She cries like a dove on the modern stainless steel bridge!

Pigeons and doves constitute the bird family Columbidae within the order Columbiformes, which include some 300 species of near passerines. In general terms 'dove' and 'pigeon' are used somewhat interchangeably. In ornithological practice, there is a tendency for 'dove' to be used for smaller species and 'pigeon' for larger ones, but this is in no way consistently applied, and historically the common names for these birds involve a great deal of variation between the terms 'dove' and 'pigeon.' This family occurs worldwide, but the greatest variety is in the Indomalaya and Australasia ecozones. Young doves and pigeons are called 'squabs.'

Have you seen my boyfriend?
Painful the kiss of his wisdom tooth
Stingy and uses my perfume,
Curly hair
Green eyes
Dimples on both cheeks
When he smiles
And he holds a guitar all the time.
If not the drawn mascara pencil mustache
He looks like a girl.
Swing walk and everybody likes him.
When I saw him last night at the theater
He wore a black T Shirt
And a Red Trouser.
O somebody must have eloped with him?
Swing walk and everybody likes
And I missed him
My boyfriend!

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Bird Has No Wings In The Storm

I started re-reading Kawabata Yasunari san's 'Izu no Odoriko'
and I dream of your golden country 'Japan'.
I was surprised as I have been there.
Chiba-ken, Matsudo city, sakura-dori, tokiwadaira coffe master
funabashi Japanese language school,
the railway between Kunugiyama & goko.
Sapporo beer, sake with sakasuki
taste of tempura and udong; sushi and sashimi
the restaurants I visited with my life long friend Shozo Suzuki san and his
family.
I walk towards in the memory lane
melancholy tune of windbells in Yoshiwara,
still I breathe the cool breeze there
and I sniff the fragrance of death from isolated graveyards
I would like to drown in Sumida -kawa
like Dazai Ozamu san who killed himself by drowning in the lakeTamagawa at Inokashira park.
I am sure that you will bury me near by Ishikawa Takuboku san's grave.
Though I am a Sri Lankan, I may be belongs to your soil in my early birth.
Oh! God if you are still remain in the sky; please grant me an opportunity to see them at least once
before I die in my cage.

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Goods Train

I was so upset of firing from the job by my ruthless boss
And I missed the last bus.
I walked towards the dark Railway Station
And I heard a train hoots from a far away.
'Oh! What are you doing here in the late midnight? '
A woman stands with triplets and I am sure that she's pregnant too.
Because I noticed her belly has expanded a little.
'Where is your partner the father of these children? ' I questioned.
She didn't say anything and I found the answer from her gloomy talking eyes.
Oh! It's a dilemma and is there any place in this cruel World for them to rest unless my little hut?
But my beloved would grumbles though she loves children.
Definitely she would ask are you going to be the father of this unborn innocent?
My poor wallet not so sound as usual for the two full tickets and three halves.
Never mind and it's a Goods Train so we could hide somewhere like in a Cowboy movie.
When we go home I'll explain her: 'Hey! Darling do you remember, here is our far relative Maria Magdalena who lived in Good Shepherd's Era? '
But it's really a Tug of War and a challenge living with two women under the same roof.

*My Kingdom does not belong to this World.[ Biblical]

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The fading tattered figure of my far away old friend

Dearest friend Nimal,
I too feel the cool breeze of Christmas through the broken windows in an isolated hospital here.The sickness wasn't diagnosed yet; but I am sick once again.I dreamed a Santa Claus that resembles you my dear, but in reality, I understand the distance between us.Please try to respond to this letter soon at least in few lines as my days are numbered it seems.I enclosed here a poem that I am sure you grab as a keepsake.
Thanks & best regards
sincerely,
a friend in tears

Postscript
[ This is a Chinese old poem written by an unknown poet translated into English by Arthur Waley]
A man went to war when he was fifteen years of age.When he returned home he was eighty.On the way he met a man from his village and asked him where his house was and who was at home.He showed him the house a deserted place all covered with trees and bushes.

Rabbits had run in at the dog hole
And pheasants flew down from the beams of the roof.
In the courtyard was growing some wild grain; And by the wells some wild mellows.
Plucked the mellows and made soup.
But there is no one to eat them with.
While tears fell and wetted my clothes.

*A report to my silent friend Dave Tanguay

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My dream-boat drifts on river Danube!

Bulgaria (Listeni /ˌ bʌ lˈ gerijə /; Bulgarian: Б ъ л г а р и я ; officially the Republic of Bulgaria Р е п у б л и к а Б ъ л г а р и я , translit. Republika Bulgaria, [6] [rɛ ˈ publikɐ bɤ ̞ ɫ ˈ ɡ arijɐ ]) , is a country in Southeast Europe. Bulgaria borders five other countries: Romania to the north (mostly along the Danube) , Serbia and the Republic of Macedonia to the west, and Greece and Turkey to the south. The Black Sea defines the extent of the country to the east.

O The ripples sing something
And I analyzed the song
That 's very familiar to my lonely soul
Like Black sea,
A rare bird's nocturne guides me the voyage
And I feel comfortable till I find the invisible shore!

