I Like To Be

A black puppy on the road to heaven
but scared of rabies.
A Well-to-do lady will take me
on her way bounds home.
If I am a pebble at a riverside
or a pearl in a deep sea.
Remove my heavy garments
and be naked at a peak of a mountain
before I jump.
A new born child as a God son
in a quiet isolated nunnery.
An unburned candle in a poorest hut.
A pencil sketch drawing of a blind shepherd
and a sorrowful song of a dumb lass.
A soot on a chimney of an exploitation human factory.
I want to go back to my village old thatch school
and learn with my kind teachers again
the meaning of life.
Sleep besides my poor mom
and I promise her this time
to be a man and help each other.
A safety pin of a hand grenade
and explode in the pockets of war mongers.
(If all the war victimized widows requested only.)

by nimal dunuhinga

Comments (4)

I did not go to a thatch school, but I went to a school with nuns, who tried to teach me the meaning of life. I'm still trying to find a true meaning after all these years.
A fascinating collage of images running the full gamut from gentleness to violence. Imagination could do no more. A fine poem, Nimal. Kindest regards, Sandra
Alot of wisdom in this one Nimal.
a lot of very lovely images, Nimal. (I'm right in front of you in the Poetry queue today. Finally wrote another short poem.) Very lovely ones. The violent ones at the end, after the so-endearing ones of your village and mom, are very jarring. I'm not telling you to change it, though.