Thursday, November 14, 2013





Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Why did we

Why did we dream,
knowing our dreams
would never come true?
Why did we hope
knowing the odds were
against us?
Why did we pray
knowing the gods weren't
Why did we love
knowing our love wouldn't
stand the test of time?

We dreamed because
our hearts were young and
the world was ours
we hoped because
hand in hand, it seemed like
all we could do
we prayed because
we thought our prayers
would be heard by someone
we loved because
that is what we thought
the world wanted us to do

Sunday, October 20, 2013

All Worth Fighting For

hiding behind
lost in the
unheard of
And yet,
he notices you
he sees the
hope in your eyes
a faint glimmer
but it is there
for you still
and dream
of love
of happiness
even when the scars itch
reminding you
of the world's darkness
the world's evil
You still believe
and he notices
He holds out his hand
for you to take
at first hesitant,
you might be
but take his hand
let him pull you up
brush away the dried leaves
and twigs
tangled in your hair
let him wipe away the tears
and let him make you smile
you will then see
in his eyes
the same sadness
seen in yours
and you will also see that
faint glimmer of hope
in his eyes,
the way he saw it
in yours

This isn't a love story
this isn't about
finding your soul mate
there will be no heartbreak
or love letters burnt
This is the story
of two wounded soldiers
fighting against the world
their weapons are love
kindness and faith
but such is life
and they will walk on,
but they wont give up
for when they see the world's
hate and anger,
they lose hope
but then,
they look into each others eyes
and they see
that glimmer of everything
worth fighting for

Friday, October 11, 2013

Our Journey

Over the mountains
we will go
cross valleys
and valleys green
we will sail beyond
oceans blue
and seas stormy
seas sleeping
we will walk from
desert to desert
we will swim across lakes
and rivers
fly over the lands
and through the clouds
we will see the world
and we will learn it all

And why us
you ask
why not someone else?
why does the world
want us to know
the secrets it hid
for centuries
and more
why make us
walk on bloodied feet
why make us have
sleepless nights
of hunger
why do we need to
let the dust
coat our skin
and swat at the flies
that land on our
matted, unwashed hair?

Yes, why indeed
not let another
go on the adventure
meant for us
Why not say no
to the world's
to explore and discover
maybe even,
why not take up
the greatest journey
to unravel the mysteries
of this world
why not listen to the songs
of the winds
and the stories
of the thunder?
why not play along to the games
of the oceans
and why not let the
sun write our story?

Why say no to the secrets
why not discover
love and hope?
Why not make our
dreams come true
why not have more hope
and faith?

Instead we sit through
our everyday lives
the same old things
boring and
We don't leave the comfort of our homes
even when our homes are
we cling on to what little we have
and don't listen to the
calling of the earth
then when we are too weak
and old
we hear that calling once again
and we want to set out on that journey
but too late it is
much too late

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

The storage cupboard

I stand there
Breathing hard
My chest
Slightly aching
And I can't take
Another step
I just wan t to
Keep staring
At the storage
Wood painted
Glass front
With a
Lock that struggles
And then I notice
We are the
Same height now
The days I had
To stand on tiptoe
To reach the top shelf
Long gone
Without being noticed
By me

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Will you come with me?

 Will you come with me
To a cemetery
When the sun is setting
And the skies are dark?
Will you keep me company
While I walk among
Of tombstones
Of the dead?
Will you hold my hand
When the leaves rustle
And the homeless ghosts
Come out to play?
Will you come with me
To a cemetery
To watch the sun set
Behind the graves?



Monday, October 7, 2013

Moment of Surender

There are two things
I remember perfectly well
of that trip back home

It was the usual flight
to Colombo,
except the weather was
There is another exception
and that is what I remember
the most
We didn't get our usual seats
not in Business Class
or Economy
No, our seats were right behind
the men who held the pen
that writes
our stories
the men who could decide to write
The End whenever they felt like it
Or so I like to think
even though I know of
Auto Pilot and all those
beeping lights
and broken voices
Forget all that though,
what mattered the most was the view
the night sky
and thunder
booming around us
a silent threat
but a threat nevertheless
And let me tell you this
people who believe in heaven
that is what heaven should look like
the night sky
on a stormy day
seen from the cockpit
of a plane
And they,
the pilots,
laughed and chatted with us
Munching on pretzels and
catching up on life

While I sat there,
my brother next to me
I felt something more than just joy
I surendered
to life
I knew that if
something went wrong
I wouldn't survive the crash
But it didn't matter
because life was too
at that moment
to care about the end
It was too perfect to
wonder if it wouldn't last long
And so I surendered
And I survived

Saturday, October 5, 2013

Needles and ink

I am afraid of needles
Blood tests?
I'd rather die
Oh the tattoo?
I can explain
The pain was worth it
How long?
One hour
Thirty minutes
Five times,
Over and over again
The needle scraped through my skin
It hurt
I wished for death
But soon
I was numb to the pain
We all get that way, I guess
About various things in life
We get used to the pain
And then it's all over
The buzzing of the world
And you look at
The most beautiful
Work of art
You have ever seen
And at that moment of pure happiness
The pain
Was worth it
The pain was
Acceptable even

