Love

If you give me tear
I'll give you a smile
If you let me down
I'll lend you up......

If you do me a wrong
I'll make it right
If you wait for me for a moment
I'll be waiting my whole life for you.........

Oh my dear......
Through the wind
Your smell blows through to me.....
Through the clouds
Your words fly to me.......

Through the stars in the night
Your eyes talk to me.............
Through the scarlet blood of mine
Your love runs to me......... Nimesha Ruchirani Peiris

In this poem, the poet illustrates sacrificial element in love. It seems that the feeling of love is so strong that it runs through the blood vessels. The poet imagines as if eyes of the lover talk through the stars in the night. The poet effectively uses techniques such as hyperbole to express the sheer intensity of love. The poem is marked for its brevity of expression. -Indeewara Thilakarathne

Perfect love ...

When the sun is veiled by clouds
And the evening glow bathes our window pane
In glorious hues of pink and gold
When naught stirs in the trees; no wind or gentle breeze
We sit and contemplate together; how lucky to have loved and won
How blessed to have found each other

Come fly with me over distant valleys, sweeping deserts; through glowing skies
Hold my hand and draw me close, as we soar high among the stars
We shall walk through life together
You and I were meant to be; first love, true for eternity

Shooting stars for granting wishes
Rainbow arcs, walks in parks; sweet whispers and butterfly kisses
Raindrops on glistening streets, umbrellas to snuggle beneath
Escapades to far off lands, ice cream cones and magical dreams
Stolen moments, timeless memories, perfect love . . . . Su Ruth

Recalling a dead past

Thousand miles across the mute Indian Sea
a man recalls a dead past
giving life to a stranger
who doesn't exist with him
in a dark remote village in Sri Lanka.
The treasured memories of the man
awaken a past of a stranger
who is now an outsider,
but always been a spirit in that village
travelling thousand miles westwards nostalgically
looking at his own dead past walking and talking ...
but, he still haunts the village with awe and pride
giving meaning to his life that is now like a nebulae
having clustered the flow of fragments of the past
seeing them growing into a pearl of memoriesa
All that had shaped the life of the starnger.

Beyond the Mute occean
is his Isle of Memories
revisiting silently accumilating past
draping the branches of trees
that had witnessed the hardships
whence continuous flow of water falls
in form of tears reverberating the heart
making it an eternal cry in stragers absence
without knowing
that every night
a distant staranger
visiting the living and the dead
with the movement of the Southern Cross
when million stars walking with him
diminishing the loneliness,
into his old village of love
that tresures the sighs of youth
recalling the denial
of the romance of first love
when every night is dead silent
reflecting his journey's end
leaving life in memories, with eternity

Sisira Govinnage, Melbourne, Australia

The light that shone...

When you were a toddler,
I still could remember
One fine day, in your cot,
Stood to say,
Amma, ('Mata Una'), I have fever
It was true, I abruptly called the doctor.

On that fateful day, you never told,
We never thought, at this prime age,
You will depart us so hurriedly

The light that shone in my heart and soul
Will diminish for ever,
My darling son your last moment
Etched in my heart for ever.

How on earth a mother who cradled with lullaby,
Would carry your urn,
How unlucky, what a grave sin have I done.

It reminds me "Macaulay's words
Till God who saw me tired,
Too, sorely, gave resting place,
I asked an early grave." - Wimala Somaratne

The poet grieves over her son's death. The poem is full of pathos and it creates a word picture of a mother who carries the ashes of her son. - RS

Midnight Reverie

The howl of the jackals
Long drawn and pathetic
Made the night air quiver
Haputale at midnight
Lying in our tents
Peeping at the inky blue
A few stars shimmer and shiver
No reply to the jackals or the stars
Except my own grief
Which lies mute

How can one erase
Joy turned into anguish
Injustices signed and sealed
The writing on the wall
Chaos and upheaval of life?

Eastward I scan
Thro the tent flap
Dawn is yet too far
But dimly I see
A shy moon climbing thro'
Scanty leaves of silver birch
Once more the howling
Stark primordial nature erupting
A cry sent upwards
The silver birch stands
Sentinel and unheeding
Bathed in ethereal light - Shireen Senadhira

**********

In this poem, the poet skillfully portrays a magnificent view of Haputale at night. Whilst in the tent, she hears the howls of the jackals and peeps into the inky blue sky. Inky blue sky in the night is like a canopy of dark blue sheet over the environs in the hill country of Haputale. The sky is almost dark but for few stars.

However, she cannot forget the woes of the life despite the magnificent scene of midnight. It is yet in the midnight and poet watches the rather 'shy moon' emerges through the 'scantly leaves of the silver birch'. Though now, hears the howls of jackals again, there is Silver birch sentinels, bathing in 'ethereal light'. The poet is at best describing the never ending wonder of nature. The poet is marked for the use of apt adjectives such as 'inky blue sky' and 'a shy moon' which make it a universal experience. The poet has used a simple diction interspersed with extremely beautiful adjectives. -Indeewara

I've lost myself

Luscious greenery, aquamarine waters
That I dreamt of
Here infront of me
Yet only the snow engulfing me
I witness
Paralyzing, making me numb to the core

An eternal winter cast on me
Not even a glance at me
with their arrogant eyes
A worthless scrap in the white eyes
Their glances
sucking the essence out of me

Roots lost
Just a wandering being
Frowned upon with disgust
An unfathomably massive contrast : White and the Other
Brownness - the superficial layer covering me

Setting foot in native soil
with a sigh of relief
I walk with pride
My own land, my own people, a true sense of belonging
Even the breeze so cooling

Staring in wonderment, awe-stricken
Nobody dares to share a word
Flowers of hope wither in me
Shunned of companionship
The soul is torn apart
A child banished by his own mother too

Roots denied everywhere
Here nor there
My being laments of lost identity.

Where do I belong? - Indu Gamage

**********

The poet is writing about the identity and belonging in a globalised milieu. The poet faces the harsh reality of expatriate life. Although the once dreams are now before the very eyes, there is only 'the snow' that envelops the poet. The poet is lost among the new landscapes as if 'eternal winter' cast upon. The poet, who lost roots, has now become a 'wondering being'. But the situation becomes worse when the poet returns to the motherland, there is no 'companionship' and 'roots denied'. To the sheer horror, poet discovers that she belongs to nowhere; neither here nor there. This is the agonising reality of Diasporic life.

The life in diaspora is marked with loss of identity and inheritance which is one of the reasons that different ethnicities have made ethnic enclaves for themselves in their adapted soil without being integrating into the society. A snobbish attitude on the part of the people has also contributed to this situation. The poet has depicted this quandary in evocative lines.

-Indeewara Thilakarathne