He watch the non-restricted Marathon sitting on the star class hotel roof top!
Some barefooted
Some with their sport cars
Politicians in their Supersonic Jets
And some with knotty walking sticks!
Judgers watch the run from the sky in their Rockets.
Is this a melodramatic dream or a nightmare?
The poor vagabond got some coupons
For the luxury hotel from a Call girl!
And he reads the menu prined in golden letters.
Menu & prices subjects to change without notice.
We accept visa and master cards, no personal checks.
And sales Tax will be added.
Beer & Wine, dine in and take out?
Hot appetizers, soup, seafood, chicken
Pork & beef, fried rice, chow mein, chop suey
Egg food young and vegetables.
He's surprised the mixed vegetables
Cheaper than the other dishes
Named as 'Buddah's feast'
And he ordered that plate thinking of Nirvana!
[...] Read more
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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She sings from her soft heart!
My speechless Dove, I hear your song frequently
That has no words but it's very heavy.
We came together and I have heard this
since my previous births too.
This song of the road gives me the courage to step forward
And make sure that we have to walk hand-in-hand further?
I adore your melancholy song as it never changed
Its tune & rhythm?
Though we faced many obstacles
One day we definitely cross the river
And leave the song at the bank,
Let recite the others who need the ferry to row peacefully!
To my beloved wife who supplies me the ingredients to enrich the life's bitter cake.
[*What's a family? Is it a genetic chain, parents & offspring, people like me? Or it's a social construct, an economic unit, optimal for child rearing and divisions of Labor? Or it's something else entirely: A store of shared memories, say? An ambit of love? A reach across the void? ]- 'Dreams from my father'......Barack Obama
nimal dunuhinga
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A wearisome toothless crippled horse in watercolour
I quit my habitual smoking,
Not that I do not like it or health wise
Because I am not in a position to afford
And I dreamed of my new job in the land of opportunity.
I myself keep on standing nearby a decayed post office as a mail box
And my pale scrappy tongue oust as a moisturizer for stamps and envelopes.
Precious time runs like an unicorn and end of the month the weighty rent creeps like a venomous serpent.
Light, water and gas bills
This and that taps my head like a woodpecker.
What a sad brief sleep and a long non-stop run to earn?
Oh! I am almost tired my dearest
And this 'Work horse' really needs a rest either in a rickety stable.
*I humbly dedicate this poem to all my poet friends and the Attorney-at-law Mr.Surjit.Singh who appears for my political asylum case.
Postscript
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in life, the days are no more!
(Alfred, Lord Tennyson[1089-1892])
-Tears, Idle tears-
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A strange love!
Her kiss was very painful with her wisdom tooth
And I found my denture was broken!
She holds me and never let me go and she wants to lock me in her dog's kennel. And I am certain that she wants to rape me in the darkness?
' I am almost Sixty and you're supposed to be twenty
My beloved is waiting for me and I have a grandson too.'
' That doesn't make any sense where the love's concern
And I am Edeath Satan's youngest daughter.
If you try to ignore me then you'll get bad results my dear! .'
I was shocked and came running jumped over the parapet wall.
My wife grumbles; 'You always skip your sugar tablets
And that's why you want to urinate in the middle of the night.'
I explained her my nightmare.
'You must be very careful darling and stop all the nonsense e-mails & chatting!
Specially the unnecessary evening walks, this could be a good or a bad omen that I am certain? ' She replied.
*for Frank James Ryan Jr./FjR in gratitude!
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The godforsaken atmosphere when Autumn falls
The decaying leaves decamp from the flamboyant trees regrettably
And a virtuous traveler heard an old crow crowed on an isolated lamp post.
'Hey! Brother are you in a dilemma? '
The wanderer is familiar with the bird's dialect and he replies;
'Thank you dear, it's a pleasure to hear that someone call me as brother after a long time. Yes, it's really difficult to survive here without a job and I have already applied for a Gravedigger in a countryside.