* A humble dedication to the poetess Vessy!
Respond to your great poem ' The Mirror of Joy and Sadness'

None of us can avoid the illness and slow weakening of the body that accompany aging, and still fewer of us can escape death?
[Unlocking the mysteries of birth & death]
-Daisaku Ikeda

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Familiar voices echo from Massachusetts!

*Shani the young poetess from Massachusetts;
I dedicate this poem in gratitude to her courageous family who gave us tremendous help as same as hospitality in our hard times in the USA.
They are in-laws of my daughter.............and our friends too.

'Hello Grandma & Grandpa!
We're already here.(Grandson Siluna, Daughter Thilini & Son-in-law Chinthaka)
Our Grandson called us and he wants to know when we go there and see them?
Yes, that's our endless dream and not yet finished.
Our eldest daughter & Son-in-law, Tharindu & Kelum in Australia
When they join us and sing together?
Oh! What a great comfort?
Then one day the old couple could have rest in peace hand-in-hand quietly
With a big permanent smile for a Toothpaste advertisement!

P.S.
Sonny! America is a big ripen Orange and we're small ants.I have already quitted smoking and I want to check your poor old Grandma's piggy till that how much she has saved for the journey? Really I must have an iron wallet otherwise these tricky coloured notes would fly always.
I must mention the name of poetess from West Virginia/my life-school teacher Sandra Fowler(West Virginian Nightingale) for her devotional prayers and our utmost gratitude!

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Have pity on those who love each other and are separated

Mom you suffered nine months and rest of the life until you died.
I continue and almost fifty eight years now.
On my birthday..........greetings and gifts come along from Australia and Sri Lanka.
My eldest daughter Tharindu and Son-in-law Kelum write,
Wish you a healthy & wealthy life and may your dreams come true!
The youngest daughter Thilini and Son-in-law Chinthaka insists
We could not ask a better friend than you.
Yes of course, my loved ones we are born friends.
It's our fault we broke our own peaceful nest and scattered into different parts.
But the links are much stronger than earlier in the chain.
I drew a World Map in my complicated mind.
I brought Australia to Canada and sent her to Australia
And my tiny precious island Sri Lanka pushed towards Hawaii
And sent Hawaii into the Indian Ocean.
But still it's too far to touch.
Oh! My beloved wife hugs as usual
You are a Sun in my winter Igloo
And a full Moon in the mysterious summer hut.
I kept a piece of cake for my missing son 'Marco'
from my beloved's home made delicious chocolate cake.

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Don; We met after forty years

He is my elder brother Lalith's class mate and his full name is Don.Padma. Bandhu
Don comes from Portuguese ancestry,
Padma denotes Lotus and Bandhu means friend in our mother tongue.
Time of course a Magician, after leaving school we met in the land of opportunity and it's almost forty years
But we have not changed a bit, I have a gray beard and your side whiskers slightly gray.
We are old that's all.
Thank you so much for the the gift the big Johnny Walker Red label bottle and it's really a fountain for me to scribble my anguish,
Leave aside all the subjects we studied together
Algebra, Geometry, Physics and Chemistry
None of them help us today as we are the victims of Life's struggle.
Again we met in the life school my dear and we have a lot to study,
Around us there are vast different characters in the life school
And be alert as you live in the Valley with your loving family
And I am here in Anaheim with my singsong beloved and the loved ones are far away
Let smile like our school days and I still remember your favorite song.
If life is a song
But it's a painful nagging and what else?

* To my loving brother Lalith in gratitude as you taught me a lot much more than the encyclopedia.

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An Inner Cry

The day started with a smile and I thought it will remain forever
but nothing is certain in this life.
I saw in the mirror my hair turns gray, a front tooth loosened
which cannot grip anything.
Hearing too very weak and doctor prescribed me glasses for catract.
Oh! it's really funny now I see things better than earlier.
Everybody has changed and they all are running behind something
but nobody knows their goal.
new currency notes and coins twinkling like stars
and the banks open day & night to secure them.
Those who doesn't have accounts waiting for what?
They too feel hungry and run here and there
even not knowing their blood group.
paper says the petrol price has increased again
and it doesn't make any difference to me
as I walk all the time.
Today the topic is our children, already grown ups, married and settled down in overseas.
we are waiting for what?
at least to see them once before we die,
but they grumble always

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Polka

The polka is a Central European dance and also a genre of dance music familiar throughout Europe and the Americas. It originated in the middle of the 19th century in Bohemia. Polka is still a popular genre of folk music in many European countries and is performed by folk artists in Poland, Latvia, Lithuania, Czech Republic, Netherlands, Croatia, Slovenia, Germany, Hungary, Austria, Switzerland, Italy, Ukraine, Belarus, Russia and Slovakia. Local varieties of this dance are also found in the Nordic countries, United Kingdom, Republic of Ireland, Latin America (especially Mexico) , and in the United States.

Month of February finishes
And March comes
With heavy snow here?
Frozen tears fallen from the sky
As she cannot bear the severe coldness
It seems?
And I think of my loving deceased Mother
Who secured me for nine months in her
Precious polyphony Womb?
How she cried deeply
When she heard that my handsome father
Met an accident in his young age?
Both were in a secluded place now
And practice their favorite *dance
That I am sure.
But I would like to know that
Your place get snow and bombs too sometimes
What we get on this planet Earth

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