nimal dunuhinga Poems

Hit Title Date Added
471.
A Flimsy Soul Who Plays It Again Monotonously?

He strums his broken stringless lute in a filthy street corner
And still the hidden sentimental tune comes out in the lonely moonlit night,
But if he gets the missing strings back somehow
I am sure that you could hear that full song of life.
...

472.
The One-Eyed Curtain Raiser In The Tragic Theatre Of Life

While the well-to-do audience were watching the scene by scene
This poor fellow holds the knotty string and whenever he hears the bell
He gets ready to raise or put down the velvet curtain.
Only in the tricky interval he gets a brief rest in his life-drama.
...

473.
The Trembling Withered Leaves In An Autumn Eve

The powerless green leaves already decayed
And the strong unsolicited aloof wind takes them away without their consent.
There is no any other option; unless the skeletal trees have to keep quiet against the mysterious unending force of nature.
...

474.
A Sad Melody In A Livestock

This is the story of a cockerel and a pullet.
Her name is Diana; not the princess
And his name is Charles; but not the prince.
Anyway the poor two creatures are true exemplary lovers.
...

475.

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,
...

476.
A Parking Ticket

It's payable and compulsory that I know well
And thank you so much my dear sir for the notice of a fine for illegal parking.
But I never expect that a parasite's tumbledown old crock parked in the paradise road is an offense?
...

477.
The Emptiness

Since my childhood I carry a heavy bundle of burden
And recently I opened it and found nothing.
I checked the life's Encyclopedia and found the right word in bold.
' Emptiness.'
...

478.
The Blurred Mustang In My Foggy Dream

I do remember my art teacher a Belle
And really a Goddess; Her fallen hair reached the buttocks
Talking eyes and the pleasant smile that brings flux to a lonely heart.
Still it's a dilemma why she remained as a spinster?
...

479.
Barmaid And A Drunkard

The rural bar is always full.
Pungent smoke and the vapour of spirits
Intoxicate her before it's closed.
A young drunkard journalist as a habit
...

480.
Her Chuckle Pelts My Soul

It lapses me and I changed my course.
The beginning is very courteous.
We floated in the sky.
Her cooing like a turtle dove and she winks like an angel.
...

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