Sunday, September 21, 2014

Secrets

A child keeps no secrets
From her parents
Not because she
Feels comfortable confiding
With those busy adults
Who managed to find time to
Bless the world with her existence
She tells them everything she knows,
Everything she has done,
The extra chocolate or cookie she ate
The day she forgot her math homework
She tells these to her parents
Because she feels it's her duty
Because she's afraid and thinks
Telling them is better than
Them finding out

She leaves childhood and is now
In the world between childhood and
Adulthood
The time of growing up
Where bruises are no longer of skin
But heart
Theft is not of pretty pencil or eraser
But love
Where lies are not about having an extra cookie
But who did what and with whom
And she learns the art of
Keeping secrets
From them,
The parents who are suddenly finding time to
Watch carefully
Observe her every move, every word
And she hides away stories about those
Kisses, cigarettes and booze
She doesn't tells them where she's been
Dates are shrugged off as
'Hanging out with friends'
So no one panics, scolds or punishes
And forces her to
Skip the stage of growing up
Where mistakes are made
New things are discovered
Explorations and experiments are enjoyed
And secrets are kept

Finally, a grownup
She sees the world in a new light
She loves less fiercely, maybe
But much more deeply
She feels a billion emotions
But has them under control
She now goes back to habit of childhood
And shares with her parents
Her life,
No more are secrets kept
That skill learnt while growing up
Not forgotten, but put away for the time being
And she confides with them
Not out of fear
Or obligation
But because
She wants someone to listen and who could understand better
Than a parent?

She looks at her own gift to the world
A little boy, in that age where no
Secrets are kept
A boy who runs to her crying,
Saying he broke her favorite mug
And would she forgive him
And now, that skill acquired
When growing up
It comes to the surface again
Dusted and put into use again
For now,
Secrets are kept
Not to hurt or decieve
But to keep safe,
Her children,
Her innocent, naive children,
From the evils and cruel ways of life
From the mistakes she has made
From the world in between
Childhood and adulthood
When secrets are kept by the one growing up
And the adult, parent

Thursday, September 11, 2014

ආදරය යනු


ආදරය යනු කුමක්දැයි
ඇගෙන් ඇසූවිට
පිළිතුරක් නොමැතිව
අවුරුදු ගණනක්
නිශ්ශබ්දව සිටියා
එහෙත් දැන්
ඇයට දෙන්න පිළිතුරක් ඇත

ආදරය යනු
ඇය ගෙදර එනකන්
රෑවෙනකන් ඇහැරන් සිටින
ඇගේ මවට, ඇයව දුටු විට
දැනෙන සතුටයි

ආදරය යනු
ඇය කලාතුරකින් හදන
බත්වලටයි, පරිප්පුවලටයි
ලුණු, මිරිස් නැතත්
යන්තමට රොස්වී ඇතත්
බෙදාදුන් ඔක්කොම කන
තම අයියා
‘කෑම රසයි’ කීමය

ආදරය යනු
විභාග ලංවුවිට
නොතේරෙන විෂයන් ගැන
ඇය පාඩම් පොත් කියවනවිට
අසා සිටින
ඇගේ ජීවිතය ගැන
කන්තෝරුවේ සිද්දි ගැන
ඉවසිල්ලෙන් අහං ඉන්න
ඇගේ අත්තම්මාට
සමහර වෙලාවට
නින්දයන අයුරුය

Roadkill

Love
Innocence
Happiness
Youth
In the animal world
Between two squirrels
Furry bodies and tails
Taking flying steps
Stopping briefly
Looking at each other
Running again
Maybe lovers
Drunk on love
Maybe friends
Recklessness of youth
Escaping death
Laughing
They are the survivors, eh?
Giving us all hope
That life need not end
Death can wait
Why be boring
When you can be daring
An adventure awaits
They laugh at us
'Oh you cautious beings
Have some fun'
And the humans
They see
They smile
They laugh
Happy that
In a world of tears and hate
The innocent, the young
Can take a risk
And dance on busy roads
And the happiness lasts
For both human and animal
Until...

