When my Geography teacher draws French Alps on the Blackboard?
She could draw maps nicely
and once she said; 'Here the French Alps.'
I was not interesred of the mountains those days?
And mesmerized of of her magical smile!
O that dimples on her both cheeks
When she smiles.
Once a week my usual routine
out of the class without a cause
Probably my mysterious looks at her?
When I was in the port of Marseille in France
A French lady walked along the pier
towards the yacht harbour.
I just came down on the ship's gangway
with a cigarette in my mouth.
And she smiled with me
her dimples on the cheeks
dragged me to my Geography class.
I verified of French Alps
with a stevedore near by
'O it's far away'
he said annoyingly!
I had a sad nostalgic feeling
that how far I was from my motherland?
It haunts me everywhere
in the same manner being an alien
to this unknown World?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
It's like a poem
I met her in a gloomy evening.
The sky was cloudy and it seemed to be rain very soon.
Just smiled and only a hello!
It's a fiery in my heart when she was disappearing
And I remember the dimples on her cheeks when she smiled.
Autumn ended and winter peeped.
Still that fiery complicates my attitudes
And I thought that I will never see her again.
But unexpectedly I found her in the public library.
This time no smile or hello and no dimples too.
She has already changed and left without a glance.
It's almost five years were gone, still a bachelor
I was sitting on a park bench and reading a poem.
I was surprised by seeing them there were two girls and they are twins.
One of them turned and said hello and I saw her dimples again.
They were disappeared as earlier.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The worthless stuff
I work here in a Gas station
As a Sales Associate.
But collect the trash bags
from the bins too
A part of my job?
When I remove the heavy bags
The kind customers dump?
My innocent thoughts flew without wings
to my bygone golden school days!
I love that old man we call him 'Charlie uncle'
Who collects garbage and look after the ground.
O that attractive Teacher for Literature
who wears Indian Cashmere saris at all
and she got dimples on her both cheeks
when she smiles!
One day she questioned me; 'Nimal you want to be a writer
Lawyer or a Doctor? '
'Yes Teacher, I would like to be a writer
If not a Scavenger? ' I replied happily.
To that uncle charlie & the Literature teacher!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My Funny Sunny Holiday!
At first, my trip to sunny France
Was simply for some wild romance,
Away from folks at home I'd miss
While some French girl I'd soon kiss-kiss!
So off I flew upon the plane
Till almost reaching Sunny Spain,
But landing still on France's soil,
With temperatures still set to boil!
At dead of night, we all arrived,
Just thanking God, we'd all survived
And from the journey in the coach
Our half-built hotel to approach!
Our rooms sufficed to suit our needs
And I slept well from all these deeds...
When I awoke, the beach called me!
So off I went to sun and sea...
French girls' bikinis here and there
Had made my English eyes to stare!
So many Baywatch fantasies
While I rubbed oil on my knees...
No tan had I on that first day,
That's why nobody came my way!
But that all changed within that week,
My skin all tanned on my physique...
French girls surrounded me in time,
Amazed that I looked so sublime!
I lied about my age and smiled,
Just mesmerised and quite beguiled!
To think, French ladies I'd entrance!
They made my holiday in France!
And yet no matter where I roam,
It's always nice when I get home!
