My father who is in another world

I don’t know about you

but I’ve cried

in secret when I could

and at times tears came too fast

to run or hide;

I don’t know about you

but I think you were stronger

I don’t know about you,

maybe you could swallow your heart

and suck back your eyes

or do whatever it was

so I could never see

not even for a moment

regret or remorse

sorrow for what you’ve done

or could not do or say,

I don’t know about you,

but if we talk temperature

no tears as hot have I known

than those marked ‘child’

for I’m father

much more than child, lover, friend

or citizen;

I don’t know about you

but maybe half a century

is too short a time

to know or see,

I don’t know about you

and your father,

and if you’ve thought this way

and wondered,

but for now

I will err on the side of hope

and worship for all the tears

I’ve never seen you cry

or for the distance

that makes for happy drought.  

Please leave a comment

Color palette incomparable

Primary colors are for mix

abandon and abundance
of metaphorical flush
temperatured too
in the gift of warm and cool
trembling impression
in an open book test
defying assessment
read-as-you-will  liberation
tiny things that speak
of magnificent volumes
epic poetry
in drop form
and leaves of gone times
in going waters.

Inspired by the photography of Sameera Jayasingha 

Please leave a comment

Rukshan Abeywansha*

Life is life

with or without scribe

for men come and go

and women too

but life has come-go ways

and ways of being

some apparent and some blurred

but there are eyes

and there are eyes

some can freeze movement

and unfreeze the solid

to this date we do not know

if it was about lens and zoom

or heart and smile

butRukshan’s pick and choose

drew out salience 

fingertip work

that touched

blessed

healed

made whole

made tender.

Pics by RukshanAbeywansha

Articles of Faith

There are mortals

and the immortal

community

and collective prayer

and those who see word

don’t need face

and those who see face

miss word;

and then there are the rare

those who go beyond

visual and text

or inhabit these

at depth and below

surface and above -

and they can say

but won’t

‘Anal Haq’

in the true recognition

of omnipresence

and ultimate submission

to omnipotence. 

Please leave a comment

Butterfly Texts

Hurricane-maker

of delicate wing

lesson-giver

who does not teach

is silent

but articulating

the verities eternal,

cross-pollinater

just getting by

conductor of life

ignorant of symphony

flitter from page to page

from page to history

history to evolution

revolution to transparency

mesmerizer unparalleled

poet laureate for lifetime

and timelessness.

Please leave a comment

Fellow Creatures

They slide and slither

open wings and fly

push out of barren land

grow and perish

alight on texts

infect and draw

watch and stare

close eyes and look away --

they are not exhibits

or capture-keep

manifestations are they

of human things

and human ways.

Inspired by the photography of Divanka Randula

Please leave a comment

Portrait of Kumar

Unnamed apostles and unnameable gargoyles

the elegant counterpointing

of grotesque and angelic

the twitter of the immovable

the stillness of the fluid

the swirl of moment among the seemingly timeless

the blush of the historicized

and brashness of the nondescript

passed over by chronicler

but who in anonymity and chance

offer everyday frills

so brick and marble can breathe

can speak, laugh and weep

the narratives of sculptor and faith

the Mephistophelean traps

of revelation and deceit

the clarities of the oblique

and the confusion of the smooth

the slanting by sun

the casting of doubt

the irreverence of assured orbits

and the interruption by human error

that other cathedralizing

in the gaze of a sansaric tourist

and as such

whose credentials

amateur or professional or bit of both

are unchecked

for reasons uncheckable.

Inspired by 'Nostalgie04' an exhibition of photographs of life in and our the Notre Dame by Kumar de Silva

Please leave a comment