Unknown Painters & Paintings!
Tiny kettle whistles in the kitchenette
and the rusty alarm clock cries
on the bedside table.
She must have woke up early
with a bad dream?
and prepares the morning cup of tea!
I too woke up lazily and wiped the frosty window
with my criss-cross palm?
O the faraway gloomy sky's covered
with heavy winter clouds!
Invisible Master! Have you done
this Masterpiece?
The entire life I tried but in vain
and my painting named 'Depression'
Not finished yet for the Exhibition?
['Nearly everyman who develops an idea, works at it up to the point where it looks impossible and then gets discouraged.That's not the place to become discouraged.']-Thomas Alva Edison
to my poet friend Nightmute in gratitude!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
Nearly every man who develops an idea works it up to the point where it looks impossible, and then he gets discouraged. That's not the place to become discouraged.
quote by Thomas A. Edison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A La Carte
A gloomy evening
I was in the red-light district of Yoshiwara, Japan.
In a restaurant I ordered 'Sashimi & Sake'
raw fish with garlic sauce and rice wine
my favorite dish.
I saw a bonhomie 'Geisha'
she wears a red & maroon kimono
who brings the plate with a sing song.
A very familiar face.
Oh! I couldn't believe.
She is my loving wife.
I was so angry and I asked her' who brought you here? '
'you brought me here' she replied calmly.
I woke up to the set alarm.
The dream complicated my mind the whole morning
and suddenly I called home.
She is very fine.
To my poet friend Joe.Breunig
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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Mimics in a kitchenette
A spoon in the rack
Beside sugar and salt jars.
Spoon mutters;
'I love both of you and you're like twins
But it complicates me without tasting you
How do I jump to the old Master's
Cup of Tea?
Kettle whistles and the Master still asleep.'
Parrot in the cage whispers;
'On holidays Master won't wake up early.'
Then who poured water into the kettle? '
'Don't you know Master brought a sweet *bride last night.'
[*A job agency has supplied a house-maid from a rural village.]
It is sad to grow old but nice to ripen.
-Brigitte Bardot
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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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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Winter Loom weaves a sad cloth?
[Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work.]-The Solitary Reaper by William Wordsworth
In this winter gloomy morning
I see your sad face like in a dream
and the silent whisper of an old poem
I could hear at the threshold.
'Is this a morning or a night
I cannot see you or touch
and hear too friend.
Am I alive or dead? '
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Vanishing table manners of a deprived loner
A poverty-stricken morning and the ragged Sun wipes the infected eyes lazily of his questionnaire palm.
In the gloomy breakfast on the hopeless table lain a rotten scramble egg and few slices of transparent bread.
Then salmonella dance in the peanut butter.
A decanter full of tap water, the broken tumbler;
And a rusty fork & spoon,
A faded napkin and some venomous toothpicks.
He sits on his rickety chair with tearful eyes and looking into the infinity through the seaside shattered window in his shack.
And he dreams of an invulnerable haven.
* Our Father;
Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
-Amen-
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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It's a Midsummer Dreamscape
Buzz of the merry bees
And the song of bamboo trees.
In the ceramic pond carps swim.
Native grasses whisper something
about the mysterious Earth.
Chum! I compose my song on a paper serviette.
This is not my home and I sleep in the kitchen.
I wake up early in the morning to the Master's snoring
When the kettle whistles I make the magical tea for my bachelor architect playboy boss who praises my strange cup of tea otherwise I could have thrown away a long ago to the faraway ditch.
* I dreamed yesterday Van Gogh who gave me a canvas and forced to draw him nude.
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 poor artist who wants to hide
He wants to express his grievances and inner feelings
on a torn canvas piece.
He owns a hairless brush and few stuck paint tubes with him
and he mix them with sweat and tears.
This incomplete abstract painting
(A toothless man cries and a ballistic missile enters to his opened mouth) .
he named as 'Poverty stricken'.
He search for a place to hide on the exhibition day.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Chaperone and Granny flat
The middle-aged woman lives in this apartment with her far relative girl.
She goes to work early in the morning and comes back late in the evening.
The woman left in the house alone the whole day.
