A Black Sun Peeps Through The Cotton Wool Sky Poem by nimal dunuhinga
A Black Sun Peeps Through The Cotton Wool Sky
There he comes like a Santa Claus on a Christmas eve along the road of hope.
Lamp posts salute him and the children offer their autographs to sign.
He uses his thousands of pens which holds in one hand.
Homeless they watch the T.V. in their new houses while washing the dirty linen.
The troubled word 'Dilemma' would disappear from the poor man's dictionary if you do justice for them.
Please stop the useless wars and blood sheds but do not stop the harmless wars against the lack of health care, poverty & hunger, injustice, unemployment and etc.
Like a peevish boy who protects his precious toy until his deathbed,
Please love the country, people, flora & fauna etc.
* A humble dedication to a pragmatic great man who could perform his bounden duties without any prejudice.
We sit and read these word and nod our heads in agreement, then we go back to sleep. Our pens are filled with white ink to write the flowery words that huff and puff and the poor starve, the homeless live on railway stations and war fills the pockets of the rich and powerful. If we are to have justice we must fill our pens with the ink of outrage and write to our politians and world leaders and demand justice for all. The UN must become a tiger for peace, a tiger with teeth.
Wise words, Nimal. Yes, fight the wars that will right the wrongs in society, not the wars for power and greed. LInda :)
Nimal, once again you create such outstanding imagery. You show the reader that you maintain control over something that threatens to get lost. It seems to me that you create to show the beauty that exists in language. This is a lovely (and loving) example of that. For me, your work is truly unique. May it always be so.
I hope the black sun prevails through the cotton wool. As always your words are those of a sage.
Again your metaphors are very effective. if only such a Santa Claus could be found, we could all live in Utopia. Fascinating, Nimal. Warm regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 7:43:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
In yoga we practice warrior poses. They are very powerful postures - warriors against illusion, injustice, greed and prejudice rather than warriors of war. Your poem on a similar theme is written in an intensely metaphoric style which leaves me gobsmacked. I'd love to climb into your brain someday, Nimal. What a poetic feast I'd find there. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