I sketched a Woman with a pencil stub

I call *Mantradevi for her readable eyes
Like the Indian actress Sharmila Tagore's.
(In her role in Rai's 'Apur Samsar')
And when she smiles really the Tamil dancer/actress
Vyjayanthimala with her dimple!
Her slim body like my wife
(Not now, younger days)
As same as the actress Tabu.
And when this sketchy naked woman's completed
My beloved grumbles hysterically;
'I hate your drawings the same face and the arousing body sequence
That old fiancee dame your cousin actress with a blackhead
on her bursting breast? And I hate! Really hate! '
This is her usual nonchalant song when she's angry
And I am very familiar to that poetry.
Sometimes we sing together
After a nightcap and when she's calmly mutter
Serpent like Life crawls with a shiver
And still we hardly breathe faster!

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The fallen Maple leaf in brown colour

We both are like dumbs
Isn't it?
I see the red ants around you
in a friendly manner
And the handsome poverty
tries to be friend with me.
You have no right to ask
Why the tree bring you down?
And I cannot grumble
Why can't I fly?
My palm and your gloomy face
Give much similarities,
Scattered lines here and there
But the wealth line has disappeared
On my palm a long time ago.
I remember once an old palm reader
Predicted in the broad day light
' This crooked line says that one day
You become a pilot or a road runner! '
The old man is right as I fly on & off

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Rhubarb Mixture

When I sip my bitter & cheaper Beer mug
The nostalgic feeling of taste
Dragged me to my childhood memories.
If I am not mistaken approximately fifty years ago
I had a severe stomach ache and my poor Mom
Took me to a Government's free dispensary
Filling the address of a close by relative.
(Some restrictions for outer area patients.)
The Tamil Lady Doctor Mrs.Sathgurunathan
Who resembled the actress Saroja.Devi
Simultaneously she gave me two tablespoonful of Rhubarb Mixture
For purgative and stomachic bitter,
And the acute pain disappeared at once.
What a pity?
Oh! This Goddess was missing during the ethnic violence in our country.
I dreamed the kind Lady Doctor and my poor deceased Mom
Practise together in a free dispensary of a better World!
I come there soon for my parasitic worms in my knotty bowels
And I hope that soothing elixir still remain in your heavenly premises.

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Missing Cravat

When flurries in the gloomy sky
I am still awake and inquisitive?
Your pinkish-mauve silky scarf
Blown in the wind and safely landed
At my backyard.
But how do I know your whereabouts
To hand over if it's not a keepsake
Are you faraway or close by?
I have no proper sleep these days
Till I get your prompt response
And please do not cremate my innocent hopes
in your vast burial grounds *before the music ends?

*for Sandra Fowler!
[ I listen your precious poems in the CD where Ihab Badrun reads in his deep voice; 'A hymn to Frost' (for my grandfather who started work in the coal mines of West Virginia when he's twelve years old,) I feel a teardropp in my eye? ]

[I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases each time it was a different story.]
Quoted from Edith Wharton's lovely novel 'Ethan Frome'
Ethan Frome a heartfelt humanity that can still resonate across the years to the reader of today.

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Enjoy

Our English teacher tells in the class;
'Enjoy your vacation and bring me an essay
When you come back.'
How do we enjoy teacher?
When people are dieing with Sicknesses,
Storms, Earthquakes, Mudslides, Wars and so many other miseries.
Children play on the grounds where the mines were rooted
And the weapon manufacturEnjoy

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Notes from a frustrated soul's diary

'Jivaeri' (Jiva-eri) .Precious jewel or treasure.
'It's a beautiful, traditional Greek Island folk song of unknown authorship.I grew up listening to this song and it always had a special place in my heart.So I recorded this version with the hope of exposing it to a wider audience around the World.This song is about a Mother lamenting the loss of her child due to emigration.(In Greece many families send their children to foreign lands with the hope of a better life.) In retrospect, the mother regrets having sent her child away and the pain she feels has caused her to now humbly and quietly walk on this Earth.'
-Yanni

I love her short & sweet attitude
The month of February!
As she has only twenty eight days
Unless a leap year.
If other months are like that
What a great comfort?
How sad this perishable garment of body with rickety ribs,
An innocent feather weight wrestler
Who walks three hundred and sixty five days continuously?