But they query about my pedigree not qualifications.'
'Please do not worry chum, you add my details in your resume again as reference and the burial grounds would prefer definitely.' The old crow sighed.
* ['Siriboaiya' is one of the classical Sri Lankan movies directed by Prof.Sunil.Ariyaratne, The protagonist international award winning actor Joe.Abeywickrama who says in a prominent scene after lost his vision
due to a mine-blast.'Now I can see the people rather than earlier.'
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Wedlock
To my beloved!
I lost my pen; sorry I am writing with a pencil.
Do you remember that precious day, December 08,1972?
'We became oneness' you said proudly.
Isn't it?
It's almost thirty-three years.
We have reached the thirty-third milestone, barefooted
Along this life's gravel road.
It's not a grand but a simple wedding.
I remember how I carried my old suitcase
And a soft leather wallet which hasn't contained much notes.
Most of them the invitees were gone already.
But Darling! We are still breathing.
How we faced numerous hardships together?
We can celebrate our wedding anniversary sitting on different places in solitude.
I send a warm kiss to your Oasis from my Habitat, a lonely burning desert.
Perhaps it could be bitter or may be salty.
Please don't forget that we are not two; only oneness!
Who knows how many milestones we have to come across?
Not to be disheartened; let them standstill and we step out on our simplest will.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A painted Woman in A Drizzle
Low limbs of the live oak twist
like overlapping black rivers
across the sky.It is easy
to feel lost in the maze
of their convoluted journey
The World is Green Again
-Marjory Wentworth
Normally I do not go out with an umbrella
And it's a drizzle late in the evening
On my way back home from the library.
She smiled and ready to share the umbrella
The silence said in between us.
O the fingernails sharp and beautiful
And I was scared of her adhesive thick red lips
If I attached how could I go back to my beloved?
If not the umbrella her beauty washes
That's certain and her magenta colour transparent skirt
I saw the whole World of innocence!
'Rain seized and she said; Time has come to say Goodbye
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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.
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The unsmiling man whose eyes seem fixed somewhere in the jungle
The elephants, Lions, Tigers
Monkeys, Donkeys and Reptiles
All were stuck in a continuing ethnic war tarnishes the pearl of the Indian Ocean.
Sri-Lanka means 'Blessed Island' in Sinhala,
And its best it has been an enlightened, Multiethnic Democracy, an India without crushing social problems.
Guerrillas who demand a separate state for Tamils and the Army has launched a major offensive against them.
The ratio of the literacy rate goes high up to 90%
But there won't be a solution unless a new Buddha must re-born in the state of Tamil Nadu in India.
* An open invitation to Mr.Velupillai Prabahkaren (Hidden somewhere in the jungle) for a permanent peaceful solution to this tragedy.
Postscript
European invaders exploited Ceylon as it was known until 1972, for its deep ports, spices and gems; The Portuguese came in the early 16th century, The Dutch in the 17th and The British in the late 18th, then worst came to worst..............................?
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An Essay or A Simple Biography of Yukio Mishima to Please My Brother Lalith!
First of all I must so grateful to my brother
Who introduced me the greatest Japanese Novelist!
Remeber you yelled at me ' Read his The sea of fertility, a cycle of four novels and his tetralogy, 'Spring Snow, Runaway Horses, The temple of dawn and The decay of Angel.'
Sorry brother I have a small volume of second hand books
And I couldn't find those?
I work as a Graveyard shift Cashier for a convenient store
From 1155PM to 700 AM!
And my beloved leaves in the morning for a Montessori
And struggles there with kids!
We're two slow trains of the opposite tracks in the life shuttle?
I do scribbling in my whole life.
I bought his short novel recently from a junk book shop
'The sound of Waves' set in a remote village in Japan
It tells of Shinji, a young fisherman
And Hatsue the beautiful daughter of the wealthiest man in the village.
I promise you to finish this book and I remember you told
'Mishima committed seppuku(ritual suicide)
At the age of 45!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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