I still shudder
At the thought of
Blood tests
But if they too
Left beautiful reminders
Maybe, I wouldn't
Dread them
As much


She is dying,
they say
aren't we all
I ask
they shoot me looks
asking me to
only talk when
absolutely necessary
She's dying
they say again
as if none of us
knew before
as if this is all
sudden and
even though
it's not
we await this news
since the day we are born
if it's not him
it will be her
or maybe someone else
either way
we are all going
and we can accept this
during those moments
dying and death
but when the clock strikes
a particular hour
when there is simply
no more life
the fear
the denial
we don't want to go
for death,
unknown to us,
it robs us of everything
most of all,
of what we love the most,

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

The forgotten place

I went back to that place
You told me about
The place where a version of you
Still lives
I don't know if
I'm it's only visitor now
In an ocean if them
Blogs soon go forgotten
But there
I read that penultimate post
And I realized something about you
That even though you walk
Your head held high
A cigarette dangling at your lips
You are still that
Scared and scarred
Boy you were
Three years ago
And nothing has changed
But no one knows
And I can't tell you either
You are the boy
Who enjoys sitting in the scorching sun
Just to be away from the voices
You are the loner
Who tries to make others fit in
Only because you too, don't
But no body knows

And now I see a different side of you
Happy, goofy and funny
Is this the real you,
I wonder at times,
And I'm happy of this change
But then I remember
The scared and scarred boy
And I'll visit your secret place
Every now and then
Because it feels like
If I'd known you back then
We wouldn't be the strangers
We are today

Monday, September 30, 2013


I can't tell you
where I'll be
this time
next year
I can't promise to
be there for you
when everything
crashes to the ground
I can't promise to
hold your hand
or lend a shoulder
for you to cry on
I can't tell you
if I'll still be here
to listen to you
and be there for you

Yet, know that
regardless of
my promises
and stupid decisions
Regardless of
all the hurtful
I say to you
Regardless of
each time
I pushed you away
from me
Regardless of all that
if you come to me, broken
I will fix everything
I possibly could

I wouldn't do this
because I
still love you
in one way or the other
or because I
have a heart
that forgives
and forgets
or because I am
too tired to
let the past
haunt my future
But because
no matter what
I can't look at your eyes
and let you go, again

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Soap bubbles

The night was young
But it was dark
And it was tired
I should have
Noticed the stars
And the moon
The clouds
But I didn't
Excuses I can give
But I won't
The memory of tonight
Would have been better
More beautiful
If I had noticed
The stars,
And clouds
But I remember
Everything else
Our smiles
As we blew
Soap bubble
Soap bubble
Into the deep
Dark sky
And people could have
Because none of us
Were kids
But it didn't matter
I wasn't nineteen
Scared and lost
I was back in the past
Ten years
Blowing soap bubbles

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

fairy lights

You and i
different worlds
we lived in
but we made
our own little world
where there were rainbows
that ended
at pots of gold
the sun peeked over
mountains and hills
covered in grass they were
fireflies danced against the night skies
the stars and fairy lights
and wishes and dreams
we made this world
you and i
and we took up residence
in that world
but our stay
wasn't forever
the ticket in
had an expiry day
slowly the
fairy lights
became a distant memory
and we knew
our time was up
the sun screamed
and burned us
not with hatred
or anger
but warning
before its too late
before you see each other
for who you really are
did we listen?
not until
it was too late
for you and i
and when we finally bade
our world goodbye
there was very little
left of it
but most of all
there was very little
left of

Monday, September 23, 2013

Be patient

Be patient
I'm still learning
Be patient
I'm still a kid
Be patient
I need you to
Be patient
Promise you will

I don't know
What I should do
I don't know
What I shouldn't do
I'll make mistakes
Not one or two
But I'll learn from them
I promise I will

So be patient
You were a child once
Don't teach me
Show me the way
I may not always listen
I'm stubborn, you know 
But I'm learning
So be patient

Saturday, September 21, 2013


You are disappointed
in me?
by me?
These aren't first world problems
you say
to me?
Well, you didn't disappoint me
because I had no
You told me not to
have any at all
and so I didn't
But I did feel things
worse than disappointment
hate. Anger
You made me hate
You made me angry
and now
You blame me
because I'm the childish little
bitch here?
Maybe I am childish
Maybe I am a bitch
but you know what you are?
You are all of that too
Because I am to blame
but so are you

Just a Kid

I'm still a kid
Don't you know that?
I may make demands
I may want to always
have my way
But that's because
I'm still a kid
And I know
you don't see a kid
when you look at me
and you notice the grown up features
the grown up things I do
But I'm still nineteen
a teenager
doing things most
twenty two year old don't do
So don't treat me
like an adult
you do this sometimes
and it hurts
and its overwhelming
When you look at me
imagine your self
when you were my age
treat me like a kid
because I'm still
just a kid

Friday, September 20, 2013

Stories of the past

You never knew
About my present
Do you realize that?
You only knew
Of my long ago past
Do you realize that?
For some reason
Even I don't know
I left you in the dark
I chose what stories
I should tell you
You thought you knew it all
But that's okay
It wouldn't have mattered
The story telling soon stopped
You left, then I left
We both left
But we left each other

