Drops of Neptune - 'A Celestial High' By Dilantha Gunawardana
Did you lose yourself out there,
As you hung on to a journeyman, a king-size voyager,
Passing horizons, past the serenading blue;
In a deluge of tears from the aquamarine mass;
Drops of Neptune and an eerie cry from a space banshee;
Plodding towards a destiny, in to the dark twilight of the Oort's cloud;
Darker than nimbus, in a deluge of asteroids;
As orbitals gestured from all around;
In their ecliptic trajectories, Kepler's ghosts,
Even the shadows of moons, titans of the Milky Way;
All in a huddle, to bring you down to earth;
Away from the ominous clutches of a madman;
As you were cidal, in those ominous clouds;
Beckoning from above, amidst the white dwarfs and the jovian giants
As the shooting stars gestured your travels,
From the oceans of Neptune's tears;
As they ransacked your tranquil getaway to the heavens;
Celestial cocaine and heavenly heroin;
In your voyage with your beloved, the madman, the king,
Your celestial time bomb, in your lofty high,
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Lucky Ones
Beige-brown logs of decaying flesh float on the river;
Enumerable, abject.
The bough decapitated;
Near the zenith.
How long? how many more?
The elders wonder as they stare agape;
As the women on the riverbank,
Wallop their bosoms, wailing in a cohort, covered in sanguine red;
The chosen color of fate in this bed of feminocracy
A bleak country sans a vision or a voice;
As decapitated bodies float in the river,
Corpses nobody wants, nobody arrests;
As the bodies float to the jaws of a second death;
In the hands of slithering predators;
In the hallways of muddy banks; bewitching waters;
In a harrowing twilight.
Then one day, from the source of the river
Comes a speckle of hope,
A body, a bullet piercing a makeshift fontanelle,
Some unknown widow's husband, A mother's son,
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Mutant Butterfly
Vigilance of the wise man
A pristine awareness, untainted
By the sludge of superfluous knowledge
When ignorance speaks the tongue of bliss
Where fools rush in
Through judgmental trap doors, incarcerating the mind
To a colossal web of deceit
Die-hard disciples of caustic lies
Barcoding humanity with collective tags
Flung open by the arms of transparency
Shattering the sanity and sanctity
Of a God bestowed temple of an indispensable privacy
A human right shining forth the individualism of one, our genetic integrity
Nurtured by mother earth and by the unconditional love of foster parents
To spawn inimitable man, to soar to unforeseen heights
With her own god-given plumage, an immaculate birth rite
A legacy bred by the fore-fathers, as toil was shed on the soils of the earth
To pave foot paths of prosperity
Yet, superfluous transparency prospers in the hands of renegade souls
Playing god to innocent yet suspecting creatures,
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Surrealism of Liberty
Open your eyes
Connect to your fellow man, me Dili
A quenched soul, parched of steadfast hope
Filth of the man that used to walk the soil
With a bounce in his steps, the gait of a free eland
Yet, the winds flurried my essence
The sun evaporated my soul
A lion's roar transformed to a squeal of a yard mouse
A day sleeper, a bat stripped bare of echo-location
Bouncing from tree to tree, erect corpses
Deaf to the echoes of my screeching lungs
Gasping for air, as the heart labors in to the dire depths
Of an agonizing slumber, awaiting a winter's hibernation
For the rupture of vessels, as pirouetting blades of apathy
Carve open the crumbling heart in its final stance
As my pillows of freedom, my sheets of privacy
Were stripped off the cradle of my life
As I, an innocent baby feeding on the buxom bosoms of mother earth
Await a call from the convivial heavens, to levitate
To embrace a kingdom where freedom flows in tidal magnitudes
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Gaze
The eyes fixed at the night sky over yonder
Heart flutters the glimmer fonder
Moon smiles in full bloom
But the heart's a locked empty room
My eyes heel me tonight
I no longer strive to fight
Seasons of loneliness the craters of my heart
The craters of the moon heal me in concert
You beauty captures me Diana…..or are you Selene tonight
Only shine on me your healing light
Do you see me calling you
Or are your craters hurting you
Have you seen the worst of humanity in your nightly gazes
Or are you a giant in heart and soul that nothing fazes
Look down on me the dwarf beneath you
Or are there too many souls waiting for you in queue
This is my last call its time for the sheets
Look at me once so that I can rest my feet
A twinkle on your face you saw me from far
Did you hear me or did someone else put a request for me in your jar
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Last Kiss
I brought a wreath of mistletoe;
To you, a crimson red ribbon;
On the coiled evergreen;
To reignite the memories;
Of that Christmas day;
When we kissed;
Blindly, with our eyes closed.
