Saturday, 20 October 2012

Heritage is for meditation

Heritage is nostalgia’s twin 

it is a straw to a drowning nation
some may say,
but no, nation’s never sink,
people do,
they roll in wistful wave
and crash on insecure rock
lose themselves in today’s sand
and cling and cling and cling
to ancestral grandeur
and in their dazzlement
miss in line and curve
crafting and elegance
and in the buddhalambana preethiya
the buddha vacana passes by
or stays and stays and stays

[Inspired by the photography of Hiranya Malwatta]

Thursday, 18 October 2012

Winter's tales

Winter’s tales
are as blue as the heart
as white as love
in its virginal beginning
warm as a book of poetry
as beautiful as a snow flake
poetic like white on black bough
raindeered and sleigh-belled
a desert and an orchard;
it's about the depth of etching
of a name and a time
its replaceability over season,
it's a short story or one act play
two characters in conversation:
I and I-Can't-Get-Over.

Wednesday, 17 October 2012


Far away leaves
are blue in color
like far away hills
not one-blue, no
but gradations of blueness
from contour to contour
from sea to land and sky
for there are blue-tinted days,
evenings mostly
made for soothing
and certain tears
blue-made and indescribable.

Tuesday, 16 October 2012


It was a sun-kiss time 
a last-kiss time
on a rain cloud day
and the sun took care
to touch and touch
each tree, each leaf;
5.27 pm on Sunday
is a time of greater sun
but yesterday
it was goodbye light
that fell
soft as all partings
made of love
warm embrace making hard green
light alighting for the apple shade,
one hue to thebu
two for plantain,
one for the big leaves
and a brush of lightness
for the yet to open hopefuls,
one for guava and another for guava leaf,
the jambu had a spectrum,
the karapincha got a splash
but not the kohomba
and then it was over
but green will never be green again
and I
will never be me. 

Monday, 15 October 2012

Finger Poetry

is a beyond-word
it’s an out-there
like tomorrow,
but a little this side
this today and now
is catchable
in different perfections
where imperfection
of color, line and material
play with finger and brush
thread and weave
to contest all poverties
to mark presence
to mark those
as yet untouched
made of diamond and pearl
petal and insignia
bead and pendent
butterfly wing
and memory
the perfect pageant
and frozen drumbeat
elegant vessels on perfect waters;
infinities are not grasped
but their outlines
are handcraftable
with finite tenderness.  

[Inspired by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe and published in the UNDO Section of 'The Nation']