Thursday, September 19, 2013

eyes half closed

eyes half closed
or half open
maybe both
but they are
tired beyond the
usual tiredness
of having lived
she counts the
how much time
has passed
but her mind
wanders too much
her mind needs sleep
her body
screams for it
one more thing
to do though
leave a message
not for others to know
she lived through the day
just another day
but to remind her self
when things start going
that on a day of the past
she lived through
something similar
or something
she survived
she was still alive
So eyes
half open
half closed
'dear diary'
she writes

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

his smile so haunting
his look piercing, daunting
walks away, defeated

why dream when you can
do without false hope he said
as he walked away


"How are you?"
He asks her
She smiles
as she always does
when questions are asked
She thinks,
answer yes
and lie
at least he wouldn't
Or answer no,
tell the truth,
but he'll want to know
the reason
Her smile has now
and the seconds are passing
she knows he's waiting for her
And as he looks at her
he notices every thing
even the slightest shift
in her expression
But she doesn't know that
he notices
for she thinks
he's dumb,
like all the other men
So she chooses her reply
shrugs and says,
"I'm okay"
smiles again
to say, she's not
He thinks she knows that
he knows
its an act
but she doesn't
So he asks
no more questions
instead giving her
the time and space she needs
before she can tell him
She thinks
he doesn't care
like all the other men

Monday, September 16, 2013


We knew what heartbreak was
Even before we could walk
We knew what it was like to expect
And then have your dreams crushed

Our hearts were broken not by people
We cried tears not for others
Our tears were for scraped knees
Broken hearts for toys we didn't get

We built houses, where our stories were told
Walls and a roof, to keep us safe
They were not made of brick or stone
Playhouses where our childhood was spent

Sunday, September 15, 2013

The real me

Do you even know who I am?
Now, don't say that you do
Because I know you don't
How can you know me
When I haven't told you anything
And you've only seen
A fraction of who I am
So don't say you know me,
Because you don't
And I don't want you to
Yes, I don't want you
Or anyone else to know who I am
Secrets, you can't keep
And you'll tell everyone
And they'll know everything
Soon enough
Who I am
Won't be a mystery
And so I won't tell you
And I won't let you know
The real me
I remember how you smirked
When I told you
'There's me, the loud chatterbox
The one who is lost
And messy and
The one who doesn't care.
Then there's me, the real me
I know where I'm headed
Or rather I know
Where I want to be
But I'm scared
For what I want
Isn't what I need'
So I won't tell you
Or even attempt to
Like I did moments ago
For you will dismiss it,
Childish stories
Attention seeker
Wanna be emo girl
And I will never let you know
Or see
The person I am.
So don't ever tell me
That you know who I am
Because you don't
And you never will

Friday, September 13, 2013

Faces in a Crowd

Do you look at the faces
In a crowd?
Do you look into their eyes
And read their stories?
Do you notice their
Bodily imperfections?
Do you see how beautiful
They all are?
Do you see their lives as they
Walk by?
Do you smile to tell them you
Know their secrets?
Or are you too busy
To notice the faces?
Do you not look up at the
Ambulance roaring past you?
Do you realize that soon enough
You'll be in one?
Do you just let life go on
Without ever living?

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

the Happy Page

The Happy Page said,
this is what happiness is
definitions of happiness
I looked at
image after image
liking some
agreeing with others
pyjama weekends
reading your chat history
the list went on
and happiness is all of that
not just one thing,
or one moment
And I realized
there were ways of feeling happy
that I hadn't even thought about
so I will make a bucket list
and I will be happy

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Reading my blog

"He reads your blog,
You know?"
You told me
Over and over again
Of course I know,
He reads it
And a few others do too
"But you write about your life
Have you mentioned me?"
What is it you are afraid of?
Do you not want people
To know we are friends?
Are you ashamed of our friendship?
"It's just...
I think you shouldn't be putting up
Your life on the web"
It's my blog,
And I'll post whatever I want
Not your problem
"Well, can I at least read it?
What's the link?"
You found the page,
Do you go back there?
Do you like what you see?
"You don't want to be my friend
In the future?
But I thought..."
A few lines into reading my posts
You had already
Misunderstood what I said
Go read the other one
The one I post on Facebook
You may like that more

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Writing for you

I wait for an update
Checking your blog
Nearly everyday
But then it slowly
Dawned on me
That the waiting was useless
For just how I
Slowly stopped writing
For you
You stopped writing for me
And we became two people
Who once made
Memories together
And now
Our blogs remain
The posts not for each other
About each other
But never for
That's how life is,
I've learned
That's how love is
You taught me
I can live with
The thousands of reasons
Why it wasn't meant to be
But I can't live with why
We didn't let it be

Shooting Stars

I had no list
For Santa Claus
I had no wishes
For the shooting stars
I couldn't afford
To dream or hope
For the world is no
Wish granting factory
And yet as the night ended
Another day gone by
We stood there
Hand in hand
Watching the waves crash
Into each other
Our hearts beating as one
Yearning for all that we can't have

