The tough Landlord requests a poem?
It's very hard to find a gentleman like him,
A soft spoken, saintly figured
Who waits a long for the due rents
without nagging?
Like a feeble mother who keeps her child
for nine months in her watery safe womb?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Mother
How can a mother forget her child,
the child who is conceived nine months in the womb
the child that is cradled at daytime,
night time until dawn?
How can a mother forget her child?
How can a mother forget her child
the child who after the flow of months
has learned to stand and run?
How can a mother forget her child,
the child whose mouth imitates her mother`s tongue,
the child who after a year or two can say,
'Mama, I love you'?
How can a mother forget her child,
the child who is so dear in her own heart and mind,
the child that reveals the mystery of creation,
the beauty of growth and human interaction.
the infinity of our own universe
within its finite linear time?
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Pilgrimage
Am I a pilgrim or a wayfarer
in this sanctum or a sanatorium?
Dear mom I was a prisoner for nine months
in your safe waterlogged womb.
But still I cannot swim in the deep seas.
The thorny crown and the cross too heavy for me.
I am only a puppet in the marionette
and somebody draws me here and there.
I am almost tired,
please let it be a freehand
and a freestyle race
without any restrictions.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The brave Motherhood
All the good guys as same as the stale ones
You bring to this unfair world hardly.
In the mysterious watery womb you never train them to make wars or behead the brotherhood?
Your precious heart is a scripture Mom!
The only weakness I see is the unlimited love.
A sculptor may carve a crystalline beautiful woman
But never a skinny mother?
She lives in every heart like a child.
This innocent child one day becomes a saint or a criminal in this unscrupulous society.
(Suicide; O river, I see drifting deep in your flux of silver
Those great Goddesses of peace
stone, stone, ferry me down there.)
Sylvia Plath, Lorlei
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Child in the Womb…
The child in the womb longs
To leave the darkness ’round,
And see the light of the world,
Created by God.
The child in the womb yearns
To breathe the lovely air
Of independent life,
Made by God.
The child in the womb wants
To move about with ease,
On planet earth’s terrain,
Meant for it.
The child in the womb waits
To show its cry of life,
And feel its mother’s warmth,
And parents’ love.
The child in the womb loves
To show its beauteous form,
That love of God gave it,
Free of cost!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-15-2008
poem by John Celes
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Our Seasonal crops!
If all these wicked rusty Guns
turn out into tiny tractors
a soft soul could operate?
This *Earth would be a peaceful Farm Yard
instead of bloodshed?
You could provide our seasonal crops proudly
to the Heaven, Hell or Mars?
to my fellow poet friend robyn selters!
*The Buddha describes Earth as follows; Hard, Rough, Heavy, Soft, Melt and Smooth!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Caution! Frequent stops
Please do not approach me and keep a safe distance my dear.
Do not rely on my broken wheels.
This nagging engine is too old for the slippery road.
Please overtake me and I have no any regrets.
My horn is weak as same as the brakes
And I wish you a happy and a safe journey!
[ Lord Jesus also suggested, ' When it seems to you that your suffering exceeds your strength, contemplate my wounds.' (Diary 1184,1152)
* A merry X'mas and seasonal greetings to all my poet friends!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Boardinghouse Mistress's maudlin song!
I was so jealous
When she smiled
with the young medical student
who rents my next room.
And by mistake
I tasted his morning coffee cup
O it's very sweeter than my
bitter usual coffee mug.
Day by day
I check my progress
in the mirror
But it's unavoidable
The old ageing?
humbly to the poetess Sarafielder!
[Bristling over the way
my moustache droops,
So like the man's
I now hate! ]-'Romaji diary', by Ishikawa Takuboku
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Mocking freedom in cagey avenues?
[Time is a dressmaker specializing in alterations.]-Faith Baldwin
Fallen leaves of Autumn
Covered the old nursery road
and I pick them one by one
into my pushcart!
Nursery was closed for vacation
A squirrel rested on a bench
and the swings were chained?
It's really hard for me to climb
The Post-office hill
with this nagging sciatica pain?
But I have to send this letter
to my faraway unseen friend.
Rusty coins not sufficient
for the postage it seemed
and do they accept my letter
without a stamp?
Anyway I remember the few lines
of my new poem in the letter
and I murmured to myself
on my way back;
'I saw my bald head
in the shattered mirror
and I threw the toothless comb
into the nearby muddy river.'
To my deceased loving Mother!
(Still through your far seeing eyes I see the puzzling life Mom.)
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Cage-free chickens fly in a twilight sky!
I saw in a twilight sky like small jets
They fly for a better place full of vegetarians!
Leaving the chauvinistic-Machismo human beings,
Eagerly opened their watery mouths to chew
The jalapeno chicken sausage fully cooked
Lower in fat and calories!
How long the innocents could fly for an Utopia
That grazing on wide-open pastures?
