Nostalgic thoughts at a Sunset

When Sun goes down
I see a faraway building top
Someone brings the National flag lower.
Like the flag post
Alone, I think of my Motherland.
And it's really morning there now.
Somebody must hoist our National flag
in the President's house while he sleeps?
People rush to struggle with life
As the cost of living goes so high.
And I think of my friendly brother Lalith
Who taught me to read and write
And lot of things of the mysterious life?
My two sisters and their families
Few sincere relatives too haunt.
When we see each other again?
I take my handkerchief out
from my tiny pocket and wipe my wet eyes,
Wave and I mutter to that sailing ship bounds East?
'Please convey my loving regards to them.'

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A tear like ball of lead rolls in my fragile heart

I write this to a friend of mine who madly involved in competitive politics.
This is a paper flower that never betrays you.
Hey! Chum, New year bird gets ready to fly at her roost in the sky
Until the crawling month of January peeps.
My Granny whispers in her old gray tomb;
'I know that she sings the same old song with a different dance
Like a handsome politician in a colored dress.
When a red fox howls at the midnight on a mountain top
I think of you deeply and worry my friend.
My heart laments like the mystic Protagonist in your favorite book of Fyodor Dostoevsky's 'The Brothers Karamazov'
If possible, please change your slippery road brother
And meet one day in a cobbled street corner.
We belong together as bards forever.

*How strange when I read the passages of obituaries here in a foreign land and I feel they are my own familiar people? I wish them a Merry Christmas!

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Let Bygones Be Bygones

My pillow of dreams whispered in the middle of the night.
Do not sleep and write your love story.
The companion must have sniffed something of my whereabouts.
Why I come late to the bed nowadays?
Yes, I cannot hide anything to my contemporary.
This was just a beginning with a lass.
She must be in her teens.
I have totally forgotten of my age
until the very first day when she called me uncle.
I was disgusted.
Truly I felt a contrast and a contravention the theory of love.
Our random visits to lonely parks
and we exchanged books and chats
nothing beyond that.
She gave me a birthday gift
Ken Kessey's new edition ' One flew over the cuckoo's nest'
and I gave her a second hand book of Kafka's 'The Castle'.
I was very cautious with my new name uncle
and the life goes on like a fairy tale without any obstacles.

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Milwaukee native Aunt's Oatmeal porridge!

I remember my brother said once
While he's drunk;
'Hey! Brother hope you taste one day in America
Milwaukee beer that would be quenched
the thirst of life? '
I wrote to him that I had a dream
One of our native aunts who
lives in Milwaukee forced me to come there
and taste her oatmeal porridge
with her unmarried daughter!
It's very strange on my visit
They found my water-pistol in the haversack?
And they shouted.
It's harmless but still they're scared of weapons?
Though it's a dream
I saw their true innocence and the courtesy!
That could be changed a warrior to a lover?

[The Problem without a name: Just what was this problem that has no name? What were the words women used when they tried to express it? Sometimes a woman would say 'I feel empty somehow....incomplete.'Or she would say 'I feel as if I don't exist.'
-Betty Friedan, The Feminine Mystique.

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Uncertain match plays in the ground of Radiation!

The whole World is sick and in the Asylum
Patients were given the Tranquilizers!
And they watch the match with Doctor Confused!
Thank God! The Sea is calm and there won't be any Tsunami?
The head umpire is not certain whether the ball touched the bat
And it's an out?
He's requested the decision from the match Referee.
An Alien comes with a deep cry from a different Planet.
Doctor asked what can I do for you?
'I am a fortune teller' He replied.
'Oh! You came in the right time and is it out? '
'I am not sure.'
'Then who wins the match? '
'That's uncertain.'
'I have a hole in the heart since my childhood and it's very painful
Even the Tetanus scared to approach and finish this sad story.'
Doctor gave him a Morphine injection!
And all is quiet now, match goes on!
I too watch this entertaining game from infinity!