Write to Reconcile

Page after page
that new book smell
small black letters
carved into
untouched paper
our names on print
the words
we put together
day and night
creating a
not always
fictitious world
where characters came alive
our thoughts given a voice
and now
the book in print
we hold it
too scared that
our human touch
will wake us up
for this reality
is so perfect
the moments
they seem like
a dream

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

We hoped

We hoped beyond
What life allowed us
We wished beyond
What we could afford
We dreamed of things
We could never have
We pictured a life
We could never live
We crossed the borders
We were warned against
We found our selves
Wandering away from home
We looked for treasures
Where there were none
We lost our way
And we lost each other

Friday, August 30, 2013

Haunting Secrets

We all have our stories
With gaping holes
We fill them up
With what we want
Reality to be
Other stories
They can't be shared
Too private
To talk about
And those
We give them words too
But never reveal
The whole truth
For we are afraid that
When given words
Our dreamlike secrets
Will become reality
The magic will die
And we will be left with
Ordinary memories
No different from the others
So we write
Poems, stories
Never giving out names
Hoping the unnamed
Will read them
But most of
We just want to
Let go of the secrets
That keep haunting us


Can't do without
Your home page
Full of posts
Share to cure cancer
Like if you love your mum
The gossip
And status updates
Then there is
That dreadful list
Of all those online
People you avoid
People you hate
And people you don't mind
Next to them all
The little green ball
A sign that they are
Available to talk
But the people you want to
Share a few words with
Even a smiley or two
Ah! The light ain't green
They are never online
When you are
So you choose to
Appear offline
And take on the role
Of a stalker or silent watcher
But then right when you
Open a new tab
With a movie to watch
Or a game to play
The sound alarms you
Someone says hey
You think,
Should I let them know
I saw their message
Or just ignore it?
It's the never ending game
We all play
Beats Candy Crush
And Criminal Case

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

About the you I sometimes write about

Sometimes it feels like
I write for someone,
A specific person
The 'you' in the poems
But there isn't a you,
There isn't anyone
Just my imagination
And letters, words I love
Fragments of my life
You will find
Promises made,
Promises broken
They go down as words
On a blog that is my sanctuary
The words are selfish
But so are people
Don't assume
My heart is broken
When I write about love
Long lost
Don't assume
My strings are uncut
When I write about life,
Happiness and joy
The poems,
Take it as they are
Don't give the people faces
Or the memories dates
They are real and they are not
And only I know
You too, maybe
But I doubt you remember

Walk of life

Don't be afraid
If the world is too dark
And you can't see
The road ahead
Don't slow down
Or turn back
Life is too short
To start over again
The fireflies
They'll light the way
And the candles
Too, flames of gold
You will go on
Legs aching,
Feet cracked and bleeding

Monday, August 26, 2013

sea shells

we stepped on the sea shells
eyes watching the sun
our ears hearing no voices
only the song of the waves

the sand covered our wet feet
the wind brushed against our faces
we walked towards the future
our forever waiting to be lived

the shells made us wince slightly in pain
the salt of the ocean cut through out skin
our ears filled with the thick wind
our voices silenced by the great seas

our foot steps washed away
no more are they our's
just you and I now
forever left abandoned, unlived


Nangi, you aren't looking.
There, right there
It's a constellation
Point your finger toward the sky
Your arm stretched
Like my arm.
Now slowly and carefully
Follow my finger,
Trace the stars with me
And unveil what it hides
The bear maybe,
Isn't that your favorite
Or is it the scorpion?
Trace the stars
And I will tell you a story.
A deep dark secret

You see, Nangi,
Once there was a constellation
There was a mother star,
A father star,
Three child stars
One day the mother star left
For the desert lands
She had to light up the sandy acres
You mayn't understand
But the mother star had to
Work hard to keep
Her family happy
So the constellation was missing a star
But they went on
Then the father star left too
He was needed elsewhere
Understand this, my dear,
You are too young, I know
But he didn't go to kill
Even though that's what
The other kids say
No, the father star went to
Fight for his country
But he's yet to come home
Like one of the child stars
He stepped on something bad
And he blew out
The way all stars do at the end.
But he blew out at too young an age.

The two star constellation
Was lost, alone and scared
They stopped being a constellation
Of their own
And instead joined this constellation
And that constellation
Until, there was no where else to go
But no matter what happened
No matter how hard times got
The brother star
Never stopped loving
The sister star
And the sister star never
Left her brother's side
And even when the dark was
So incredibly dark,
They kept shining,
They didn't let the world
Pull them apart
Nangi, the story doesn't end there
Our stories are too long
And too unique
To say it all at once.
But remember,
Don't let the night sky scare you
And don't let the bright sky
Blind you
Nangi, don't leave the constellation
It may be difficult to stay,
But it's even worse to leave.