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

She loved...

She loved the rain
How it lightly kissed the windowpane
Leaving rainbow colored teardrops
How it was in bitter war outside
Tore plants from ground and howled with the wind
How it was a blessing
Romanticizing walks and kisses and sharing umbrellas
How it was a cursed reminder
Of the darkness within her

She loved books
How the new pages were still untouched
The words still unread
How the dusty pages made you sneeze
And the ink faded into paper
How the fragrance of freshness
Made her have hope
How the histories and prior ownerships
Made her feel like she belonged

She loved a boy
How he spoke slowly, choosing words carefully
Talking about the most ordinary but strange things
How his eyes were large and curious
And absorbed the color of the world he lived in
How his fingers were long, ink stained
Arms strong, making her feel safe in his embrace
How he smiled a wide smile
Rarely but perfectly

She loved life
How everything made sense
When happiness and love kept her warm
How everything turned into scattered ashes
When her heart was empty of feeling
How life flowed smoothly
Like a stream of water, from faucet to drain
How it was everything she hated
But also, everything she loved

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

clutter and chaos



He looks at her through
Stacks of books
Piles of paper
Ink stains on inkless pens
Crumbs on table
Unwashed mug
Messy desk
Cluttered drawers
Books and novels
So much chaos

And he complains that
She should behave like a girl
Tidy her table
Wash her mug
Wipe away the crumbs
Throw away the used notebooks
And pens that are no longer usable

She smiles and laughs
Sometimes apologizes
Makes an effort to
Tidy up, be more lady-like
She throws away paper
No longer needed
Puts away books
Once read and enjoyed
Washes her mug
Even uses soap

And then the pens, paper, books, crumbs
Pile up on her desk
Once again
And sticky notes that once carried
Message, important
Fall to ground, softly, unnoticed
He shakes his head
Why can’t she change for good?
And this time, she doesn’t even bother to
Pretend she has turned over a new leaf
And doesn’t wash mug or throw away paper
Or tidy up the drawers that cannot even be shut

For the clutter around her
Isn’t just a mess she made
But a part of her
Like her messy, unkempt hair
Scattered thoughts
And mismatched words
She is a girl of
Unwashed mug
Crumb-scattered table
She is a collector of
Notebooks covered in words and doodles
Pens long empty of ink
Post-its that carry once important messages
She is a girl of clutter and chaos

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

The same thing happened every day

The same thing happened every day

He would walk down that road
where there were just enough shady bits
to dart to on a sunny afternoon
the time he always chose to walk
first, down and then up that road
that had a name he never bothered to learn
and she would wait near the gate
black and dry, a light layer of dust
waiting to be washed away by the rains
that were yet to threaten their lives
and she would see him from a distance
wonder if it was really him
and then slowly, features would become clearer
she would recognize gait, figure, him
smile with excitement
wave
and he would smile and wave back
walking towards her
then they would meet at gate
hug once gate is shut behind them and walk
to veranda, smiling and blushing, but silent
he would sit facing her neighbor's garden
she would sit facing the clear sky undisturbed
by man-made building
they would sit, facing each other
look into distance, let eyes meets
smile and share a few words
then,
it would be time for him to go
and they would walk up to gate
hug again, hold each others hands for
just a second or two
say goodbye
and she would watch him walk up that
road with a name she always disliked
he would turn back as he passed the
brick-red house
she would smile and wave at him
and he would always wave back

The same thing happened every day

Until one day
instead of walking up to the gate
hugging and holding hands for a
second or two
he leaned in and touched her lips
with his own
and she closed her eyes
trying to enjoy the moment
a moment, a kiss, that didn't last more than
a second or two
much like the
hugging and hand-holding
and he walked up that road
with a name he never bothered to learn
he didn't turn back
so she didn't smile and wave
and he didn't have to smile and wave back
which he couldn't because
something was broken
and this something couldn't be fixed, he knew
he blamed himself
knowing he would never make this tiring journey
in the hot sun
to her house again, smile or talk with her
look at her, hug her, hold her hand
and she didn't wait for him to walk into the distance
until she couldn't see him anymore
because she knew
he wouldn't come back
and waiting for him
seemed quite useless and a waste of time
so she went to her room
and read the book they had made theirs
for one last time
even reading 'The End' on that last page
knowing those words
also ended that beautiful something
that had made all those moments of
waiting, smiling, waving, hugging, hand-holding
ritual she depended on
like sunrise and sunset

