On the forefront, the liberals Were barricading the conservatives Keeping them prisoner, while they Strut their commandment-less lifestyles On the passenger catwalks There were anorexic models, only bone And no flesh, just like their stubborn resistance To tradition and no growth of flesh To insulate the warmth of the heart And just like “Pret-a-porter” They walk naked, after ...
The broke man pockets a lottery, Every time, dawn rises, with an orb of fire, Aurora’s surprise, light’s epiphany, Crossing a crack in a curtain, How the crow is now cawing, On an electricity line. Ominous you could say. While the magpie and the myena, search for seeds Like I am, tiny seeds to renew my lease of life, ...
I think of all the women I know My mother, my aunts and my achchas Who have “ath gunaya”, the way of the palms When every dish is a magical fairytale Perfectly cooked and displayed on a table And it is what comes from Life-lines, stubborn corns, through spurts of Alzheimer’s And nucleases found in sweat droplets The abstract ...
After 26 years of seeing blood Spewing out from arteries They now protest for a few thousand Rupees folding in their palms To spit out the scarlet paint of Areca nuts Made basic with lime And a sedentary armchair next to a wheel Chair has a little artefact on which Betel leaves are kept. Leaves which will never See ...
Boot master, relentless workaholic, Tatoo junkie and yet supreme architect of Moves rapturing towards goal. The precise passes, the hopeful lobs, The attacking runs, how a man who learnt, That one hand is more flexible Than another, learned later on, That the same is true For the feet. How we are All, preferred-limbed soldiers of fortune, Knowing that ...
This is a cry for help more than anything else. I have been diagnosed for 9 years now on this tragic illness, when I have one, perhaps two symptoms, the most. Psychiatrists believe that I’m delusional to believe, that my thoughts and actions are monitored in real time, and broadcasted in some manner to the public. Everyone on the ...
I look at my mother Bringing in item after item to the dinner table. A spread as rich as a King’s banquet. And I look at each one of us About to grab hold of a drumstick Or a fried prawn. And I wonder how she feels; She gives and gives, when giving is fighting On its toes embattled ...
The look in your face, worthy of me And the others, scorn Keeping vigil like a lioness. You who took the stone out of their palms And reminded each one, of the splinters In their eyes. And I searched for you Around the skull mountain And found an empty abandoned tomb They said you had risen And gone away. ...
Dear Readership, Thank you so much for your support these past two years. I now have 1000 blog entries in my blog and I owe a great deal of gratitude to the readership to have spent some time on my blog. I hope to write as many poems as possible and share on this blog. Thank you once again. Best, Dilantha
Searching for the early Parkinson’s twitch Or the Alzheimer’s gap, I gently trudge past The eponyms that could define me When my knee makes creaky noises a habit And my knuckles crunch as I type the keyboard Of an old typewriter And perhaps if I was lucky enough I would have a disease named after me Gunawardana, a lengthy ...
The bell chimed before midnight Lights were afloat in color, flickering In the mistral that brought along a cold front To the church goers, as they slowly Crept through the arches to the waiting choral sounds, And a lofty pine tree stood Like it was brought to life by the wonder Of the deco of little globes and candy ...
A proud soldier of the state inside a bunker A canvas about to be painted In shrapnel wounds, blood strokes, Dappled red, turning white to a paler shade. He was telling a story inside the bunker, How the beautiful Tamil girl with a pottu Was a goddess and all he wanted was things to be different. Love was not ...
The social experiment is nearing 10 years or has surpassed it. I’m still in that Gulag in Siberia – of course I have regained some friends after I tied the knot and my social life has expanded a bit but I know that most people around me are imposters. Wasn’t that the case with the Truman Show? Truman on ...
It’s like the tug-of-war, Between sex object and love fool, In that blurred interface That bloats both, far beyond their capacities, To the witchcraft of tactility. Spellbound, you just walk through love, Not just as a promenade, also as an offering Of your body to hers, To cash in on summer eclipses. Two celestial objects that are known For ...
The understudy that metamorphoses To scribbles of chalk on a black board, the perennial teacher The understorey that nourishes the microbes fertiliziing A canopy of conifers, a preservative of life The underneath, inner beauty, ravishing And endearing, what no man can ever claim The underwear with a fancy name – lingerie That comes off, sometimes in total surrender And ...
As Arabica, Liberica and Robusta They are found. The goats munched their beans in Ethiopia And the herders made a beverage out of it. At the onset of day, when dawn makes an entrance The heart leaps out of bed for the soothing Richness and aroma of blend 43 To make the heart more rhythmic and the gait less ...
A Tribute to My Mom You don’t remember climbing out Of a drainage tube. You don’t even recall every birthday cake She made, staying up all night. You have no idea how she put you to sleep Singing a lullaby that she learnt from her own mother. And yet you remember, every passing second of your life, How she ...
Science says you need go through 9 women To meet the one, the soul mate, the woman Who you see an eternity of wrapping and unwrapping with And far away, little babies inside cots Crying louder than you ever did, for the same breasts You fondled and tasted. There are two Ways to love a woman – with the ...
