nimal dunuhinga Poems

Yet I remember what you said as a secret my poor Mom; 'Your delivery was very painful and it's like a Tug of War.
The placenta almost wrapped around your neck and the awful cry lasted a long.'
Yes Mom! Since then still I am crying, but nobody listens as it's an inner cry.
Thanks, You have taken me to a specialist doctor on several occasions in the past.
...

Horizon is the name where the home for elders is situated near by the Tattoo river, besides you could see the range of singing mountains.
When the passing clouds touch the peak you could hear the melancholy songs.
The old bearded sailor sits on a bench and takes out his miniature compass from his baggy pocket and search the true north, where he suspects the loved ones and kith & kin live there.
The eldest son does a research of Anthropology in a reputed University
...

Fishermen laid the nets and just idled in the sea
And what they brought to the shore in their catamarans?
It's really understood that fish have formed a strong trade union,
And their motive is remain in the sea bed.
...

I hide my striped uniform as a keepsake
And I talk a little as they snatched my voice.
I came to my village and it's almost changed.
Soon after I crossed the singing river with the old ferryman
...

Just give a shout from your hiding place dear friend
and do you remember this comment you made for my poem
'St.Patrick's day' a long time ago,
We met once and I would like to hear that song again
...

What a tragic accident the human history faced?
Forefathers abandon their fruitful cultivation and the new generation too not so eager to hold the bare lands.
A tree grows silently and gives the shade
But they cut the branches and make swords & shields.
...

He ran behind a goddess.
'Yes, you can become immune to my scent.'
She whispered.
He is not sure two or three years later in the campus,
...

'Sorry dear, I came to wipe your tears
Not to suck the nectar.'
Old bee whispered.
'I too must say sorry, Sir.
...

Oh! it's a sad tune as usual
When I touch these colored notes
The burning sensation what a pity?
My poor lungs try to fill happy air,
...