Perth Storm

The heaven opened up,
It rained and hailed
Covering my Perth village, Down Under!

Out in the yards the hail storm swarmed
Dancing against the roofs and window panes
Beating the dry world lasted for months
Freezing Perth summer heat.

The heaven opened up,
It rained and hailed covering my village.
The storm danced like a devil coming from up
Robbing the beauty of my village.

The heaven opened up,
It rained and hailed covering my village.

The storm sculptured on roads, cars and buildings,
Pouring arrows of twists
Robbing the beauty of my village
Like a thief running away
With tressures from our homes.

Flow of air bent corners
Fluttering the land
Flushing white fever of tempest
Plunging away the treasures of my village
Leaving behind scars in our hearts

- Sunil GOVINNAGE

In this poem, the Perth based poet attempts to recreate the extent of damage due to a storm that swept across the City of Perth and adjacent areas on 22 March.

The poet portrays the destruction and the damage caused utilizing simple but unique images and metaphors comparing the natural phenomenon to a thief who robbed his City which he represents as his village Down Under!

- Indeewara

I never knew the moon

I never knew the moon was so far
Nor did the stars loved the moon,
I never knew the moon could shine in day,
Yet I challenge them for my love to moon.

I never knew the moon could show me
The romance of the dark night,
I never knew the moon couldn't see me
When his loving star was beside him

Above all, one star stole the heart
Of the moon I was praying for,
She stole it when I flew harder for it...
You are my crescent moon,
and she's YOUR glistening star,
In your own dream dark night

Tharanga M.

The poet describes a lost love. A star stalls the heart of the moon but another one has stalled the star leaving the moon in isolation. For the girl, the lover is still like a crescent moon but for him, 'she' is like a glistening star.

The poet skilfully weaves the story around the moon which has been used to convey different emotions and to represent diverse persons. The poem is marked for its brevity and the use of metaphors.

- Indeewara

Preamble to the narrative of illusion

Pulses from other realities
other contortions
juxtapositions of dream and steel,
soft pink streaked with violence,
how could they not produce illusion,
how could they not provoke error?
Yes, in that erroneous capture
that unaccustomed arrival,
the heart, having waited so long
forgot caress,
and blind to that temperate mix of colour
stepped forward and seized,
yes, in the name of love.
You did not arrive and neither did you keep away,
you arrived not as yourself,
but as your illusion.
And faint recollection
that relic of the pera esura,
remnant of a togetherness
pernicious artifact designed to deceive
came and played in the field of uncertainty.
Lied.
And the eager heart,
ebullient in the sudden discovery of immortality,
could not stop dancing.
The blood flowed
all over paper
all over sensibilities
the poetry of that anguish I splashed -
on trees, on street corners,
hung it all on clothes lines,
telegraph wires and heart strings,
as would a mad painter
unable to decipher heart from colour,
love from hue.
Yes, with ignorance.
Such was the power of anticipating you.
And to these lines,
written in a time capsule
escaped from its designated constellation
I return again,
without embarrassment;
for error has been the dagger that carved sorrow upon my heart
But I knew that in the mad confusion
of love and teardrop,
colour and heartache,
you will step out of all illusion
and offer me a soft embrace.
And so I offer these sketchings
of my chimerical play
narration of lost pathways,
not because they record a lie;
but because they speak of another beauty
in its becoming,
its transcendence
and innocence.

Malinda SENEVIRATNE

In this poem, the poet eloquently expresses the love in its myriad forms and sheer beauty of anticipation of a lover.

At times, that anticipation is illusory and the heartache of separation is unbearable. But all of a sudden, love emerges out of illusion. Here the poet spells out the chemical play on the part of the lover which is amply manifested in the first part of the poem.

The poem has used metaphors upon metaphors to recreate the rebellion of emotions in the mind of the narrator. The title of the poem is apt and the poet uses matter-of-fact diction in dealing with the theme.

- Indeewara Thilakarathne

The red catalogue of the word sunset

A French poet sees the sun turning red
and presses the colour of wine from cloudgrapes.
An English poet compares it to a rose
and the Hebrew to blood.
Oh my country, a land sinking cannibal lips in the sunset's
virginal neck
the oars of fear are sewn to the length of my arms
and I, in the ark of my life, row like Noah
towards Ararat.

Ronny Someck
Translated by VIVIAN EDEN

Here the poet describes in a few lines what the sunset means to diverse peoples of the world and the gamut of emotions that it generates.

For a French poet, the sunset is sun turning red and pressing the colour of wine from cloud-grapes. For an English poet it is like a rose. But it is blood for Israeli poet. He would row his ark of life towards Mount Ararat where Noah rests his ark.

-Indeewara

Selfish morning

Can you please help me do this sum?
The little brother in grade three
Pleads with his elder sister
Scared of his teacher's shouts
Why didn't you do this last night?
I really can't help you right now
I got to press my clothes, plait my hair
And help mama to pack
Your breakfast and mine
No one can give a second for the little one
It's a SELFISH morning

Can you please help me do this sum?
The little one goes to dada this time
He can imagine the angry look
When teacher sees the blank sums
Oh, no, I am so much busy
I got to shave, then have a wash
Run to the bakers and buy the bread
If I am not back by six
Your mum will be in a fix
No one can give a second for the little one
It's a SELFISH morning

Can you please help me do this sum?
The little one begs the elder brother now
He cannot forget the laughter in class
When teacher says we have a loser in class
Oh, no, I can't help you now
I got to do my pushups now
If I don't do it everyday
My coach will say I am lazy one
And kick me out of the team in no time
No one can give a second for the little one
It's a SELFISH morning

Can you please help me do this sum?
The little one turns to the domestic help
Knowing she cannot read or write
But who is there to see his plight
Add thirty and ten and tell me the sum
If you too can't, then I am done
Mum is cooking and everyone so busy
Little one has no help
Except self pity
No one can give a second for the little one
It's a SELFISH morning

Dr (Mrs). Sujeewa Gunaratne

The poet describes the rat race of life which spares not a second for another. Here is the little one who could not get anyone's help in solving the sum. All are left to themselves and are occupied with their set-menu of chores.

The poet attributes this selfishness on the part of men and women to 'Selfish morning'. In busy lives, entire days, months and weekends are all 'SELFISH'. The poet uses down-to-earth language and incidents of a busy morning to illustrate the point. The little ones are the meek and the weak or vulnerable segments of the population.

- Indeewara