From 'Songs for Balachandran'

 

 

Nobody's Children

 

 

 

LEAVE A COMMENT

From 'Songs for Balachandran'

This was for you, Balachandran

ROUTE

Usually marked
with road sign and pavement
neat white lines and
curves
elegantly chiseled
from hillock and rock,
but there are routes unmarked
unlocatable on map
or memory
stray-ways
of stupor and candor
love and heartbreak,
and i've heard
they are given to wandering
and wonderment
the tiny must-miss things
removed from tourist guide
and oral tradition,
the wide angled landscapes
and tiny blue-breaks
on cloudy days;
they are marked by generality
but not named,
fragrant
nevertheless.

LEAVE A COMMENT

[click on image]
From the book 'A child by any other name' by Malinda Seneviratne and Sandra Mack

LEAVE A COMMENT

This other percussion

Long before drummer’s finger 
grazes, caresses and draws
from hide and rim
ancient rhythms 
born of elemental fury
and everyday love
the thirsts and hungers
laced with contentment,
long before drum roll 
moves foot to dance
body to sway
turns arm, hand and finger
into articles of grace,
there’s practiced artistry
tender play of finger on skin
tightening of sinew
glistening on skin,
wresting of rhythm
from fire and earth
the coaxing of movement
and stilling of passion:
the beginning and end
of percussion.

 

[inspired by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe and published in the FINE Section of 'The Nation', March 17, 2013]

LEAVE A COMMENT

Soil and seed, man and woman

Once there was earth
soil that lay over seed
soil that broke with stem and leaf
soil that made way for root;
once there was a tree
of trunk and branch
now leafed now shedded;
and from earth
and other seed
other root and longing
there came man
there came women;
and as tree crafts them
they craft tree,
at times soft and at times rough,
and in the vessels they are
and the vessels they make
the poundings given and taken
shelter and ingratitude
resurrection of the dead
there is wood and timber
earth and soil
moved and moving
and love
that stays
long after tree
long after man and woman
long after death,
in and out of soil
because of root
and arms that reached
and touched a sky.

[Inspired by the photography of Rukshan Abeywansha, published in the FINE Section of THE NATION, March 10, 2013] 

 

LEAVE A COMMENT