Sunday, August 25, 2013


the night was made of
silent whispers
that slightly echoed
through the darkness
a candle was lit
stuck on to a
long empty jar of jam
they held their hands
before the flame
and smiled at the shadows
they made
the night was full of
as shadowed hands
danced to
silent songs
of their minds

You said

You said,
Promise me
You won't cry,
I didn't promise,
But I did cry
I sobbed and you listened

You said,
We'll always be friends
We didn't promise each other
A forever
And look at us now,
Going our own ways

You said,
I like you,
And I said, I like you
Past tense now
Truth is, there was never any like,
Empty words they were

You said,
Hold on tight
And I did
Feeling safe so close to you
And then you were no more
It was time for you to go

You said,
Let it go,
You are hurting your self
And I let go
Of the past that kept haunting me
Then you too became
A thing of the past

You said,
Why not?
And I said,
Just because,
You can't leave and then
Leave notes

You said,
Good bye
I nodded.
Can't remember if I smiled
I didn't see your smile
And that good bye wasn't good

Love, another poem

They throw the word around
Rob it of all meanings
Except that of romance
'I love you'
So hard to say now
For they panic
'Sorry I don't feel that way'
I feel like telling them,
No, you idiot
I love you
I don't want to
Go out with you
Or be more than friends
I just love you
But they wouldn't listen
They don't know that love
It has other forms
They are too stupid
Too tied up in the
Fairy tales
To believe that
People can love
With no romance involved

Monday, August 19, 2013

පොතක් ඇත

wrote a poem in the language I love the most, after ages!

පොතක් ඇත
එහි නම සාමය වේ
එය දැන් ඇත්තේ
අමතක වී ඇති
පොත් ගුල්ලෝ
එහි පිටු කා ඇත
අනෙක් පිටු
ගැලවී ඇත
දුවිලි වලින්
වැසී ඇත
කව දා හෝ
එම පොත
කියවති කවුරු හෝ
පිටු නැවත සවි කර
දුවිලි පිහිදා
එම පොතෙහි
පිටු පෙරලයි
නැවත දිනයක

Saturday, August 10, 2013


The yellow squares
hints that you
were here
not that long ago
messages scrawled
and stuck around
the computer I use

The yellow squares
to remind me of
this that and the other
'do this' or
'call so-and-so'
for my memory
often fails me

The yellow squares
to keep me strong
'smile, Shailee' or
'you can do this'
words of wisdom
or of interest
I have come across
over the years

The yellow squares
they are everywhere
some stick on
the others fall off
I throw away the ones
with curled in corners
and the ones that remind me
of things I don't want to be reminded of

The yellow squares
they are overwhelming
they suffocate me
and yet, without them
I'll never remember

Thursday, August 1, 2013

How far would you go

How far will you go
To save someone?

Would it be a thousand miles
or a thousand days?

Would it be until a thousand
tears are shed?

Would you let one winter
be followed by another?

Or would you only let
one sunset pass?

How far will you go
To save someone?

Would it be just today
or would you give it another day?

How far will you go,
if that someone is you?

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

What were you like?

What were you like,
When you were my age?
Do you see your self
When you look at me?
Did you smile at the world
Even though, you wanted to cry?
Did you keep your feelings bottled up?
Did you turn to word, written
Instead of word, spoken?
Were you constantly looking for answers
Knowing the answers would only disappoint?

What were you like,
When you were my age?
Are the similarities
Only in hair, features, looks?
Or do they go beyond that
To feelings, thoughts and preferences?

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Khaled Hosseini

Khaled Hosseini,
the one man who can
make it seem like
my heart has been sent through
a paper shredder.
Page by page,
you give hope
about each character
And then, you shatter dreams
in a single, simple line

Khaled Hosseini,
Did the mountain really echo?
is the tale too haunting
to read till the end?
I still hear Hassan's voice
from the Kite Runner,
"For you,
a thousand times over."

Khaled Hosseini,
is it you who has thrown me
right back in this
seemingly bottomless pit
of depression?
Are your words so strong,
that they can make
one cry?

Monday, July 15, 2013


Scars can be
those marks on our skin
when we tripped and fell
a bruised knee
or when the blade sliced our skin
when we thought the physical pain
was better than the mental agony

Scars can be
those marks in our mind
forever reminding us of
memories we wish
we could forget

Scars can be
what others leave behind
when their lives don't
have room for you

Scars can be
what you leave behind
when you choose to forget
choose to ignore
choose to push away

Scars are a many
and they will all decorate
your skin, your mind
the scars make you
who you are
they are the reason
you are unique

Scars fade away
with time
not all of them
some stay on,
forever a reminder
of what once was

Scars can be erased
with time,
or by effort
you forget,
memory fails you
the scars fade
they stop haunting

Scars, faded or forever,
will be left behind
you will scar
and you will be scarred

Saturday, July 13, 2013


We lie,
to our selves
we convince
our selves
of the truth behind
the lie.
We lie,
to the world
we make them believe
in the truth behind
the lie.
We lie,
to our selves and the world
of the truth behind
the lie.

When we lie,
the truth is buried
beneath the lies
we say.
When we lie to
our selves
the world will tell us
of the lie
and we will see the truth
When we lie to
the world
something in us,
knows it is not the truth
When we lie to our selves and the world,
the lie becomes the truth,
there's no one who really knows.

