Yellow
The sun gazes from afar;
An hour to a picture-perfect horizon;
As the rays scatter to the humid spheres;
Stuttering and pacing, to accommodate the evaporating droplets.
The sunbeams know their ultimate destiny,
Like a fortuneteller in front of a decorated palm;
To land on her mustard yellow sundress, her mystical yellow peau;
As she plays among the yellow tulips;
A vivacious lass in a breathtaking landscape;
As the sunbeams bathe her eager visage.
Then the winds gather speed;
As the sundress blows in the wind;
She sans a care in the world, letting the hemlines rise to the heavens;
As her gauzy embroidery catches the gaze of the passing orioles;
As they rock and float in the gathering wind;
Delicate creatures competing with the fluttering butterflies;
For the nectar of the buttercups.
As the marigolds and sunflowers bloom in full,
Magnetized to the passing Ra;
Then her prince joins her, as they land a passionate lip lock;
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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My Cueen
In my crusade in the callus sands;
Coasting in the desserts of Africa
Below the crystal coating of Casablanca;
I came across an oasis;
In the center of Chad
A dwindling lake;
Cancer of the cells;
Blood that is......
Carnivorous, cultured, cultivated;
In her creaky corps;
In her caliphate;
On the curvy shores of Lake Chad;
Lay my curvy 'chantress;
My queen, my cueen;
My charming caliph;
There she lies my sylph my cylph;
Her creamy colored cuticle;
Touching the crux;
Of my tachy'cardic center.
My nu'cleus in cacophony;
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Eternity
My lips caress your unblemished front
Shrouding your oceans of intelligence
I descend to your lines of
Perfect symmetry
Enchanting in their movements
A pair of waves in their ever-dazzling flow
Rich in emotion
In exuberance…..
Even in melancholy……
And the infinity of possibilities in between
My eyes are locked in an eternal gaze
As my lips slowly move to graze
The contours of your gateways to the world
The doorways to an infinity of love, of empathy, of kindness, of honesty
That very few ever feel
But I do……., I do my love
I am captivated by your superabundance of raw emotion
My lips feel your generosity……I can taste your conscience
I reach down to embrace the zenith of your oasis
I feel you exhale…….
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Autumn
As the warm summer stubbornly begins to cease
As winds of change tantalizingly stream to tease
As the leaves metamorphose to a spectrum of color
The skies gradually loose their summer valor
As the folk reap the harvests dancing in the autumn tones
Gleaners stealthily scrap for paltry nature's loans
As the Angelus is recited with a sense of a bestowed providence
The haystacks mushroom to a seasonal superabundance
Millet captured the season through the eyes of poverty
Constable captured the season in a hay wain's prosperity
Monet captured the remnant life in stubborn stacks of hay
As the many colors of autumn were captured for an eternity's stay
As the leaves unhinge from their branch's grip
Free falling with a gentle push from the branch's tip
Like aimless parachutes gravitating to Gaia's earthly call
The leaves carve their path to floor the earthly ball
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Come To My WIndow
Climbing the stairs to the window sitter
With brown eyes that twinkle and glitter
Louder than the shimmering moon over yonder
Gazing at her, for the heart is fonder
My dear princess, Rumpelstiltskin
With a golden locks that spring
From your crowning glittering nest
Golden twigs that fall off in zest
With an Alice band that pulls the locks
As your shadow falls over across
The moon smiles at the glimmering beauty
As the stars in a jealous rage seek mutiny
For an earthly star that glitters like gold
Springing light in to the galaxy's fold
You gaze with your luminescent getaways
At the vast oceans of space in our own milky way
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Selene
The moon smiling close to my nucleus
As the moonbeams fall on to my falling tears
Selene, the soul witness, of my harrowing hell
As Geetha left me, my heart sorrowfully fell
She was a goddess on earth, with a soft inner core
As my heart every second would earnestly implore
For a gentle snuggle or a passionate clasp
Alas, it was her kiss of death that choked me, she a gangly asp
She the serpent that slithered past my thicket
To the arms of another to a fence in white picket
To greener pastures from my evergreen forest
As the boat rocked, my life amidst a tempest
The storms were dire, in my vessel of solitude
As the boat rocked to the extremes of longitude
No lighthouse in my path, no path forward
No light on my life, rocking and turning in winward
