that i do not deserve
the hiding
in open places, without a name, without a trace,
mouth shut, tongue clipped,
and then you walk away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An inkling of a stranger
The mysterious whisper since a long time
Turned into a conversation.
She appears in a transparent gown
And introduced herself;
'I am Edeath your friendly enemy,
Still a virgin and I give you a specific time.
Sorry, I have to carry out orders from the top
But we are friends tyrannical.
*[ I dedicate this poem to the journalist Amantha Perera for his great article was published in the recent Time magazine.'Postcard: Jaffna. After decades of civil war between the Tamil Tigers and the Sri Lankan Army, one road connecting north and south has finally reopened. Scars from the past more than 25 years of conflict has left its mark on the city of Jaffna.']
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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When You Say Yes To Me
when you say yes
to me
and i say
hurray!
ah! my world has become
my world and your world
has become my world too
the mountains move
the sun brightens and dances
the moon keeps on smiling
the stars keep on winking
the grasses fill the emptiness
the rivers sing
the seas keep on waving
the clouds are not nimbus
ah! whatever that be
i know, that our world shall be
as beautiful as we are meant to be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pop Singer
Never wanted to be no pop singer,
Never wanted to write no pop songs.
Never had no weird hair to get my songs over.
Never wanted to hang out after the show.
Pop singer (writing) of pop songs.
Never wanted to have my picture taken.
Now, who would want to look into these eyes?
Just want to make it real - good, bad or indifferent.
Thats the way that I live and thats the way that Ill die (as a)
Pop singer (of) pop songs.
Pop singer, writing of pop song.
Never wanted to be no pop singer,
Never want to write no pop songs.
Never wanted to have a manager over for dinner.
Never wanted to hang out after the show.
Pop singer, writing pop songs.
Never wanted to be no pop singer, of pop songs.
A pop singer.
Never wanted to write no pop songs.
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Rare Gift!
Dam patin la sanda besayanawa
Akase ranwan patai
Samugena yanna magen tawa mohotai
Nododa inne ayi?
[ Purple Moon sets and the sky is gold
To say good bye is close by
Why don't you speak? ]
(The immortal song by Gunadasa Kapuge & Malanie Bulathsinhala and the precious lyrics written by the veteran dramatist Lucien Bulathsinhala.)
He who painted the twilight sky
in my faded dreams,
Talked to me;
'I 'll give you a precious gift
on your 61st Birth day!
A modernized wheelchair
You can use as a glider!
But be careful as I cannot give you a guarentee on brakes! '
(for them!)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sonnet: Rivalry
Rivalry exists in some professions;
’Tis also found in the animal world;
Sometimes, it occurs in a few sessions,
Among nations, leading to a war cold.
The King cobra devours the python huge,
When a fit of ravenous hunger strikes;
Whenev’r jealousy in hearts takes refuge,
Rivalry stems from the many dislikes,
Friends become rivals in getting first place,
And become foes and seal each other’s fate;
Chivalry is rivalry’s healthy face;
Rivalry leads to no development state.
Rivalry has no place in any life;
Chivalry is good especially in strife.
poem by John Celes
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New Year's Chimes
What is the song the stars sing?
(And a million songs are as song of one)
This is the song the stars sing:
(Sweeter song's none)
One to set, and many to sing,
(And a million songs are as song of one)
One to stand, and many to cling,
The many things, and the one Thing,
The one that runs not, the many that run.
The ever new weaveth the ever old,
(And a million songs are as song of one)
Ever telling the never told;
The silver saith, and the said is gold,
And done ever the never done.
The chase that's chased is the Lord o' the chase,
(And a million songs are as song of one)
And the pursued cries on the race;
And the hounds in leash are the hounds that run.
Hidden stars by the shown stars' sheen:
(And a million suns are but as one)
Colours unseen by the colours seen,
And sounds unheard heard sounds between,
And a night is in the light of the sun.
An ambuscade of lights in night,
(And a million secrets are but as one)
And anight is dark in the sun's light,
And a world in the world man looks upon.
Hidden stars by the shown stars' wings,
(And a million cycles are but as one)
And a world with unapparent strings
Knits the stimulant world of things;
Behold, and vision thereof is none.
The world above in the world below,
(And a million worlds are but as one)
And the One in all; as the sun's strength so
Strives in all strength, glows in all glow
Of the earth that wits not, and man thereon.
Braced in its own fourfold embrace
(And a million strengths are as strength of one)
And round it all God's arms of grace,
The world, so as the Vision says,
Doth with great lightning-tramples run.
And thunder bruiteth into thunder,
(And a million sounds are as sound of one)
From stellate peak to peak is tossed a voice of wonder,
And the height stoops down to the depths thereunder,
And sun leans forth to his brother-sun.
And the more ample years unfold
(With a million songs as song of one)
A little new of the ever old,
A little told of the never told,
Added act of the never done.
Loud the descant, and low the theme,
(A million songs are as song of one)
And the dream of the world is dream in dream,
But the one Is is, or nought could seem;
And the song runs round to the song begun.
This is the song the stars sing,
(Tonèd all in time)
Tintinnabulous, tuned to ring
A multitudinous-single thing
(Rung all in rhyme).
poem by Francis Thompson
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In Vain
The stars in the sky
In vain
The tragedy of Hamlet
In vain
The key in the lock
In vain
The sleeping mother
In vain
The lamp in the corner
In vain
The lamp in the corner unlit
In vain
Abraham Lincoln
In vain
The Aztec empire
In vain
The writing hand: in vain
(The shoetrees in the shoes
In vain
The windowshade string upon
the hand bible
In vain—
The glitter of the greenglass
ashtray
In vain
The bear in the woods
In vain
The Life of Buddha
In vain)
poem by Jack Kerouac
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Black Muddy River
When the last rose of summer pricks my finger,
And the hot sun chills me to the bone,
When I cant hear the song for the singer,
And I cant tell my pillow from a stone,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own.
When the last bolt of sunshine hits the mountain,
And the stars start to splatter in the sky,
When the moon hits the southwest horizon,
With the scream of an eagle on the fly,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And listen to the ripples as they moan,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own.
Black muddy river, roll on forever,
I dont care how deep or wide, if youve got another side,
Roll muddy river, roll muddy river, black muddy river, roll.
When it seems like the night will last forever,
And theres nothing left to do but count the years,
When the strings of my heart begin to sever,
And stones fall from my eyes instead of tears,
I will walk alone, by the black muddy river,
And dream me a dream of my own,
I will walk alone, by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own, sing me a song of my own.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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