We lie,
because the truth
is too painful
too truthful
to be the one known.
We lie,
because we have no choice
or we think we don't
there's no hope
in the truth.
We lie,
because in the lie
we find solace
the one thing
the truth can't offer

Tuesday, July 9, 2013


A sudden realization
That is what I had
An epiphany
A thought that
Makes you say, 'huh!'
It explained things
Not everything
But most things

And as the sky darkened
I felt that relief
The relief of knowing
Of reaching the surface
Of that pit of water
I had been drowning in

I was told,
"You don't love people,
You love the fact that
They love you."
Makes sense now,
You love the need
You don't love the person

The epiphany
Made life lighter
It raised the
That pulled me down

Monday, July 8, 2013

Little Fly

Little fly,
What are you thinking
As you fly from phone to
book to mug?

Little fly,
You aren't so small
Your last day is closing in
Have you done all you want?

Little fly,
What do you plot
As you rub your hands together
So fast, so quietly?

Little fly,
Is it a prayer
A word of thanks
For the days you've lived so far?

Little fly,
Do you wish
You were bigger than you are
Or less despised?

Little fly,
What's your story?
The places you've been to
Where ever your wings take you

Little fly,
No need to worry
I am not like the others,
I will let you live

Little fly,
It's time now
For you to leave me alone
Find someone else to buzz around

Little fly,
It was nice watching you
But answers you didn't give.

Sunday, July 7, 2013


Don't say goodbye
For farewells
Cannot be good

Don't say, "I'll see you soon"
For how soon is soon?
Two hours or five months?

Don't say ILY
Three letters don't say what
The three words mean

Don't say, "I miss you"
When you haven't said a word
Each time I walked past you

Don't say you'll be there
When all I get
Are telephone rings

Don't say you are sorry
When we both know
You aren't

Don't say what you don't mean
For we can't afford to
Waste anymore words

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Dark skies

The powder blue
Of the mornings young
Or the darker one
Of afternoons bright
Nor the oranges
Or pinks
Of the evenings quiet

It was black
Of the nights so cold
The nights so dark
The nights so empty

It wasn't a shield anymore
No, the sky had chosen
It had chosen the gods of hate
It had chosen to reveal

For the dark skies
Make us remember
The hate
Make us see
The corruption
Make us cry
Of pain, hurt
The dark skies,
They show,
They reveal


Today's lunch
Just a few hours ago
I remember
Takes me seconds

Your name
I search my mind
What letter
How long

Shared with you
They are there
But buried deep
A movie
A conversation
A hug

Slowly fading away
Scaring me
That I forget too soon
That I won't remember
But will I?
Could I?
Should I?

Voices in my head

The voice in my head
Seems to get more louder
I hear it more often
It talks to me
Tells me what to do

The panic attacks
As I call them
Are getting more
I cannot breathe

The blackouts
When things go dark
When memory reminds me
I didn't live those moments
They take up too much of my time

The spacing out
I hear less and less
Of what is said,
I see less
I'm there less

The shivers
And cold sweats
Too many times a day
Stronger and stronger
Lasting longer and longer

I ignore them
Or I try to
I smile and pretend
Everything is okay
But nothing is

Sunday, June 30, 2013

Thought: The Sun doesn't Set

He stands against the
setting sun
staring into the nothingness
of the oceans great
or the skies so far

Thought: the sun doesn't set
It is stationary.
The Earth orbits around it
We are the ones moving
Forever and ever, until we stop

Thought: knowing the sun is still
doesn't change it's unmoving-ness
knowledge is good, to be yearned for
but knowledge,
it doesn't change the truth

He stands against the
orange skies
darkening with each breath
he smiles, for he knows,
he sees the truth for what it is

Monday, June 17, 2013

Porcelain Doll

A porcelain doll
That's what you are
So perfect and beautiful
And yet so fragile
One fall
And you will shatter into
and infinite number of
that was once a beautiful
porcelain doll
You are that,
still in the cardboard packing
a lovely gift
but too precious
to play with
so you lie there
as the dust gathers outside
untouched, unseen
too pretty to be played with
too pretty to be useful

Sunday, June 16, 2013


I watched the blood drain
out of your body
and make a dark red puddle
on the old wooden floor
Your heart giving up,
too desperate to stop
your lungs taking in that final breath
your fingers shook
as the pain shot through
your eye lids fluttered
like butterfly wings
your fair skin was stained
close to your lips
a small scratch in the beautiful
masterpiece that you were

And then I opened my eyes
and saw nothing but darkness
a dream, a thought
I didn't want to know which
But I had watched helplessly
if tomorrow, you gave up
I mayn't be able to do anything
but stand aside and watch

Sunday, June 9, 2013


You left without a good bye
One day, you were just gone
Not you the person,
He left long before
But your presence
The mug you used
Your clothes
It was almost as if
This had never been your home
But you did leave behind
Something that wasn't enough
A forgotten sarong,
And two prayer books
They weren't enough
To remind us
That once you lived with us
And now you didn't

Thursday, May 30, 2013


I don't want a man who drinks
Because I've seen what a drunk man
Could do.
I don't want a friend who is heartless
Because I've seen what a heartless friend
Could do.
I don't want a parent who doesn't care
Because I've seen what a careless parent
Could do.
And I don't want to need anything
Because I've seen what needs
Could do.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013


tired eyes can't see
tired hearts can't beat
tired lives can't live
tired minds can't think

tired lips can't sing
tired players can't win
tired boats can't rock
tired lovers can't love

