Though I am your isolated brook?
I never dream of my faraway rich relatives
Especially long Rivers and deep Oceans.
How could I betray my minnow friends
and abandon the wild flowers
O that orphan girl with the ragged doll
Beautiful widow who cries along the bank
and the lunatic who writes poetry?
I expect rain all the time to remain here
Though I am your isolated brook?
[Superstition, idolatry, and hypocrisy have ample wages, but truth goes begging.]-Luther
nimal dunuhinga
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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Next door cat!
I would like to write something
about my next door talking-eyes widow's Siamese cat
But the mouse of my computer cries;
'O no Sir! I won't be here anymore
and probably your beloved too? '
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A faint-hearted dinky doll
When she reached the adulthood and she forgets her childhood friend who accompanied her in the nursery road.
She becomes a mother and numberless new toys scatter around her child.
Saga of a sad toy continues and this old doll wants to join with the new dolls but she is very scared.
Her child plays with toy guns, helicopters, warships, armory and etc.
The rustic old doll repents of the new civilization and she cries in an isolated trash box.
*Is the human cruelty immeasurable?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A silent pond
Lotuses, Lilies and some insects cajole with me
And I know they never leave me alone.
But I like to see the flowing rivers, creeks and seas
My unseen faraway relatives.
Oh! I am just a stagnant waters here
And no strange waves or peculiar sounds.
When gossip birds sing their beauty
Certainly I get depressed of my usual isolation.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Capitalist Florist and a Wild flower
'You asked my name isn't it?
My name is Orphan.' The Wild flower muttered.
'It's a strange name.' Handsome florist replied.
'What's your good name Sir? '
'I am Romeo.'
'Romeo, I am not your Juliet
Just a Wild flower and I would like to compete the other flowers.
Still I am proud of being a Virgin
Boisterous Hornets and Bees never touched me.
You know a Plectrum that touches the strings,
Strings never cry of the play
Please pluck me gently
It's really painful and I believe you
That you never betray me
Or offer me to a Betrayer!
*Humbly I dedicate this poem to my poet friend Romeo Della Valle!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I am a pen
A fountain pen made in an unknown country.
But nowadays they leave us alone
And prefer the ballpoint pens?
My Boss with thick glasses
An old fashioned gentleman
Who writes a love letter it seems
After a long time?
He filled my belly with ink
Oh! I felt very cold.
He's seated on his ebony chair
with tears in his eyes
Looking towards the faraway burial grounds,
Then he writes;
'I see your tomb like an unexpected invitation!
Please let me know the party time
I search a humble present for you
And I want it to wrap
with a smile! '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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If I had a Son?
When he comes from school
Definitely he complains;
'Dear Papa! I had a problem
in my geography class,
Teacher indicates this is North
That's South and this side is East
And that side is West.
Then I said that I won't agree.'
Yes my little unborn Son
I too had the same problem in my night school.
They made the Compass, directions
For their own benefits
But nobody could show us where's the Happiness?
Then one night after a nightcap in my dream I heard;
'Why don't you try my place the old man? '
The faraway old isolated burial grounds muttered!
A humble dedication to the poetess Susan Jarvis!
*[Is nothing in life ever straight and clear, the way children see it? ]
-Rosie Thomas
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Scattered Dew Drops On The Sleepy Grass!
Hey! You hear the secret cries of the pale blue sky
In the morning she pretends nothing has happened
in the previous night.
The tear drops certainly disappear in the Sunrise
And my little orphan girl don't get tired with your cane basket,
Leave the dew aside and collect few flowers for the altar!
She cannot speak but her depressed eyes talk?
'Flowers too wither Grandpa! '
Her gloomy eyes murmured like a sinsong
And the gravedigger hugs her thinking of his far away grand daughter!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Twilight at a window
A funeral procession
Only the dead person's Kith & Kin?
No long hearse and they carry the cardboard casket
on their bony shoulders towards the pauper's graveyard!
And he sees through his shattered window
Perhaps the poor man's wife cries behind
And the children not aware of the mysterious death
play on the road?
A radical film maker with his Cinema team
Takes pictures for his documentary film
'Poor man's rich funeral'
And he gives few notes to the widow as a gratitude,
She must have seen for the first time in her life
That tricky big colored notes?
[How could I have come so far
(And always on such dark trails!)
I must have traveled by the light
Shinning from the faces of all those I have loved.]
-Thomas McGrath, American,1916-1990
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A minnow, trench and a widow
I found a guppy struggles to swim in that lack of water ditch
And I borrowed a bucket of water from the near by watering widow.
