Faith above politics

In other times
contested terrain
lapped at
by tongues
that won’t hold,
food for rhetorician;
but Kachchativu
on Feast Day
recovers
and notions of divinity
lift
and free the faithful
from tongue and cheek:
blessed they are
for in that silencing
by prayer
land becomes land
and identities merge
and disappear.



[Inspired by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe]

Salutations

Of course there’s fervor
pride in duty
sense of nation
history and moment,
of course there’s order
the rank-file thing
and the saying of ‘do this’
and the doing-that,
of course there’s appreciation
gratitude for freedoms won
boundaries defended,
of course they are ours
and we are theirs
and of course
under flag and
in the unison of song
the requirement of parade
in the custom of celebration
there is defense of indefensible
the weight of carrying out
orders that don’t unfurl
from flag or chorus
and of course
somewhere between lines
there’s the out of line
of independence-residue
leftovers
left un-celebrated,
of course.




Inspired by the poetry of Chandana Wijesinghe   

The worlds up above

Not all mountains from landmass rise

not all canopied trees have root
not all crowds scream in anger
not all embraces are made for parting
not all splashes produce foam
not all unions yield harvests to cheer
not all clouds have silver lining
not all earth is earth-made for the earthy
not all skies ready for rain and rain dance.




[Inspired by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe]

Anthem for used books

In the re-freshing of reading
in passing from hand to hand
in the devouring by gaze
in the scramble of re-telling
writer is broken and re-made
poet reconfigred
into the oblivion of dust
immortalized in word and syntax
lines that will never read the same
and these special-needs homes
the dead are resurrected
by soft-finger flip
and time that stays
in the textual currency
beyond price.

The Republic of Faith

The omnipresent is touched
in the caressing of cross
fingering of beads
waving of flag
kissing of a ring
and offering forehead
for Papal lip.
The omnipresent is touched
when divinity is drawn
from its other habitations
heart and mind,
thought and act
in matter and spirit
the affirmation
of more abiding covenents
in the savior’s word
in the before and after
of all Jerusalems
in the beyond
of all resurrection.

Bloomage

From nothing
to something
to something else
to delight
to teach
to harvest
to decay
to perish
to forget.




[Inspired by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe]

The narrative of gems

From rough to shine

from earth-bowel to adornment

from step to step

there is fingertip and callous

the drawing forth and drawing upon

delicate love

in the refinement of the refined

soft eye tenderness

that imagines facet

and crafts and crafts and crafts;

it's small end of a long story

where perfect narrative

erases all that has come before.

[Inspired by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe]

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Receptacle

And to that other receptacle 

of karmic mendicancy

life tosses alms

wholesome and detracting 

and we receive

or place the downturned hand

in courteous refusal

for some of us are children

and some ancient too

the karmic callousses in sole

and other marks of mind

will testify

of give and take 

and balance sheet

the how-far-we've-come

the how-much-more-to-go

we cannot read 

but must try:

kumatada kusalata kammeli vanne?*

* Is there reason then for procrastination

[Inspired by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe]

msenevira@gmail.com

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When flame and feet are made of dance

In glide and swirl
uniformity and difference
the fire flavor and drum beat
playing off one another
and playing to audience,
the exorcism of evil
the entertainment of the curious
sweep of arm and telling of tale
there is ritual and belief
artistry and con artistry
discipline and anguish
in the narration of their lives
in the reading of ancient script
so old that nothing else comes close
to cutting edge
resident in the tongues of fire,
some in heat and others too subtle
for name-disclosure.

[Inspired by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe]

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Waxed Containment

Container is for eye
the preference of color and shape
moulded for taste
and pick-me-up pulse;
lighting is for delicacy
of touch and ambience
occasion and festival
meditation too;
burning is for mind
the dwarfing of the tall
melting of the congealed
perishing of wick
unwavering flame
in windless room
flickering and snuffing out
in the timber of wind
but made for decay
for illumination
and revelation
of transient ways,
a prayer of malleability
of wax and wane
to acknowledge nothing
and seek it too,
nothing, that is.

[Inspired by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe]

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Other floralities

The earth will bloom
in the union
of water and sun
in the cohabitation
of heart and sinew
for blindness will not color-blind
and that which war removes
life’s remnant will recover;
will fade, yes
will gather dust, yes
wilt as all things wilt
die as all things die
but in interim splendor
survive the bludgeonings
rise above suffering
please for a while
mark for a while
the infinities
of human thanksgiving
in the clasp and yield
of these other battles
sweet in unscented fragrance
less tender to touch
but as soft to eye.
 
[Inspired by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe]

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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]

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Finger Poetry

Infinity

is a beyond-word

it’s an out-there

untouchable,

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

constellations

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;

no,

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']

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