Selene still with me, as she looks at my soulful self
As I carry the blues waiting for a Samaritan's help
Inhaling the nicotine, even the tar
Gazing at Selene, every twilight, even from afar
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Cancer of the Laboring Heart
Deep within the chambers of my frantic tachycardic nucleus
Lies a shrouded growth, dividing and multiplying
A renegade clump of cells, a copious cancer of the hurting heart
Carrying forth a patchwork architecture of your yesteryear
Where all memories stream to their source, to you my love
When your mystical visage softly settled on mine
As our lips converged, to embrace the zeniths of an apical love
As our dewy lips, transfigured to craters of passion, oozing with molten lava
As my body incinerated to the resonating fervor of your apical bonfires, your luminescent hearth
Alas now, my lonely heart decays in dismal waves of subjugation
As the warrior in me stutters, etched by the blades of your pirouetting memories
As a knight disheveled of armor, of glory, is setting foot on a lopsided battlefield
As a million traitors were sipping the wine of the body
Seated on thrones of crumbling ventricles and choking atria
Engulfed in to boundless cycles of multiplying bliss
As doorways were absented by the guards of cellular sanity
As now, I stare at a vague flickering light at the end of the tunnel
Embarking on a journey of recuperation, of precious love regained
A Miltonian sequel to evaporate my waves of melancholy in my sea of solitude
For a lass with a heart of a feather, to levitate me back to the precious arms of life
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Nostalgia of Saxophone Blues
A saxophonist on a lonely bar, playing the urban blues
Melodies that resonates the solitude, of this bed of civilization
A tapestry of brick, woven together by the mortar of dreams
Where a legacy of the soil was abandoned
For the rancid flavor of an earthly opulence
Collectors with deep pockets yet shallow temples
Fleeting paper levitating ephemeral dreams
Dipped in the ink of the forefathers of the land
Larger than life figures dwarfed in to paper surfaces
To venerate an ethereal faith, multiplying within brick shrines
Hedonistic soldiers, in a crusade for a tangible Shangri-La
Utopia of fortified castles and backyard swimming pools
As hallucinating agents are inhaled by the gullible minds
Mutant psyches prospering in these overwhelming fogs of napalm
Pilgrims parting their birth-rite to the earthly rite of tangible wealth
In this smorgasbord of intemperance, lavish buffets of temptation
Yet, the heart yearns for the profoundness of fraternity
An eerie loneliness transcending arctic winters, hibernating souls
Valiant for the recapture of their birth rite
The fluidity of village conversations, the resonance of rural brotherhood
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Umbilical Cord
It was a beautiful night;
The moon in perfect symmetry;
Bare naked;
With the craters smiling;
In a rabbit's shadow;
As if to waken the spirits;
Of a lonely figure;
Crouched in to a corner;
where two crumbling walls meet the dust-laden floor boards;
Stark naked, except for the erect follicles;
That danced in the serene wind;
She had waltzed back to her umbilical cord;
To the protection of the uterine walls.
She knew she had seen the last of her prince;
Who initially strolled in, in shining armor,
But wandered off to glorious pastures;
Leaving her in the doldrums, of seasons of loneliness,
Spring leading to summer and autumn to winter
Every night crouching in to her dead mother's protection;
Slumping in to routines of insanity;
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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An Apology
To an isle where people stutter and rally
No doves over here nor any sign of an ally
No picket fences, just rings of barbed wire
In the middle of nowhere, I call Nomans-shire
Devoid of touch, the heart gathers dust
As the psyche welcomes the skeletons as blossoms the rust
The body aching from the pain of no tomorrow
As the hibernation maroons the heart in sorrow
An isle that no man willingly wants
An islet where there are no cries or chants
Only silent cries of freedom from the forsaken lips
Only the jibes of a few friendly quips
To shoot the breeze as the habit grows
As the smoke discolors the lips outdoors
As the panic sets sometimes, the heart in a fit
As the queue's gather for a sit on a pit
Waiting for a tomorrow a barrister's touch
From the melting lives in their daily fudge
Freedom, sweet, golden, a lavish desire
At every sight of a tie and a coat, a lawyer in attire
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poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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