Please Stir That Celery Flavoured Carrot Soup To Fight With The Life!

I just want to remind you that I was born under a travel star!
Time has come and orders were given from above it seems?
Then I have to go.
Beloved makes carrot soup every other day
And our bony horse is suffering from flu!
I gave him some of my expired antibiotics
And a sip secretly from my nightcap.
I polish the old brass lamp which I brought from a salvage ship.
And I sweep my gypsy caravan that full of rubbish papers.
I read my darling's complicated palm; 'This may be our last journey and your nutty vagabond is really tired.
Please do not worry and we won't give a burden to our daughters,
I'll prepare a letter right now to the Medical faculty in Massachusetts and let them know that we're ready to hand over our bodies one day for research to the responsible parties? '
By the end of November we reach there and our grandson would be very happy!
Beloved prepares the price tags of the goods for the moving sale, O my precious desktop you leave me very soon and how I scribble hereafter?
Daughter in Australia provides the Air tickets
And daughter in Massachusetts gives us the lodging!
We haven't seen her for five years
And worried about the eldest too.
'Life is a journey'; I explained to my beloved and she cried.
I watched her red eyes; 'We finish the journey together' that murmurs?

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Shamisen

She plays the three flavor strings
With the Bachi.(Plectrum)
I asked her name politely.
'Yukiko Suzuki' She said shyly.
She smiled like in a painting of Kitagawa.Utamaro.
I told her that I have been to Japan
And she begged me to sing a Japanese song.
I started and she clapped!
'Haru O aisuru hito wa, kokoro kiyoki hito
Sumire no hana no yo na, Boku no Tomodachi.
Natsu O aisuru hito wa, kokoro tsuyoki hito,
Iwa O kudaku nami no yona, Boku no Chichioya.
Aki O aisuru hito wa, kokoro fukaki hito,
Ai O kataru haine no yona, Boku no Koibito.
Fuyu O aisuru hito wa, Kokoro hiroki hito,
Neyuki O tokasu Daichi no yona, Boku no hanaoya.
[ A person who loves Spring, Is a person of pure heart,
Like the flower of a pansy, that person is my friend
A person who loves Summer, Is a person of strong mind,
Like waves break the rocks, that person is my father

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Penny for a Tick

If the dreams come true how beautiful the ugliest life!

The slippery Zig Zag road ends at the village Manor
And we got down, myself & wife from our tumbledown car!
It's a small drizzle and a Twilight
The Sun offs for the day it seems.
The Baron and the Baroness happy with us
For their advertisement in the Pennysaver
And he says; ' You are the ideal couple we expected
And really satisfied by seeing you! '
Wife makes different names of spicy meals
And cleans the household things.
The two Doberman familiar with me
And I pluck their ticks a penny for each.
Cut their high grass in the lawn
And night I read my poems.
The kind Baron offers me a Cuban cigar and a nightcap
And now I don't steal pennies from my beloved's piggy till.
In the night she wears her old nightgowns
And she looks like the Baroness!

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Stepping towards a new horizon

My beloved! I am so sorry as you traveled here & there with this Gypsy Vagabond since your marriage.
First of all I must thank to Anaheim and say good bye for her hospitality.
The Italian old lady Maria.Bruno (Her husband Joseph died a long ago)
The Manageress of our apartment handed over me an envelope
And a tear dropp in her eye says 'just a keepsake'
Later I found a greeting card inside and three newly printed twenty dollar notes.
May you long live Maria and I think of Nativity.
I see the handsome Sun comes out from the Eastern sky
And I hear his murmur; 'Welcome to Corona'
I see a small red bird probably the robin family
Chirps on a branch of a leafless Maple tree.
That sad song reminds me of my poor deceased Mom's lullaby
She sang in her entire life until the music finished.
Around my billet a range of mountains
And I saw few whitewashed tombs like telephone booths
In a faraway burial grounds.
My beloved disturbed me; 'Darling you are in a deep thought.'
Then I showed her that solitary place with my index finger and said;
'One day we have to finish our journey there leaving our loved ones somewhere.'
She whispered while crying;

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Mother Earth's Lullaby

My son will be a polite king in the near future,
A farthest poor country.
I am sure that you donate all the horses
To a zoo and travel in a public bus.
You leave the palace for home for the elders
And reside in a rented house.
You pawn your crown
And spend the wealth for the needy men.
Soon when other kings propose their daughters
Definitely you say ' I am sorry '.
And you choose an innocent farm lassie as your partner.
She gives you precious children and whatever you want.
And you never think of a harem.
You live the entire life in harmony.
One day you become old like others.
You catch illness as mild influenza
And it may leads to fatal.
Not to worry my son!
I keep you a place in my bosom
And sing this lullaby until you rest in peace.