[Father, so often I have said one thing with my lips and held another thought in my heart.Please help me live consistently with your love.]-Amen
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sir!
You passed me remarks on & off
that I am an ignorant!
Yes Sir!
I know only that Sun rises in the East
and sets in the West,
One plus one is two not eleven like our boss says
and the precious letter
in the English alphabet starts with 'A'
and finishes at 'Z'.
But you are not familiar with this statement Sir!
Most of the huts in this ridiculous World
Their stoves unlit for days, months and years?
All the religions I seaerched but couldn't find the right word
and ultimately it's in the encyclopedia in simple letters
'poverty'.
to my friend Pranab!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Nothing is more important than your health
To relieve my Arthritis joint pain
I started a rental boating in a river.
And the beautiful fish
around the boat,
They talk, sing & dance
As they're certain that I no carry baits?
They forced me to stay in the river
And confirmed that they could cure my nagging pain!
At last they said; 'Nothing is more important than your health.'
*[Still I remember the Yellow-tail Snapper's meaningful song;
'There are two types of pains,
One is physical and the other is mental?
Swimming is the best for the first
and meditation is ideal for the rest.']
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Eclipse in Womb
Soon I die, my soul search anxiously
a place to hide.
I saw my deceased mother who was Re-born
in the city of Western Virginia, the united states of America.
She has already married to a Philanthropist!
Mom is very beautiful like an actress.
But no children.
I talked to her 'Mom! it's me, can't you recognize; Oh! I am sorry
Your mother tongue is entirely different'.
Anyway she became pregnant quickly.
Father is very happy and brings everything; whatever she wants
but for me the embryo is a perfect hell.
I am in a dark pond of the Womb
and instead of flowers I see the intestine.
When she drinks tea I feel hot
and she takes cold; Oh! it's like in north pole.
I have to suffer for nine months in this sachet.
It's a very long period.
Mom! I sniff your tasty breast milk
and I hope you deliver me to this sacred World safely.
Do you remember my name Mom!
and I am sure you give the same to this naughty boy?
To the young poetess Starr.Williams
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A pleasant mood of a ragged Angel!
A street child smiled
As a Lottery Winner!
And I inquired.
She has found a pencil stub
and an eraser
in a trash bin?
*[There's no experience better for the heart than reaching down and lifting people up.]-John Andrew Holmer
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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Braille!
When he sings from afar
I know that he's singing for me
But I do not see him
Though he sings besides me?
And this strange lover
always ask my Religion, not my name
And I say 'Braille! '
for Irene Ryder-'Nobody's child'
'I'd walk the streets of Heaven where all the blind can see? '
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Human Resources Bank & the Life's gamble?
The smoldering Man,
He felt its smoothness
When he touched
The new big currency note!
And the sadness
When it's changed into
dirty small notes?
O the annoying!
Harsh bitterness
while swallowing
the rough coins
at hard times?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Ivory Tower
A Goddess rests with her harp.
The distance music and I hear her strumming.
Yet I am for a long way and stagnant.
I feel the time is walking and somebody is waving.
Days, Months and Years passed.
Hero is old, broken heart and hard of hearing.
But still she is strumming and never gets old.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Hideaway
i dream back of the past, where the womb i stay, is nothing
but a place where i can be in a day.......
moving out is not but a dream that everybody is busy, looking
something that everybody couldn't see......
my thought is humble to think that, in the shelves i use to play is
but a womb's mother i usually think that it is easy to be free....
i always ask even if it takes lust, all the memory is gone, only
the bad things is fun....
all it seems, it is fine and everything is with me, knowing i made
it for that day, wandering for every joy would leads me to make
me happy.....
i have stand on my own, i know where i go, believing that i am a
little god, great as it could be, never i hold to the womb iam
fold.....
innocent as a child, all day long i wait to the mother breast i suck,
to the milk iam glad, leaving behind the pain i my hands
let the hideaway may come in my dreams i stand, may you always be
in my mother womb i stay..... for only in my mother's womb.... i
could be free
poem by Antonio Liao
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Re-Birth
You could see him from a distance
at the bus halt he stood motionless.
staring to the infinity.
he waited for the bus for hours and hours
days and months.
he wanted to see his mother
who is going to die very soon.
He saw a lorry came to the halt
full of laborers with instruments
and the overseer explained him that
they are going to put up a Railway line.
He waited for the train
for hours, days and months
at last the train arrived and his sick mother got down.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Lost Dog; Reward!
Missing Dog belongs to dalmatian pedigree
Red ribbon round the neck with a bell
And the new leather belt of goat skin,
Old Owner cries the whole day without a meal.
Please contact; Nagging Soul
3456, West Sumac Lane, Apt 008
Anaheim, CA 92804
I told my wife 'It's near to our place.'
And when I try to fix my photograph on that notice
She scolded me in our mother tongue.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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