I slip on a ripe mangopicked by sky creaturesA yellow juice oozesCuts through soft sandGrinds to a fine turmeric powder.This wayA dead mangoyields new life.And that way,we too must get crushed, trampled and slipped over.Only thenwe rejuvenate.
Around this time last year, Udan Fernando, a critic and an analyst of all sorts requested me to translate his first collection of poems. I'm not a pro when it comes to translating poems. I did the best I could. 01. Warmth Knock! Knock! Knock!Wait a bitWho’s this?It’s me Here to check your tempGive me a minute?I’ll get into my ...
When words can't speak, people write. Words just don't fall. They are a product of histories, a lot of thoughts and journeys. For the writer or the lyricist, words are gems. It is like a gemstone miner stirring the river bed to find a gem. To those who have known the struggle, there's nothing more joyful as finding one. ...
I am accident-proneOccasionally break things Drop a water glass Knock a plate on the sink wall-I'm clumsy.I calculate answers properlybut forget to keep the decimal point. Type documents and close them without saving.Spill tea in practiced carelessness.Misspell a word or miss a word when typing.Sometimes Ihurt you-scratch you-scrape you unthinkingly. But in all that there's love.
The delicate things we do,Sit at a distance in restaurantsand pickpocket gazesSometimes you take walks around metalking to people over the phoneBrush fingers accidentallyand in the occasional angeryou throw in a text message we make love
*Everyone takes a break. Some take breaks from their job. Some take breaks from their education. Some take a break from their friends. Some take a break from internet. Some people retire from their career to take a break. Although some breaks are permanent, some are not. Among them are those who take breaks from writing and get back again. P.S- ...
When you look into my eyes, steal gazes it is sweet-It is sweet like the Hershey's chocolateIn soft touch and kiss, it is a hot pink donutWhen you cut heart with words, crush dreams, it is as bitter as home-brewed aleYou pass like the wind, swiftly giving me chills like peppermint going down the throatYour banter, sticky like cheese sauceAnd that's how it is,this love of ours has many flavors.
Once in a whileI'd take my phone outand search for youon google maps.I search for Mattegoda, Kottawa;in this towna premordial heartbeat existsand love is terrific madness.I switch to satellite viewrun through roads, thinking,this must be the routeyou take to drive home.I watch the paddyfields you pass by,the thin roads, petti kades,sal gas junction and every landmark necessary for quick recall.I ...
Source: Internet I only want a few things-One is to sit by a beachand chill with a beer.Two is to fly like an eagle,at topspeed, leave no trace.Three, I want your body to be with mine,feel your spine and nerves more.Four, I want your fingersto run through my hair.Five, your eyes, caressAnd sixthly, tie your heart with minelet all fears burn and die.
These wrappers burn for meThe filter is yours Even after a smokeEvery now and againYou keep sending upSmog in swirlsBarely breathingSeldom forgottenSo hard not to dieYou take me on a tripDown that lane named memoryYou are the heaviestweights I lift
Source: Internet How many hours and minutes does it takefor a heart to sail to another?Is there anything sadder thana heart that waits for a heart that never arrives?Tell me, do you still love me and do you stillwait for me like you used to?How deep is a hole in the heart?Is it as deep as the mouth ofCongo River?Where ...
In the early pre-dawn hours there is nothing I hearbut your voice,whatever I look for is you.Source-Internet. Drawing by Federico Garcia Lorca You dance in my chestoften throb and pinch. You-A wide skyA breathing starI could watch again and againAnd never get enough of.You-A fathomless riveronce drownedit's escape impossible.You-A fine artOf many complex thingsput in a thin sack! You, a ...