poem by Denis Martindale
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If French Fries Were Fat Free
Will I need a miss of my life
Each time I went left, I should've gone right
And love's no exception to this rule
Cause I turned around I lost you
Now I'm feeling lonesome and blue
Just the way I expect to
But there's something that I could use
To help me deal with this abuse
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
What a wonderful world this would be
If the whiskey really helped me
Forget your memory
I'd wear a smile endlessly
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
You know the more I think about you
The more sense it makes
Cause grease and love both cause heartache
So I raise my glass and toast
These things I want the most
Though I probably never see
I can't help but believing
That if French fries were fat free
And you still love me
What a wonderful world this would be
If the whiskey really helped me
Forget your memory
I'd wear a smile endlessly
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
Oh if French fries were fat free
And you still love me
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Infinitive of Rire
After conjugating verbs in French class
seeking the infinitive of rire, nous riions,
but we did not laugh because we watched
a French film noire
A romantic series of pictures ending with a
lover telling his girlfriend never come back,
ne reviens pas - that is why I love you so
much, you are always loving
I feel safe with you, my youth was without
certainty and you arrived like a ship in a
storm, today I trust more people than ever
before and you taught me this
Thank you for the discipline you brought into
my bohemian existence so that I always feel
safe in an ever-changing world
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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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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Battle of the Herrings
A fishing action
North of France
1429 took place
Cause of battle
French vs. English
Anticipation/baited breath
River – flat plain
Set up strategy
Hook/line/sinker
British attacked first
French were slow
English bombarded fish
French did not
want to get
their shoes wet
Were most certain
outflanked by British
French counter attacked
Used Brie instead
of slippery worms
Won the fishing
competition – yelled Viva’
la fishermen French
“What was that”?
asked the English
“What’s the matter
with you cockneys
Hard of Herring? ”
'2008'
poem by Robert Sheridan
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Vive La France!
With echoing effect colourful bon-fires were burning
To celebrate National Day of France in Pondicherry
That kept the crowd in the beach spell bound for long!
The erstwhile colony of France is this French town
Full of European architectural beauty and green park
People like to enjoy by cosmopolitan culture forever!
Most civilised country in the world France preached
Democracy by the famous slogans of Rousseau like
Liberty, Equality and Fraternity India cherishes most!
Bon ami of French culture and international brotherhood
Of India keep both the countries natural friends forever
Flourishing humanism as an example to all world nations!
Vive la France French nationals along with Indians say
To strength the bond between two bon ami forever and ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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France can never accept that it is no longer a dominating power in the world of culture. This is true both of the French right and the French left. They keep thinking that Americans are primitive cowboys or farmers who do not understand anything.
quote by Adam Michnik
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Best Smile
It was a portrait
Of six feet height
Full size Lady Grace,
Minus lips on her face.
With all his skill
The artist failed still,
To give her a smile,
Free from any style.
He scanned every mile,
For that unseen smile,
One lovely to admire,
Forever, the world over.
Smiles, smiles every where,
But not a smile there,
New, true and plain,
His lady should own.
His wife smiled.
His girl smiled.
His servant smiled.
His boss smiled.
The milkmaid smiled.
The cartman smiled.
The beggar smiled.
The neighbour smiled.
The dandy smiled.
The waiter smiled.
The grocer smiled.
The councilor smiled.
He saw an ambitious smile,
Not an aesthetic smile,
And a cunning smile,
Not a winning smile.
He saw a dubious smile,
Not a divine smile,
And a greedy smile,
Not a graceful smile.
He saw a mischievous smile,
Not a magnanimous smile,
And a voluptuous smile,
Not a virtuous smile.
Smiles, with strings, he found,
Wherever he went round,
But not the best one,
The Lady Grace won.
The smile, the best,
He found at last,
From his own child,
Rocking in the cradle.
Now the Lady Grace smiled.
Thanks to the child.
The portrait was acclaimed,
The best of its kind.
(Longest word in English is 'Smiles'
Because there is a mile between 'S' and 'S')
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
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The Air Fizzles
Oh joy, rejoice, oh sing my soul, tomorrow
a French class with Marali in charge, her
personality bright, she shines like a star
her enthusiasm for life infectious, she is
the essence of inspiration and conveys a
sense of wonder about the language she
teaches, the air fizzles while she is around
her excitement knows no bounds - firing
my imagination and leaving enough space
in which I can wonder and enjoy- I might
be slow in class, talking with difficulty
Drilling in basic grammar and analysing
language structure, I hope we shall follow
the rhythm of the language as it rises and
falls, the melody therein, every sentence
ending on a rising curve, indicative of the
questioning French soul, the deep mistrust
of benevolence infecting the typical French
mood setting the tone for their complaints
Oh joyous life, I am so glad that something
good is coming my way!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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I grew up in France, my first language was French, and I tend to gravitate towards French cooking.