Friday, May 24, 2013


Love with its silence
A quiet existence
It's not in your face,
Your raised eye brows
Or crooked grin

Love with its infinite ways
A suffocating presence
Your smile genuine
As you hold my hand
Praying for my pain to go away

Love with its forgottenness
Once there, now no more
You look away,
As your eyes meet mine
That smile a mere memory
The smile that made everything okay

Love with its discarded life
Thrown away with many a other things
It's in the rare messages
Or gifts or calls
But when we hug
It's the one thing missing

(For all the different loves and different 'you's of my life )


Friday, May 10, 2013

Painter, prisoner, blindman

He looks at the canvas
A dirty white,
Waiting to be covered in
An infinite number of colors
He dips the paintbrush
In a cup of thick paint
A shiny midnight blue it is
He paints the sky
The blue sheet he has never seen
And closes his eyes trying to picture it all
Slight white traces of paint
The clouds he imagines
And golden yellow stars
The midnight blue
Dries as the sun sets
And the darkness outside thrives
Then he rips the canvas apart
For what he just painted,
What he has never seen
A constant reminder of
The past he doesn't know
The shreds of painted cloth
Land heavily on the cold stone floor
Of the prisoner's home
The tiny ray of moonlight
Which creeps through a small invisible crack
Lingers on that midnight blue
If the painter had looked closely
He would have seen
The tomorrow in his painting
But he doesn't
For he sees nothing
Not the stars that shine
The moon that lights the world
Or the sky that protects it

Thursday, May 2, 2013

May Day

the color of blood
of hatred, anger
of suppression!

the color of communism
of the working class!

May Day came and went
rallies organized
speeches given
dance of the devil danced

the town was painted
green or blue
caps, t shirts, banners, flags
just no red!

Wednesday, May 1, 2013


Where heaven rests also does hell
The thunder clouds
On a stormy day
The wind howls through the
Shivering trees
Angels hide in their palaces
Of gold, made

But then shining through the clouds
The suns golden rays peak at the world
Drenched in the waters of the sky
The world lies still, scared and tired

And yet, the heavens dry
Whatever remaining evidence of
The great hell's tearful cry
And once again the skies are clear


Some people aren't meant to be understood
I recently realized
While reading through a friend's blog

Others shouldn't be understood
Why ruin the magic?
Their secrets are meant to be as hidden as yours

So why bother with so many questions
When the answers will only lead to
More questions?

Don't try to understand his long hair
Or her pierced tongue
These are mere screens to hide behind

Look beyond the ripples of great waters
And see the treasures that hide beneath
With these come understanding

Sunday, April 28, 2013


that ghastly word!
as terrible as the pimple
that dominates her face
from its burning throne

in the murky depths
of that endless well
coin after coin thrown
in hope of a wish come true

in the heat of the day
that makes even the
cold-blooded sweat
as they lay empty of life

in his wide smile
as he chuckles to him self
the bits that make up life
tickling him so much

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

anyone, anything

You don’t need to be a Christian
To love the silence of a church
You don’t need to be a Buddhist
To love the calmness of a temple

You don’t need to be someone
To love something
You can be anyone
And love anything

Sunday, April 14, 2013

who do you see?

What do you see
when you look at me?

Is it the image of a girl,
lost in her own world
where words are used
but written, not spoken
as she meditates in her own silence?

Or is it the image of a girl
lost in the drama of life
not her own, but that of others
for her life is filled
with the people she loves
and a constant chatterbox, she is?

Then again, is it the image of a girl
misunderstood too often
she wants little, and needs even less
yet, is given nothing at all.
A girl whose life
has been too full of lies
for her to trust in love?

Saturday, April 13, 2013

two ideas, one poem

You don't need to be a
To know the science of
You don't need to be a
To make miracles
You can ride into the
In search of your
Answers you wouldn't
Instead a new memory to

Of age and sight

I wonder how you see the world
Different eyes make a difference
The lenses you use
To see it all
Understand it all
Lightened with age
Widened with experience
What is it that you see
From where you are
What do you see?
Is it any different
From what I see?

Tuesday, April 9, 2013


steaming from the mug
the color of muddy water

That first sip
wetting dry lips
burning them, a beautiful pain

Some stick to the sips
slowly emptying the mug
never in a hurry

Others gulp it all down
the tea burning their insides
not even a final drop left behind

drunk by us all
loved by us all

Friday, March 29, 2013


White is peace
It is surrender
It is the giving up of hope
White is the cloth
That wraps the corpse
Burning to ashes
White is the thira
That lights the oil lamp
An offering to the Buddha
White is her saree
She wears to the temple
Praying for safety
White are the clouds
That float against the blue
Of a sky that has seen no hate

Replaced Noises

Replaced Noises
She once heard the pew pew pew of a gun
Now the songs of a bird
She once heard the boom boom of a bomb
Now the crashing waves of the ocean
She once heard the wailings of a child
Now the wind flying through the leaves
She once heard the hushed whispers of the day
Now the un-fearing voices of the night
She once heard “war, war, war!”
Now the stories of defeat of her friends


For her tomatoes meant few things.
The bright red of ketchup
Zigzagging on French Fries
The fine slices between buttered bread
Chopped cubes with cheese in a still hot Submarine