Then I poured the whole into the ditch.
Oh! The minnow swims happily I watched
And I too felt happy after a long time.
I returned the bucket and said; 'Thank you very much Madam.'
I sniffed and measured her roomy smile
Really it's deeper than the trench.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I couldn't fulfill her strong desire
One dark evening
I met a bare-footed little girl
Who carries a ragged doll
Along a narrow cobbled street.
I found tears in her gloomy eyes
And before I asked she muttered;
'Uncle do you have a picture book for me to see? '
I was shocked and I said;
'I am so sorry my dear Magpie,
I have only my pocket Dictionary.'
'That I read a long time ago
But I couldn't find my parents yet.'
Oh! I recite the saddest poem in her talking eyes
That fades away with warm tears.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Scattered dew & wild grass
'We must convey our sincere regards
as you pour us silvery pearls every night
for a long sleep' Wild grass blessed!
'I am worried how long this could be served
As I heard from the faraway campsite
Giant Lawnmower's annoying scream,
For the coming competitive election
In rivalry they're madly making silky paths
to poor innocent voters? ' Dew responded.
[Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.Thank you for reminding me that others walk uphill just as I do.How often I forget and think that I walk the path of hardship alone.]-Amen
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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The Unknown Pilgrim?
On my way walking home
While the Venus Star burns
in the dark sky,
The youth questioned me;
'Why the two tracks Grandpa? '
Then I replied; 'Probably one for North
And the other stretched to South it seems.'
'Nobody wants to go from West to East
And see their innocent struggle for survival? '
The Mail-Train whistled from a far
And he's disappeared all of a sudden!
I was really excited though it's my inner soul
Or somebody else from another planet?
The ragged Station Master's holding his dim hurricane lamp
and he's very inquisitive of my whereabouts.
The empty train passed slowly like a beautiful widow
Yet I couldn't trace those mysterious Railway tracks?
Yes Chum! We come like water and go as wind
He who erases our strange names systematically?
nimal dunuhinga
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.
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Why are flowers brightly coloured and perfumed?
On a Sunday at dusk
fireflies gather under a flamboyant tree
and I met him with that familiar smile
near the dim light pub!
He introduced himself as 'Charles de Gaulle.'
'I am Nimal.Priyasiri.Dunuhinga from another planet? '
He ordered Scotch on the rocks
for me a Mrtini Rosso Vermouth
with a thin lemon slice.
Both of us lit the French cigarette 'Gitanes'
and I pulled a long puff into my patchy lungs?
We discussed current politics and lot of things.
Why are floweres brightly coloured and perfumed
While the humanity fades and stinks?
'It's Master's choice! '
And he reads my mind it seems?
Time has come you to quit poetry
and start painting.
No restrictions on painting at all
of the brush strokes?
When in poetry you collect kind friends
As same as few worst enemies too?
Don't waist your precious time in vain Comrade
If you come to France I could have arranged you a Working Visa
At least you can paint the Eiffel Tower there in your Life time!
*Humbly I dedicate this scribble to www.FeedTheChildren.org
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Night lingers but taciturn?
When the sky's getting darker
Birds hurry to fly for their roosts
And Sun prepares to sleep
leaving Moon,
To do the graveyard shift
with Stars.
I see the faraway traffic lights
fading along the road.
Night is dull like the gloomy life!
But some nocturnal willy-nilly flowers
bloom for the parade?
*[Happiness held is the seed;
Happiness shared is the flower.]
-Unknown
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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I Dont Write Poetry!
i dont write poetry...
i sweat poetry, i drink poetry,
i breathe poetry, i make love to poetry,
i fight poetry, i eat poetry,
i bleed poetry, i crap poetry...
too often i betray poetry,
sometimes i dropp poetry.
once i tripped over poetry,
got angry and kicked poetry.
i rocked poetry on a sleepless night,
i buried poetry on the hill...
i lived poetry, for i am poetry...
no, i dont write poetry,
but poetry writes me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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It's really hard for me to perform the three consecutive roles in my new drama?
The eccentric playwright describes his melodrama;
'You're the King, Pauper
and the beautiful Queen.
One thing you have to be very certain & careful
Do not mix up the dialogues.
The last act I was that beautiful Queen
in my Rehearsal and all of a sudden
The handsome pauper disappeared.
By mistake I begged and the dialects I pronounced not in the script?
'Please don't betray me as I love you so much! '
for my New York friend Romeo Della Valle!
*'Make-up needn't be seen as a corrective or something to hide behind.I see it as another form of expression and acceptance, even pleasure, of being in one's skin.'-Kay Montano
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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