quote by Robert Stack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have tried to lift France out of the mud. But she will return to her errors and vomitings. I cannot prevent the French from being French.
quote by Charles de Gaulle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am a guest of the French language. My poems in French are born of my interaction with the French language, which is not the same as that of a French poet.
quote by Tahar Ben Jelloun
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two cows deconstruct Derrida
These two cows were ruminating
and one says, I was listening
to the milkmaid’s transistor
and this French philosopher
was explaining that there’s
no English translation of the French word
‘betise’ except ‘stupidity’ but
‘stupidity’ only refers to man
where the French ‘betise’ means
to behave like an animal…
and the other cow says
well what’s wrong with that
and the first cow says
well his point is, English cows
can’t be stupid; only man
can be stupid..
and the other cow says
well that’s a relief then
so does that mean that French cows
can be stupid
and the first cow says
no because they don’t have a word for it
in French
so the other cow says
so then is it better to be
an English cow
that can’t be stupid
or a French cow
that can’t be called stupid
and the first cow says
who cares, I’ve always said
the French ruminate too much
and then talk bullshit…
and the other cow says
I’m glad I’m a Jersey
what about that French milkmaid
I call sexyhands but
the farmer sometimes calls
a silly cow I wonder what
Derrida would say about that
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Our Lives Are Swiss
Our lives are Swiss --
So still -- so Cool --
Till some odd afternoon
The Alps neglect their Curtains
And we look farther on!
Italy stands the other side!
While like a guard between --
The solemn Alps --
The siren Alps
Forever intervene!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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French Kissing Life
And any minute she's gonna blow
I need a shave and I need some rest
I know some people are worried about me
But I'm french kissing life square in the mouth
Sailing out on the sea
Went through customs and immigration
Still this feels like home
I'm floating 'round through Gorda Sound
With a cooler and a bong
Maybe I could've been a pirate
Maybe in my next life that's what I'll be
French kissing life square in the mouth
Sailing out on the sea
Tonight I don't need to feel famous
Out here all I feel is free
French kissing life square in the mouth
Sailing out on the sea
Maybe I could've been a pirate
Maybe in my next life that's what I'll be
French kissing life square in the mouth
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet VIII
I will sit down awhile in dalliance
With my dead life, and dream that it is young.
My earliest memories have their home in France,
The chestnut woods of Bearn and streams among,
Where first I learned to stammer the French tongue.
Fair ancient France. No railroad insolence
Had mixed her peoples then, and still men clung
Each to his ways, and viewed the world askance.
We, too, as exiles from our northern shore,
Surveyed things sparsely; and my own child's scorn
Remained, how long, a rebel to all lore
Save its lost English, nor was quite o'erborne
Till, as I swore I'd speak no French frog's word,
I swore in French, and so laid down my sword.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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My way of remaining French was the financing scheme I used for Quest for Fire, with Fox funds, since it started as a 100% American production. The film was not in French and yet was French in style, reflecting my personality.
quote by Jean-Jacques Annaud
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bar Des Boulistes
Far from home, but close to marseille
Is a little cute town, where we decided to stay
Everything was fine, and nothing that we missed
Where we spent all night
At the bar des boulistes
A pluspoint is, if you drive a french car
And laugh about jokes bout the second world war
But if you dont, mr. fernandel will clinch his fist
And knock you out
Out of the bar des boulistes
The bar des boulistes
All our problems so far away
So we drank all night and slept all day
For a beer drinking german its hard to exist
With french wine junkies
At the bar des boulistes
At the bar des boulistes
Bar des boulistes, hey hey
Bar des boulistes
All our problems so far away...
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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