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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And I promise to reserve a seat for my lonesome Master

Still I am going to school and nobody sits in the class.
Peeled walls look so sad like an old fresco
And I think of my old friends.
A piece of chalk and the duster
Still remain in a corner on the rack below the blackboard.
Some letters were missing in the old essays but readable.
Before I step down I hear the echoes of music teacher's melancholy voice
And I never thought a chalk could speak like a parrot.
'Hey! Master I watched your regrets and I want to tell you that some of your friends already stuck in a home for the elders.
Your favorite teacher was retired and she collects her last pension it seems.
But it's glad to see still you look as a student's charisma with your old haversack.
Please come another day after the refurbishment of the school
Then you could see the new students and teachers
And I promise to reserve a seat for my lonesome Master.'

* To Sandra Fowler in gratitude.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The narrow passage; A blue haze of cigar smoke

Here the boisterous dockers
They play cards
Billiard & Snooker
Some concentrate
The slow moves on Chess
Drink beer
Soda & Water
And blow bubble-gums.
The young Lad, An apprentice in the graving dock
Who's seated in front of a Promiscuous beautiful Lady
Half drunk it seems on a stool
Who exhibits accidentally her new pantie
While moving her skinny legs apart.
The boy's intoxicated
By inhaling the unrestricted cigar smoke
And he heard a ship's horn at the Wharf
By the time the cargo vessl cast off!
He daydreamed that he's sleeping in a luxurious cabbin
With the new panty lady
Until his drunkard Bosun Uncle

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I am your maternal Aunt from Ohio!

A letter came without the sender's address.
She's written 'I am your Aunt but I cannot prove it.
Do not think that I am senile,
Still I can trace Judas who made the crown of thorns
For our Good Shepherd!
Do not think that I am mean
The Plumbago mine to whom I give
Before I take oaths in the Heaven.
Purposely I omitted my address on the envelope
Because I know you rascal never step into this lonely Aunt's habitation!
And you scribble the whole life until you go to the Hell!
I am your Aunt Hellen!

For the young couple in the Wedlock Mike & Sue!

*Is this the Canadian Aunt once poor deceased Mom mentioned in my faded dream?
But she must have gone to the heaven already.I have doubts whether she writes her last will the Plumbago mine for me? Now I remember once a palmist in my country predicted, one day I own a sudden wealth in a strange soil.O I can make pencils for poor children free!

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A little long Twilight Song

I parked my humble vehicle beside the Trinity Lutheran Church at Long Beach.
And waited for my singsong beloved's day struggle's over to pick her up home.
Yes, I have a home though it's a rented house.
I poured some water into the Radiator.
Vehicles too thirsty nowadays like human beings.
Pastor Vicente Minerva Negron started evening services of the new hope of Cambodian.
Suddenly my mind traveled to Cambodia and caught the deceased mass killer Polpot's distorted face.
I prayed to the human God Jesus Christ.
Comrade Jesus!
Mr.Judas still roams elsewhere with his patchy blue jeans.
And I carry my heavy cross.
Please let my path be cleared till I take my last breath comfortably.
My poor nickel went down the till and made a big noise.
Some worshipers gazed at me and I was bit embarrassed.
A tear filled in my cataract eye secretly
And the faraway eventide bright planet Hesperus smiled amiably.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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An interview for Hangman

'Yes, your qualifications are more than enough,
But you have skipped purposely the mandatory question.
What is your religion? '
He said; 'Humanism'
'There is no religion called on such 'ism'.
'Yes, it's everywhere but nobody aware.'
'Sorry Mr.So & So and we cannot offer you the job unless you fill one of the religions.'
'Then you write down, favoritism Sir.
And I have a dilemma perhaps you may have an answer in your heavy books.
When a person dies if he requests the life once again? '

* I dedicate this poem to my friend the silent songster Denis Joe.

[You conjure a poignant observation of hypocrisy and prejudice which is present in any ism. I especially enjoyed the line of questioning 'ism 'and the arrival of favoritism which is the prevalent ingredient of predominance. History and religion is written and exercised by the victors. You my perspicuous friend are truly a Sage. Your friend, George]

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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