‘Charged!’ goes to Page 3.
‘Convicted’
is a Page 12 small-print.
Newsworthiness
is about economics
what sells and what sells less;
it’s a strange consumerism
that pushes blood-price
including its own.
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Saturday, 30 June 2012
Crime Report
‘Raped!’
‘Charged!’ goes to Page 3.
‘Convicted’
is a Page 12 small-print.
Newsworthiness
is about economics
what sells and what sells less;
it’s a strange consumerism
that pushes blood-price
including its own.
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‘Charged!’ goes to Page 3.
‘Convicted’
is a Page 12 small-print.
Newsworthiness
is about economics
what sells and what sells less;
it’s a strange consumerism
that pushes blood-price
including its own.
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Thursday, 28 June 2012
Song of the mushroom girl
There
are mushroom mornings,
and a garden delicately ash-browned
here and there
fine-sand pop-ups;
heen-veli-hathu
take up position
on some lightening-nights
in elemental indetermination;
I don’t know if they descend
from morality or impertinence,
of if they are fed
by the fertilizer of hope,
or if it’s all a play
on mind’s gullibility,
but that’s how you come
in un-witnessed overnight showering
that’s how you come
and go in midday heat,
girl of fine-sand truancy.
and a garden delicately ash-browned
here and there
fine-sand pop-ups;
heen-veli-hathu
take up position
on some lightening-nights
in elemental indetermination;
I don’t know if they descend
from morality or impertinence,
of if they are fed
by the fertilizer of hope,
or if it’s all a play
on mind’s gullibility,
but that’s how you come
in un-witnessed overnight showering
that’s how you come
and go in midday heat,
girl of fine-sand truancy.
Wednesday, 27 June 2012
The C.E.B.
The
Ceylon Electricity Board
[That’s CEB to the nation,
vilified and not without cause
but service-provider who gifts
but does not write in subsidy to bill]
interrupted sentence, wrecked thought
and drew me outside.
in her monthly pregnancy;
and the CEB had sliced her
neatly
four parts,
two squares
and two horns.
things the CEB cannot take
or break,
can cut
but will still come through
night and heartache
gift and theft;
but couldn’t stop its mending.
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[That’s CEB to the nation,
vilified and not without cause
but service-provider who gifts
but does not write in subsidy to bill]
The
CEB
broke
my heart last night;interrupted sentence, wrecked thought
and drew me outside.
It’s
close to Poya
and
the moon is heavier in her monthly pregnancy;
and the CEB had sliced her
neatly
four parts,
two squares
and two horns.
There
are things
bigger
than the CEB,things the CEB cannot take
or break,
can cut
but will still come through
night and heartache
gift and theft;
The
CEB broke my heart
last
nightbut couldn’t stop its mending.
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Monday, 25 June 2012
The scrambling of constellations
Last
night
the stars
long burdened
by holding up sky
broke constellation,
dropped from cloud gap
rolled along moonlight
and danced and danced
and I saw the Greek myths scrambled
ancient narratives re-worded
and re-nonsensed
upon a jam fruit tree
and a veta hira fence
and the resilient iluk.
the stars
long burdened
by holding up sky
broke constellation,
dropped from cloud gap
rolled along moonlight
and danced and danced
and I saw the Greek myths scrambled
ancient narratives re-worded
and re-nonsensed
upon a jam fruit tree
and a veta hira fence
and the resilient iluk.
Sunday, 24 June 2012
It’s all a mainstream melody
It’s
all a mainstream melody
of life and death
a dance of toss and draw
and tail-switch flee.
and the one that got away
will tomorrow be caught.
And tomorrow’s escapee
will perish with trapper
in karmic ordainment
by and by.
unknown to water resident:
livelihood for some.
between now and then
here and there.
a moment-freeze
of a necessary journey.
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of life and death
a dance of toss and draw
and tail-switch flee.
Yesterday’s
free
is
today’s catch,and the one that got away
will tomorrow be caught.
And tomorrow’s escapee
will perish with trapper
in karmic ordainment
by and by.
Palette
gratifying ritual
unknown
to waterunknown to water resident:
livelihood for some.
Life-death
art
is
a midstream dancebetween now and then
here and there.
A
photo-essay
of
our transience,a moment-freeze
of a necessary journey.
[Inspired
by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe]
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