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

ඔබට ලියු වචන

සමහරවිට
මම ලියන දේ කියවා
ඒ වචන
ඔබට ලියු ඒවා යයි
ඔබට හිතේවි
එහෙම හිතන එක
සාදාරනයි
එහෙම හිතන්න
හේතු ගොඩක් ඇති ඔයාට
එත් මම ලියන වචන
මට ලියන ඒවා මිස
අන් කිසිවෙකුට ලියන ඒවා නොවේ
ඒ නිසා
නැති තේරුම් ඒ කවි වලට දී
සැබෑ තේරුම
නැතිකරන්න එපා

Monday, July 28, 2014

Warning

Here's a warning
Something
I should wear
Around my neck
So people are
Warned
And they can't
Complain

Warning
I will seem all bubbly
...at first
I'll be happy
To see you
To meet you
To talk with you
I will reply to texts
Immediately
And then, slowly
The reading of message
and replying
Will take longer
and longer
And I will shorten my answers
And those bursts of emotions
of happiness
They will reduce
Until they are
No more

Warning
I will cry
Let you know
Once in a while
That my heart aches
and tears flow
For a past I can't relive
Or for one who was
Once a big part
Of my life
And I will tell you
'Oh these silly mood swings
They come, but they go
Don't worry
Passing phase'
And then
Slowly
or all at once
(depends on how unfortunate you are)
Those bad days will drag on
And they will stop being mood swings
Bad days
For they are my normal days
My voice, shaking
Hands trembling
Heart seeking
Everything
But your love
Everyone
But you

Warning
I will tell you to leave
To leave me alone
'I'm not worth your time
Just go
Save your self
Before its too late'
And I will cry a tear for you
In your presence
I will let my voice tremble
And I will tell you
One final time
That I love you
But that
I can't give you that love
Or accept your love
And you will go
Never looking back
Cursing
Hating
(hopefully) crying
And then
When you are gone
I will write poems for you
Hope you read my words
And realize that when I said
Leave
 I meant, stay
I love you
 I meant, I need you
You don't deserve me
 I meant, I wish I could be enough
I'm bad news
 I meant, I'm trying. But failing

Warning
This is not for the
present you
But those that belong in the
past

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Numbers

She found numbers
fascinating
and believed
there were good numbers
and bad ones
the thirteens
and other odds
besides the safer
evens

So she noticed that
there were at first five
an odd number
and not a good one
the table had room for six
but they nearly always
bought plates in fours
although she couldn't remember
a day when they all sat
around the table
for dinner
And the car had room
for five, or even six,
but that would be a slightly tight fit
and yet,
there was never a day
when they all sat
there
in that little red car

Now there were four
a safer number
even
comfortable
there were always enough
plates of the same design
and dividing food
into equal shares
was much easier
even though
she couldn't remember
ever having to divide treats
into five equal shares
when they were a family of five
and not four
Her mother now bought
items and food
in even numbers
so much more easier
she even bought meat in
two pairs
'four chicken thighs'
she would ask
even though of the four
only three
ate meat
and the other who did
left
making them a family of
four and not five

Thursday, July 17, 2014

during that time

During the time it takes
for message to be
typed
read
questioned
sent
delivered
received
read
reread
replied to
reply to be delivered
read

The skies have changed color
the river has journeyed to ocean
the birds have called it a day
the faint glimmer of stars cover sky

During that time
when actions are regretted
decisions are questioned
risks are taken
minds are made

Hearts have changed
thoughts have shifted
love has come
and love has gone