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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April Moon hides in the unrelated sky

I do not see any difference between Saudi Arabia and the state of California.
It's really warm here now.
I peep into the vessels from the Seaport of Jeddah Tower
How they dropp their anchors in the designated positions with a singsong?
Here I stuck in a Gas station and I watch the pale blue night sky.
It's the same Moon and nothing being changed but I have changed my dear!
I am almost old and sick
And I cannot play the lute like earlier as the loosened strings never gives the heart-stricken melody.
Now I realized the sky and earth are entirely different
Though it's belongs to the same Master.
Along this parallel journey we never come across and let the mysterious fate dance as usual with the poor souls.

nimal dunuhinga
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Please do not search the pedigree of a 'Humane' stray dog!

Stray dog or stray dogs may refer to:

Dogs:

Any sort of feral dog such as free-ranging urban dogs or canines without owners running lose in rural areas or around villages or small communities
Pariah dog, a specific type of feral dog
Any unfettered dog without ownership or a permanent home

If you want to say a Dalmatian
Paint the dark sopts with a felt pen!
If you want a bushy tail
You can paste it
As the previous joint is there if you touch?
But leave as it is!
Do not worry about a soft pillow or a brass kennel
It used to the concrete floor
And if you give it an Oxtail soup
Once in a blue moon
A Vitamin B12 injection,
It'll be tougher than the Devil?

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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End of the Month!

*Bonnie Elizabeth Parker (October 1,1910 - May 23,1934) and Clyde Chestnut Barrow (March 24,1909 - May 23,1934) were well-known outlaws, robbers, and criminals who traveled the Central United States with their gang during the Great Depression. Their gang was known as the 'Barrow Gang' which included Bonnie and Clyde, and at times Buck Barrow, Blanche Barrow, Raymond Hamilton, W.D. Jones, Joe Palmer, Ralph Fults, and Henry Methvin. Their exploits captured the attention of the American public during the 'public enemy era' between 1931 and 1934. Though known today for his dozen-or-so bank robberies, Barrow in fact preferred to rob small stores or rural gas stations. The gang is believed to have killed at least nine police officers and committed several civilian murders. The couple themselves were eventually ambushed and killed in Louisiana by law officers. Their reputation was cemented in American pop folklore by Arthur Penn's 1967 film Bonnie and Clyde

O the poor man's execution days?
Electricity bill, water, cable
and house rent
Citation ticket for parking at Paradise road?
Check Engine light flickers
Right side of the front flat tyre
and in the spare wheel too no air?
Wife grumbles her severe abdominal pains
and I whispered to her ear; 'Are you pregnant? '
She's angry!
I filled my water pistol thinking of the old movie
*'Bonnie & Clyde' and here the grand son comes
Reminds me of my old saying; 'Be a Lion Grandpa
among the dirty wolves.'
It's another painful wake up?

nimal dunuhinga

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Repartee of a Renegade?

Skinny Mom walked towards the gravel road
Where the Pawnshop stands,
Pawned the talisman and her few 22 carat gold jewelry!
She bought for me the valuable second hand books
from the senile professor's house.
Chemistry, Biology, Physics and Trigonometry.
Zoology, Psychology but not Sexology?
O my poor Mom gone with the wind?
The oil lamp's short wick half asleep
Not enough paraffin it seemed?
Moonless nights in the rainy days
Lightening helped me to read well the old books.
But my sad letters soaked with tears for the test papers
Heartless Examiner purposely rejected and I was failed.
Studies were stopped in the drought!
But still I learn in the life-school
The circles, triangles, full stops, commas
Semicolons, question marks & proper nouns.
How beautiful if the World's a Square[In geometry, a square is a regular quadrilateral. This means that it has four equal sides and four equal angles (90-degree angles, or right angles) .]
Then I could have hide in a dark corner and cry!

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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I got a Scholarship to Patrice Lumumba University!

As soon as I received the letter from the Education Authority,
I was informed my poor Mom because that's her innocent dream, And I waited for days, months and years but no reply at all.
In the morning I realized it's another dream of my dreamy fate!
I was so curious of his name and I refered some incidents here
For your kind perusal.

Mysterious events of History
Patrice Émery Lumumba was a Congolese independence leader and the first legally elected Prime Minister of the Republic of the Congo after he helped win its independence from Belgium in June 1960. Only ten weeks later, Lumumba's government was deposed in a coup during the Congo Crisis.He was subsequently imprisoned and murdered in circumstances suggesting the support and complicity of the governments of Belgium.Lumumba's youngest son, Guy-Patrice, born six months after his father's death, was an independent presidential candidate in the 2006 elections, but received less than 1% of the vote.

For this independence of the Congo, even as it is celebrated today with Belgium, a friendly country with whom we deal as equal to equal, no Congolese worthy of the name will ever be able to forget that it was by fighting that it has been won, a day-to-day fight, an ardent and idealistic fight, a fight in which we were spared neither privation nor suffering, and for which we gave our strength and our blood. We are proud of this struggle, of tears, of fire, and of blood, to the depths of our being, for it was a noble and just struggle, and indispensable to put an end to the humiliating slavery which was imposed upon us by force.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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