Pick of the week: Sanity

Twilight slowly creeps in

The sun sets beyond the horizon

Lovers stroll hand in hand.

Everybody hurrying up their pace

with expectations of the next day.

So weary their faces look

Not a slight smile to be seen

The city has become a hub of activity.

But there’s one

at the street corner

smiling with himself

laughing to himself

whispering to himself

With dishevelled hair

and a tangled beard.

Nobody bothers to look at him.

Neither does he

Not bothered about anybody

Not even about himself

Living in a world of his own

Hazy is his existence to himself too.

The world calls him insane

Yet he is unaware of his insanity.

thriving in a happiness of his own

Unaware of chaos everywhere

seems to dive in an escapist trance of his own.

Neither stress nor tension he knows

So relaxed he carries himself.

My conscience is not at peace

It tortures me with a question

Isn’t it the best way to live

in an utterly chaotic world such as this ?

- INDU GAMAGE

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Who am I to ignore?

If the stream is

shallower than the

River that winds,

Through the valleys.

If the river is

Much smaller than,

The ocean that roars,

To and fro the shore.

If my love for you,

Inexpressible, tounge tied,

How can it be an ocean

Lest a shallow stream...?

I nee to be the stream,

Which ends up in an ocean,

So my love too shall be,

Billows that endlessly roll.

If one can comprehend,

Love is fascinating as well as

Torture, always for lovers,

As long as world exists.

Kings, queens, paupers,

Poets, generals, despots,

Knelt down before love, so

Who am I to ignore love ...?

- RADHA RANJANI JAYAWARDENA

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Fascination

The gentle waft of the breeze caressing the ears

Whilst the eyes feast on the breathtaking beauty

of the cascading waterfall

God’s gift to nature and nature’s gift to man

The verdant grass plains outstretching

beyond imagination

Which engulfs the thoughts in a whirl of fascination

The twitter of the birds of many hues fluttering around

And the murmur of the low-lying brooks - that brooks no nonsense

The multi-coloured butterflies wandering aimlessly

The God-painted stunning varieties of flowers

Where rains cannot erase one iota of their eye-catching colours

(Bringing to an impermanent world some semblance of permanency)

All of them vying to refresh the mind

with immeasurable fascination!

- RIENZIE I. PERERA

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The quest for the World Cup

The cricketing world has been taken by storm

By the quest for the World Cup in the Indies West

Playing cricket with gusto from early morn

Fans wonder who will qualify as best.

A way of life, a passion or religion

Specially so in the populous Asian region

Fanatics and lunatics with their antics abound

Can success be always - and all year round?

Accomplished players testing wits and skills

Masters get beaten by their own pupils!

A great leveller the game of cricket has been

Whether it can master viles and villainy remains to be seen.

Rumours and scandals, and a murder most foul

What price was paid by Bob the innocent soul.

When Mammon worship begins everything could be fake

And honour, repute and probity burnt at the stake.

Lankan boys have done very well,

But not reached their full potential?

Despite googlies from quarters unexpected

Their morale is high and spirits undaunted.

A bowling action that is peculiar and unusual

Produced results that were undoubtedly phenomenal

Malinga etched his name in World Cup history

Let’s hope he retains over the bat, his mastery.

The Matara Mauler has not lost his vigour

In fact Sanath’s stature has grown even bigger!

A few more records he needs to break

A few opportunities only he has left to take!

In a few weeks time the fate of the Cup will be known

Bouquets or brickbats, who knows what will be thrown!

We fear no team, we ask no favour

Let the gentlemen, on or off the field, victory savour!

There being glorious uncertainties of the game

Whatever the result let it remain the gentlemen’s game!

When the one great scorer comes to score against your name

‘Win or lose’ does not matter but only how you played the game!

Lankans stand united in wishing our team

Good health and good luck against the cricketers’ cream

Let us hope that they will give of their best

And return to Sri Lanka riding cricket waves’ crest!

- DR. NANDA AMARASEKERA

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Death in whispers

Death never came in volumes

No in harsh words of departure

Or in the final goodbye of a lover

Death came in whispers

Death came in sweet words full of love

In eyes that looked so adoringly,

Eyes that spoke of love,

In the end left death as

The final words of departure,

Eyes that touched the very depth of the soul

In the end became just another memory

Now the memory of you feels like

The valley of death itself

And whenever I walk through that valley

My heart shivers in pain

- BERTHOLAMEUZE NISANSALA DHARAMASENA

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Perfection

The tower of Piza,

Stands with breathtaking beauty,

Reaching for the sky.

Mesmerising carved work,

And exquisite marble,

Adornes the masterpiece.

But the spectacular irregularity,

Takes away the perfection,

It’s crying for.

Sinking into the soft soil,

Leaning, never to stand straight.

Reminding that every man,

Holds a weakness,

Which takes away his perfection

- DINELI JAYASEKERA

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The haunting past

There was nothing more to say

He watched helplessly as

she walked away

Once again he was beaten in love

He feels lonelier now than before

His past has caught up with him

Someone, somewhere wants revenge

Prank calls, anonymous messages

They got what they wanted

She wants him no more

His saddened face, tear filled eyes,

broken heart

Does not stir her

She does not love him enough

To understand his confession

To forgive him for his beautiful child

Taken away by his lover

Across the seas with promises

to keep in touch

Years of waiting in hope

Years of sorrow and pain

He tried to move on

With his new found love

To share a future, denied to him

But they’ve all deserted him

There is no getting away

From the haunting past to the future

Without the emptiness

and pain of the present.

- DILRUKSHI PERERA

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1 9 7 7

The river,

That had been flowing gently

Till its dooms-day,

Was beautiful.

People drank from it,

Bathed and washed,

And irrigated acres of lands

As it brought pure water.

But now?

It is so violent with its torrents

Carrying muddy water with debris.

Beauty has been raped,

And the banks have been eroded

By all the gushing drains

With stinking filth,

That pollutes the olfactory sense.

No washing or bathing is possible,

Drinking from it is fatal.

Those who try to wade through

Are surely carried away -

No way of rescue.

- IVAN KIRIELLA

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Rainbow of hopes

I remember the rhythm of raindrops

When I found you

You made me dance

To the rhythm of your heart

Memories crowded to my mind

A strange romance

I don’t know why still I can’t

Forget the music of love we heard and shared

It still echoes throughout my mind

Shall we smile again amidst the falling

rhythm of rain drops?

As we did in the past

Cause it’s engraved in the stone of my heart

Sun will shine upon us tomorrow

As she did in the past

And will bring to our mind

Sweet moments that we spent with happiness

Full of laughter and warm with tenderness too

And will create new memories

That we will cherish forever

I love the way you guide me

Through seasons warm and cold

The way you brighten my life

With moments made of gold

And every time I have a doubt

You show the rainbow of hope

Through simple deeds

You paint my life with a

Beautifully different stroke

As we fondly remember

Our wonderful yesterday

We share the loveliest today

And then will happily

Plan for a happy future

May the love that brought us together

Shine through more brightly with each day

- JANADARI WIJESINGHE

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Obituary notices

Newspapers notice when you die.

Yesterday’s dead in one column lie.

- PATRICK JAYASURIYA