She is a spinster in her late forties.
The story begins in this lonely house with two spinsters.
Yet the girl is a teenager.
Once in a blue moon a boy with emerald eyes who comes to see her in blue patchy denims.
“Nowadays he comes very seldom
But very soon the day comes
That he will be here everyday
And one day he takes you away.
Then no more news from you
And I would be the loner again.”
One Sunday morning the girl woke up late as it’s a holiday
And she found those lines written on a serviette which has kept on the kitchenette table.
Nobody knows about her aunt’s whereabouts
And her name was registered in the missing person ledger nearby police.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The sad Castle of our little World
Our new roost a tiny room
And no table and chairs.
I sit on the bed and scribble this
While my beloved tastes a chicken broth from a teaspoon,
And she stuck in the Kingdom of her Kitchenette.
'Darling where is that miniature cheap bottle of Whiskey? .
The previous night I kept somewhere.'
She measured and gave me a small sip from the same teaspoon.
Then I grumbled; 'Oh! It's not enough my painkiller as the World still rotates.'
She kept quiet angrily.
Through the broken window panes I see the faraway floodlights in a Stadium
And I whispered to my beloved; 'I would like to play football again like younger days.'
She smiled like Mona Lisa.
* To our dearest daughter Tharindu.Inoka
We received your graduation photograph and the copies of relevant certificates today.
We are so proud of your achievement, May the winds be always at your back.
Really we missed you darling!
Merits to Kelum! One of our precious Son-in-laws who struggled the entire journey for bringing you up to this standard.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Coffeehouse bar stewardess
She blooms in the morning like a coffee flower.
I like that rare flavor and I peep there frequently.
I sit on a bar stool and wait for her to bring my elixir.
When I sip that with a straw I feel like getting more courage
To fight with the Devil's day.
I have been in one evening but she wasn't there and the following morning too.
I gossiped and verified that she already left the place for better prospects.
Since that gloomy day the coffee tasted me bitter like rusty life
And sometimes I drink without a straw.
I scribble on the table mat with a pencil stub.
Let the tricky life turns into a fairy tale to you!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I am not discouraged, because every wrong attempt discarded is another step forward.
quote by Thomas Edison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The pudding that smells anthropological
My singsong beloved grumbles these days
As she needs to make a pudding for an Exhibition
And she expects a new idea.
Then I said; ' Try this method darling!
Make layers of all the ethnics in the World in their distinguished colors
And the top leave a hard icing with symbolic monuments of the tyranny rulers,
It should be a strong one like iron otherwise the monuments sink in the pudding and get discolored.
If you want you can named it as Dwarfs and Giants.'
* To my friend George Murdock in gratitude as he firmly believes that water is colorless.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sweet-scented lavender shrub!
You have a gentle scent
But my odour of sweat?
You have that soothing colour
of bluish purple,
But I am just tan
As I work under the hot Sun.
I am scared to touch your soft petals
My palm is rough as I grip thorns in life?
Though I am sturdy
Please don't keep me in your arm's length.
Believe my friend!
My heart is a tiny fragrant flower
But none ever touched?
to my brotherly friend Romeo
many happy returns of the day!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I write to you because once I worked in your shipping trade
The earliest publication date for the 'Baa, baa black sheep' rhyme or poem is dated 1744. Music was first published for 'Baa, baa black sheep' was in the early nineteenth century making it into a song for children.
The handsome Dictator who cries in debris and he wants a solace it seems?
Under the British management.
Yes Boss! The Buddha said; ' There is no place to hide from our past sins
Not even in the Sky or on Earth,
Somewhere else.'
For the solace I quote this nursery rhyme in gratitude;
'Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full!
One for the master, one for the dame,
And one for the little boy who lives down the lane.'
*I dedicate this poem to the British Master E.B.Harrison, We worked together on a Libyan Tanker ship 'Um El Faroud' Twenty years ago.I remember the vessel carried crude oil from Benghazi, Tobruk and Tripoli to Italian ports.Oh! The heavy bags of wine we finished together, port of Siracusa & Augusta in Sicily.It's a fading dream and we're just old mile posts now.
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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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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