When my eager lips locked on to yours;
In a moment of uncharted passion;
Our first and our last,
When you dazzled like an angel;
Even with a pale white skin and a white cap on;
In a virgin white gown that kissed your knee cap;
With a rouge that faintly slithered to your lips;
Your last bout of blood;
Rushing for a moment of spontaneous bliss;
As I firmly sat by you that night;
My angel under her sheets;
As her heart let go of my stubborn grip;
To fall in to an eternal slumber.
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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The Call of Africa (Ethiopia in the 80s)
In this direst of landscapes
Where rib cages impart photogenic smiles
Where visible skull bones outnumber curly locks
Where the vengeful Ra and the boundless Amun
Collaborate to evaporate life from this bleakest of land
As the gravity of footmarks etch journeys
On the jagged clay soil masking voracious graveyards
As maidens with pots on their temples
Scavenge the sweat of the earth to taste the wines of the land
Where goats graze in groups and militants raze in troupes
Where Injera bread is broken by bones varnished with flesh
Where there are no banquets nor feasts but sacrifices to the gods
As human flesh is feasted by famine and disease
A dismal civilization where mosquito bites ooze with pus
As flies outnumber the gravel of the earth
Yet, hope floats like a feather of a dove soaring to the heavens
For a Celtic intervention, that the white man with their deep pockets
Will metamorphose graveyards to granaries
That the call of Africa will reverberate to the consciences of man
For a crusade of the heart, a journey down the Nile
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Lighthouse
The ravaging winds, swirling and twirling;
Like a ballet dancer in perfect rotations;
Capturing my steadfast site of vision;
As I stare agape at the forceful thrusts of the wind gods;
As they cause havoc of the passing waves;
The ship tilting to and fro; top to bottom;
As the waves rap the flimsy deck boards;
As the thunder strikes the august mast;
That stands strong amidst the drifts and the currents, of the winds and water;
A catastrophe unfolding in the ravenous seas................
Then, from the forgotten corners of the rugged mountains;
An angel intervenes, to carry your ship to the eye of the storm;
A light from over yonder, over the cliffs, over the monumental tide;
Standing tall in her sun-parched white, holding her gaze on my path
As the ship rocks and drifts on the unforgiving seabed;
To a destiny that gazes at you with a stubborn heart;
Sometime, love discovers you in the turbulence of life;
When the winds are rampant and the oceans voracious;
Finally, the ship drifts ashore as you rush past the stuttering cliffs, to her
My lighthouse in her immovable gaze.
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Kite Runner
A kite flutters over yonder
On a perfect Azure-draped skyline
Akin to the gossamer wings of a frolicking butterfly
Carving its path, flapping like a renegade contraption
Blending in to unforeseen heights
Plummeting in to somersaults,
Tumbling and dipping in a haphazard trajectory
Cavorting on the playground of the Gods
All this, strung to a lonely piece of cord
Masterminded by a giant in heart's labor
A lonely kite runner holding the precious reel
Standing on one foot, harvesting an Epicurean ataraxia
The poise of a flamingo, yet the heart of a lion
With a smirk on his juvenile visage, a yellow hibiscus in full bloom
Holding the fate of his flying wonder, in his bare open palms
A miracle of biblical proportions, earmarked with a Houdini signature
Where the swindle of life by a boundless viral villain......
Wispier than a hummingbird feather, was overcome,
To master the rampaging waves in the story of his life
To conquer a handicap of Everestian proportions
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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A Canine Goddess
A canine goddess, yet colloquially a stray bitch from the streets,
Lying lifeless on a lofty corner of a wooden edifice
Masquerading as a makeshift barn
A selfless inn for the frolicking creatures
Where stacks of golden brown hay
Liberate the burgeoning heart for a circadian slumber
A lofty bed to feed the fledgling innocence of her ravenous puppies
A bequest of the Gods, as milky tides liberate themselves in passionate flows
Emanating from her shrouded succulence, her reclusive source
To dispense from luscious summits, tips of milky icebergs
As a procession of infant puppies screech and scramble
For a precious grip of her selfless hypertrophic teats
Oh what charity is bestowed by the kingdom of the beasts
The noblest of altruistic wealth, idyllically bestowed to juvenile lips
From the prelude of colostrum, to the flowing rhapsody of a snowy-white fugue
As milk erupts like a geyser, to inundate,
The gluttonous cavities of clambering puppies
Oh what a breathtaking mural a mother and her puppies bestow
Yet to the self-centered man…………..she is just another bitch proliferating in bliss!
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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