For him tomatoes meant other things.
Peppered for a salad, onions too
Preserved for future use, the jam bottles lined neatly
Tossed in with some salt, to the bubbling curry

For another her tomatoes were nothing
Only a dead memory
The small plots, plants so small
Bearing fruits of greens, yellows and reds.
The juice had splattered with her blood
A painting on a wall
Fruits that once found her some coins
Now paying not even for her life

Dust Covered Peace

Dust Covered Peace
In a dusty corner of her Achchi’s house
She found something she hadn’t seen before
It was in the dusty handkerchief that Seeya once used
Lying forgotten on a dusty dressing table, the mirror a cracked web
“What is this, Achchi?” she asked,
“I’ve never seen it before!”
Achchi held the handkerchief to her nose, breathing in the faint scent
Seeya’s once favorite perfume still there, unbeaten by age
She gave it to the little on, a gift to be treasured
“I haven’t seen it in many years
But I think its called peace!”

The President Speaks

The President Speaks
Can you end the war? Yes
Will you end the war? Yes
Will you punish the wicked? Yes
Will the roads be built? Yes
Are you going to give hope to others? Yes
Make sure their dreams come true? Yes
Will they love you as a leader, president and father?

Tears are for the Undead

Tears are for the Undead
With a shaking hand he tore the
Envelope open. Slowly, his hand
Reached out for the letter. He knew
What the words would say. Not news
To him was his son’s death. The
Young soldier too young to be
Holding a gun instead
Of a pen and paper. But the
Gun was chosen and
The gun had killed him. Now
A body that would never reach
His home. His father didn’t shed a single
Tear. What’s the use? His boy was
Already dead.

Victim of Suicide

Victim of Suicide
The little girl didn’t see what hit her
She never heard the boom
When people screamed
Telling her to move
She stood shock still
She felt the lady behind her
The rustling of a skirt
She felt, didn’t hear
The push to run away
Too late though she was
Because before she could turn
Or even run away
Her body was nothing but charred bits
Staining the buildings and shops

The Royal Corpse

The Royal Corpse
Jamma had a reason to be proud
Or at least she once did
Of her royal blood she used to talk
As if royalty still ran in her veins
Jaffna was a palace for her
A paradise built on earth
Then the earth shattered,
The thunder boomed,
The sun scorched the earth
She now looks at the
Newly built houses
Faces she doesn’t know
Janani Selvachchandi,
Once a queen
Now a corpse in a camp.

Thursday, February 28, 2013


Bats, everywhere
Flapping their arms against the pink skies
Almost as if disturbed they fly
The spectre returning to the
Abandoned house they once haunted
Tree God reclaiming
The winged banyan tree
Where they once resided

Saturday, February 23, 2013

the unseeing

he sees not what the sun looks like
setting over the coconut trees
the leaves an orange, than a green
as the sun passes behind it

he sees not though
the crow that flies
looking for his mates
his 'kaak kaak' only
a familiar music to his ears

he smiles a smile
but doesn't know
what it looks like
and a memory not to tell him

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

praying mantis

something we are all shamelessly thankful for
are seats,
anything to rest our bums on
are these seats
cushioned and comfortable?
does it feel like you are sitting
on the feathers of a thousand rare birds?
the plastic, or hard wood
the awkward leathers
or even worse the metal
they all remind me of
the Praying Mantis seat
at the house of Bawa
a silent prayer is a must
if you want to feel the presence
of your bottom again

H.E's Framed Smile

he smiles down at us
his smile warm
highlighted by his trademark mustache
his eyes mere slits
as if the shot was taken
with no pr-planning, no fuss
one of those rare genuine poses
he smiles
from his framed palace
at us, sitting in the
air-conditioned cold
waiting for the real thing

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

the monk

golden robes he wears
still as a statue he sits
emotional bliss

Surviving the labyrinth of life

The walls cave in
Darkness a curse
You thread carefully
Arms reaching out
For something, anything.
Sudden sunlight
Piercing through the
On and on this goes
Until the maze ends
The exit, golden door
Right before you
You reach out,
You've survived
You open it,
You die.

Four lines and a haiku on love

Lovers come
Lovers go
Lovers they
Never stay

He sits on the sand
Waiting for her to come back
She never looks back though

Sunday, February 10, 2013


For the revolution, stood the party
For their ideas, faught they hardly
Blame given, blame accepted partly
Terror reigned quite darkly

They killed not one, not two but thousands
Surely not were the Rds godsends
Never did they attempt to make amends
Showed, the law the people had dents

Slowly now the building crushed, falls
Posters, booklets burn down dark halls
Dreams broke like porcelain dolls
Fresh hope like a drizzle falls

Wednesday, February 6, 2013


No one ever looked at American and said
no one ever thought it was a
happy discovery

Thursday, January 24, 2013

A Sri Lankan's luck

Need a definition?
Luck is when you
Stand in the same spot
In crow crowded Colombo
For days and days
And never get shit upon
Luck is when
Not a single
Runny poop
Hits you on your head
Luck doesn't exist
Cause the crow,
He sits,
He shits,
It hits