What will it be my dear!

What will be it be my dear!
Before we venture into life long odyssey
In the uncharted seas of challenge

Will you be the Sitha
Who went through fire ordeal
To vindicate her steadfast fidelity

Will you be the faithful Paththini
Who burnt Madura to avenge
The killing of her faithless husband

Will you be the untamed shrew
Who had to be chastised
To exorcise her arrogance

Will you be Nakula’s mother
Whose heart and mind merged with her spouse
To live in conjugal bliss and domestic felicity

But I make it clear my dear!
You unbined your mind of the haunting
Apparition of the betrayed Kuveni

To night, dear, the enchanting moon
Is ravishing us with its silken beams
But hides from our gaze in a haze the bleak desolation

- G.H.A. SURAWEERA

The monitor

I saw the grotesque creature,
Lying placidly
On the recently trimmed grass
In our garden
In embarrassing oblivion
To the man-made reality
That it didn’t belong
In our garden
Or in our civilised world...

Its grey spotty skin
Which thorns or pricks can’t puncture
Or jagged stones
Cannot tear or graze..
And its sharp, serrated tail
Possessing tremendous strength
With which it whips away the approachers...

Form a safe distance
I stood watching it
With a long pole in my hand
With which I poked at it
Every now and then......

For all its ferocity
It lay passive patient and tranquil
Like a real gentleman
Never once resisting
My cowardly mean assaults..

Soon I gave up
My attempts to drive it away
Realising that
I was but a spiritless coward
Trying in vain
To bring down a mountain
With a fragile pole....

Before long
It crawled away
In magnanimous resignation
Leaving behind cruel cravens like me
A silent lesson of patience!

JAYASHANTHA JAYAWARDHANA

Self-satisfaction

We are the troops, march on to fight
To save our country, unborn to live
Outspread war against the separatist
Use the knack, get self-satisfaction

Rummage our mind, nonstop ambush
fire the arms, approach to target
Destroy the society, armed, or unarmed, vanish’
Use the knack, get self-satisfaction

Thoppigala rock named Baron’s Cap
No trepidation, not a coward,
Who says it’s a storm in a tea cup
Use the knack, get self-satisfaction

S. HETTIGE

True Romance

The weirdest proposition that,
I have faced,
Only your serene eyes,
Want to be with you,
Because,
You give me expectation and,
turn me on with your love,
Forever
That’s why
I love you.

Damith Iroash

The cruelty

A garbage heap, an assortment rotten
Stale rice, beef and mutton
A discarded dog, driven and beaten,
Pushes its snout, for it had not eaten.

A few grimy strands that sprout
Amidst the wounds from which blood spout
Betray a once furry coat
It wore, without a speck of mote.

A crow alights to peck the gore
It turns and defends; drives away the crow
And once again it resumes its chore
To be bored by the crow once more.

Far better days it might have seen
On laps of ladies, clean and preen
The floor it walked would have been
Marbled, waxed, polished and clean.

T.M.S. NANAYAKKARA

Capital “R”ed Rock

The rock should be reduced
To some insignificant dust.
It’s indeed a must
If Sri Lanka must have rest.
To dust must come rock
For the whole world to mock
And driven to its flock.
So, rock must take stock
Of the soured situation
Of its own creation
Before its ignominious degeneration
Damaging even its country’s reputation.

People often play dirty games.
True to their blessed names.

N.M.L.M. HALEEL

Ode to the mother

Sky is cloudy
Sun is half closed
Sullen atmosphere
Arises my vast lament
How can I see you,
Touch you or even enfold.
I feel very lonely
Because,
You are not beside me
Faraway from the pearl of Indian ocean
The day of your departure
Still haunting in my mind
Due to economic reasons
You had to go there
I have heard
The plight of women in Arabian deserts’
But... nothing to do
I am too small to earn
Mum... I miss you so much.
There is no words to express
The value of your precious love.
Because,
Maternal love is the
Highest love in the world
I need to hear you
Hear your lovely voice very soon
Ode to the mother
How are you today.....?
Here is a request
Give up everything
Come back to my life soon
As, I can not live without you
And your magnificent love

H.M. VIRAJINI WATHSALA

Pick of the week:

Living with the Jones’

I know you own a pure white swan,
Now I must own a black,
You live in ground floor splendour,
I’ll build a storied ‘shack’!

You grow the rarest orchids,
So “ill have hot house plants,
You won a three year scholarship,
And I a five year grant!

You own a jet black Cadillac,
I’ll drive a Rolls of gold,
Your’e always at the 80 Club,
I’ll join the Ob’roi’s fold!

You own a brown delft pony,
I’ll buy a chestnut foal,
I’m living with the Jones’
Tho’ it takes but all I own!

VERNA L. DE SILVA

Whose Who ....

Sinister hanger-on at street corners,
Shameless holder-up of vacant door posts,
Wily pub-crawler at others’ expense, always,
Vicious mud-slinger cum odious satyr;
And, furtive voyeur alias Peeping Tom,
Oh! Accursed anathema, whose who are you?

JAYAWEERA D. GUNARATNE

My wish ....

I wanted her touch
But couldn’t feel it
I reach out to her
But couldn’t find her hand.
I wanted to hear her calling,
But couldn’t her voice.
I wanted to see hear smile,
But couldn’t see her face.
I wanted her to cuddle me,
But couldn’t find her warmth anywhere,
I listened to her song,
But couldn’t find her or see her.
I truly wish that maybe I see her,
In my dream tonight

MIHIRI KUMARASINGHE

Send in your poems to Daily News Poetry

No.35, D.R. Wijewardene Mawatha, Colombo - 10.

E-mail: [email protected]

Dear readers and poets,

As a tribute to your poetic endeavours and to coincide with the literary month, the Daily News will launch a poetry anthology containing selected poems published in the Daily News Poetry. Await more details in the coming weeks.