* To Yanni for his CD 'Ethnicity'

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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He plays his old Mandolin on a Sunday Fair!

As far back as the 4th century BCE, Greeks such as Aristotle and Euclid wrote on naturally-occurring rudimentary pinhole cameras. For example, light may travel through the slits of wicker baskets or the crossing of tree leaves.[1] (The circular dapples on a forest floor, actually pinhole images of the sun, can be seen to have a bite taken out of them during partial solar eclipses opposite to the position of the moon's actual occultation of the sun because of the inverting effect of pinhole lenses.)

The rich man after he dies
Goes to Paradise!
And the poor man
While he lives on & off
Goes to hell!
And after he dies
Nobody knows
Where he goes?
Your shiny coin
And my rusty till
They're forever friends!
The droplet from pauper's Bar
Wet my dry gullet in the night
And I get a sound sleep
Sometimes with Queen of the Night.
Hey! My young Amateur photographer
Take a picture from your pinhole camera please
And I protect that photo for my obituary notice!

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Auschwitz; A Paradise to Nazi State

I hear the whispers like in a dream
Oh! I was there in their stinking latrine
Worst than Amonia I inhaled
Solid human dung deposited on commodes
And the flushing not worked
As the ridiculous Nazi 'Economia' of water.
While I was a sailor have been to Port of Bremen
And I saw the miracle paintings of Adolf Hitler
This same Man did the Holocaust who believes?
Now I realized the insanity of a painter-criminal
Who hates the humanity and fond of deprivation?
Is this a dream or really I heard a Jewish girl cried;
'They raped my poor Mom, teenage sister and poor father
before they raped me.'
And this was written on my heart;
'They were tormenting and tormenting me. And then they decided to get rid of me. They sent me to prison. And the details of my sentence - do you think I heard anything or I read anything about it? I heard nothing and read nothing. Judges were in rush they had theatre tickets so they were in hurry to leave the court.'

* To all the friends in Worldwide!

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A courtesy with a Black Bear

I met a bear on a city roadside accidentally.
'Don't get frightened that I know Men sing well
And I would like to hear a song from your deep voice.'
The bear told in a friendly manner.
I strum my old Ukulele and started singing;
' It's mighty dark for me to travel*
Oh! The beautiful bears are our friends
That reminds us in the book of History.
Hardly I carry this honeycomb with bees in my childhood old satchel.
I am sorry, it could be melt now as my poor heart is warm like an autumnal breeze.'
Bear showed me a wry smile and I realized that sniffed I am an Alcoholic.
I saw some bruises on my back and that could be the touch of bear's claws,
But it's not painful.
The scenario resembles my precious grandson's lost 'Teddy bear' in this cryptic homeward dream.
(*'Bill Monroe with Jim & Jesse')

[ I am not worthy to loosen the thongs of his sandals.-A humble prayer-]

I dedicate this poem to baby Adam and I am sure that one day you understand this unseen old silly man's dream.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I slept with a Virgin Beggar-Maid

It's a Starry night and I was bit drunk.
I saw the run away Rabbit from the Moon
And it's drowning in the milky way.
The poor queen; her ramshackle castle on the pavement,
She quietly sleeps and I count her ribs.
The broken-plastered Crown shines in the darkness.
Her flimsy nightdress transparent and it's very comfortable,
I rest on the soft pillow of her warm bosom.
Her skinny breast full of compassion and the prominent dark nipples
Like sharp blades tickle my haunted soul.
I touched her soft spoken heart with my wounded index finger
But she was fast asleep after her strenuous beggary.
I heard the ruling King's gossips who was disguised as a lunatic
And trespassed in our premises.
I woke up to a siren of a city Ambulance and realized it's a dream.
My beloved wife groans aside of me and I tried to imagine her smiley face,
But in reality, I would never get an opportunity to see her saintly face again.

To my friends Sandra, Dave, Max, Jerry & Alison, George and rest of all!

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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