Who am I?

I am not who my parents made me,
i'm a cow seeking greener pastures.

I am not who my country made me,
I'm a Patriot, only to the nation
within and around me.

I am not who my childhood made me,
i'm a queen, ruling her kingdom
with the firm hand of faith.

I am not even who my genes have made me,
i'm, an athlete running against the tide of nature,
fighting to keep the flab away.

I am not who my children have made me,
i'm a dream, waiting to come true.
A vision of unspoken hope,
working to find a peace thats not imprisoned.

Beggers on Forte Street

That she is blind there is no doubt.

With her disfigured eyes wide open, she sits chanting to attract passersby, rocking back and forth, her hand holding the open jar for change. Sparse betel leaf stained teeth jute out with the eerie song she sings.

On the other side of the narrow lane, another stands, quiet, almost calm, only a slight bend from the waist first draw attention, then I see it, the mangled legs that barely let her stand. She leans against the wall, her fair skin taunting her dismal fate.

After the initial shock of seeing such inhuman suffering, the next moment in time trickles by and I rush past them towards my life, back to my own reality.

My sound of music

Colorful saris and white sandy beaches
Red rice, fresh tuna and variety of veggies
Blue ocean view, montessori for kids
these are a few of my favorite things.

Majestic city, MD Gunasena
Vijitiyapa and secondhand bookshops,
Arpico super and Dominoes pizza,
these are a
few of my favorite things.

When the heat stings,
when the sweat pours,
when am feeling Sad.
I simply remember my favorite things
and then i dont feel
so baaad!




Thambili, Nolimit, and Oprah brand products.
Temples, the Sangha and carved sitting Buddhas,
Bus 154 that goes by the British Council,
these are a few of my favorite things.

Trishaws that charge less, and bicyling post men,
Deep green clean forest, and unpolluted cold air.
Elephant claves and brown beagle puppies.
These are a few of my favorite things.

When the street stinks,
with the trash there,
when am feeling bad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
and then i dont feel,
so Baaaad!

Barefoot Goddess

Come lay your fresh fruits by her blistered feet,
Bring in the best of your harvest to her tattered stall,
Then build for her a temple, a home for her tired limbs.
Change her worn clothes to soft silk and warm wool.
Then make a feathered bed to lull her to dream worlds...

Here comes the barefoot goddess, wrinkled and baked.
Soon it would be too late, and all that is left will be the
Curse of her fate, an echo of all our lives.

Andromeda

Convoluted dreams rear

their ugly heads from beneath the raging sea.

Chained to chores and chance, by the folly of a mothers sin.

Who will rescue the Nubian Princess

when Perseus has come and gone?

The sacrifice has to be made.

The stars have ordained it.

She will only be free,

when the seasons comes

to reap what she has sown.

Clueless in Colombo

Lost in an island, like Babel
I go my way, oblivious to what passersby say.
The radio booms and I sing aloud (in my head) the tunes I know,
Otherwise the sing song sounds of Sinhala VJs permeate.

My complexion blends in,
but my nappy hair hidden in hats,
Shrouds the geographic location of my birth.


Shrinks, shrimps and cheap shirts abound,
I glide… jaded… through the
narrow streets, on wheels big and small.
Holding the luggage that would not stop saying
“Mama cayee me”,
Clutching the skinny wrist of the other
That keeps saying “Boring”!


It’s too soon to say, that I will plant my tree here,
But it’s way too late to say,
That my heart has not been uprooted from there.

And as if I dream to plant my tree,
I plan to buy my perch of garden space
“Practicalities first” right!
Finally! A motivation for joining the rat race.

It’s terrifying… the uncertainty,
Yet liberating… the possibilities.


The grime of a polluted city is
soothed by an occasional sea breeze
and sitting Buddhas, and expressionless faces.

Yet, with all these,
I despair in my past follies,
Haunted by the fading figments of foolish fantasies.
I shudder at the price I am willing to pay
For an imitation totem,
An overpriced souvenir from my short journey.

I have paid the ultimate price,
Such willing sacrifice, such serious stupidity,
At once sweet, yet sour in its unreciprocated depth.


I have been standing on this cliff for so long…
At last, I’ve jumped!

Judges

Can you judge a tear drop
or the song of a bird in the early morn?
Can you say this is too salty,
or the other too serenading?

Tell me now, cos I need to know,
The criteria for judging the
melody of my heart,
And the words from my head.

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore-
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or Crust and sugar over- like syrupy sweet?
Maybe it sags like a heavy load
Or does it explode?

Langston Hughes I951

My life Now

I’m drowning…..
Sippy cups, teething rings and diapers

I’m sinking…
Tantrums, nappy rash and\ or daycare?

I’m saturated……
Barney, Phonics and Tom and Jerry

I’m suffocating…….
Puréed Veggies, diluted juices and mashed potatoes

This is my life, its me!
not always, but for now
not forever, only just for now.
though now feels like forever.
please dont save me, no not ever.