Saturday, 21 January 2012


And of certain leaves
it can be said
that one side shines
and the other coarse
one pleases eye,
the other too dull to note
one to touch, the other to forget
one for the mirroring of smile
and the other for spider-web ,
and time and wind
whisper and love,
dust-coat and benevolence
these un-identical twins
were born conjoined
at the hip of truth
and thus too will they perish.

*inspired by the photography of Hiranya Malwatta

Friday, 20 January 2012

Sunlit leaves

This was un-sunlit once
and will be too
but now,
this now where chance intersected
with design,
is outlined
with light or fingertip
I do not know:
a singular eye-lining,

*Inspired by the photography of Hiranya Malwatta


Thursday, 19 January 2012

Leaf-edge thoughts

So in birth and decay
and even death
there are lines that life erase
and lines that journey returns
the heart line and the head,
life line and the fortune-scripting,
Chlorophyll days are awaited, lived, lost
and longed for
in the browning of exuberance
and the greening of theft
and text gets merged with subtext
somethings get buried
and some surface
we read and read
and learn and un-learn
in the archival sunlight and funereal night
of our momentary passing. 

[inspired by the photography of Hiranya Malwatta]


Wednesday, 18 January 2012


Wet clay remnant on doormat and heart,
discomfiture and misfit 
in the in and out of traffic
frayed conversations 
drip word and silence 
and a pitter-pattering 
slipping into silence 
leaves no mark.  
And I remember
blue mountain on green
road-curve turning
face into countenance
voice into song
word into poetry
resurrecting life from memory
and agitating pulse 
from regular to irregular,
lifting heart 
and laying it down
in a cuckoo's nest
from which it refuses to escape. 

[from the collection 'Stray kites on string-less days']


Tuesday, 17 January 2012


My lines get shorter
and I run out of word 
as heart expands, 
and collapses:
dust to dust
and no word in between. 

[From the collection 'Stray kites on string-less days']


Monday, 16 January 2012

Galle is literally a festival

We don’t know who imprinted
with foot and fairytale
labour and vocation
belief and self-belief
despair and decorum,
nothing either of mask and masked 
the unmasking and shredding 
and the saladizing of anxiety,
little of what was done 
by whom and in whose name,
but there were and will always be vessel,
bait and biting
a catch and a sale
and literary fragments 
to sweaten a deal
in the cultural hoax
of this annual trip
along a super highway 
of words, blurbs and blabber
bypassing landmarks of being
that have and will survive
voyeur and voyeurism 


Sunday, 15 January 2012

January thoughts

From a memory-ornament and a bird-call
flame, flame-thrower and spectacle,
photo-frame and vacancies
there were voids that were coloured by void
lives filled will lives
in the come-go of nothingness;
I watched it rain, meanwhile,
watched the watching for rain
in the swirl of Dry Zone dust and rural handicap
the immemorial twist of prayer and prey
the whirl of the dervish in temples of gold
the glance of a mendicant
unswept off pavement on wet, clammy mornings
and now, brushed with name, voice and lip
name is unpinned from meaning
unfettered tags spin and float
but you remain
unmoved by unclaritying winds
that whip city and citizen
you are you
of yesterday and tomorrow
and so preciously, of today.