Ode to erased graffiti
(on Sigiriya)

Scattered archaeology:
tell me of heroic times,
tell me of battles and surrender,
the meeting of version
and tapestries that resulted.
Relate your War and Peace,
the matters of the state,
the governance of humours,
the reconciliation with frailties.
Architect, engineer, interior-decorator:
awake from the sleep of brick and mortar,
correct the flaws of transcription.
Brick-layer, etcher of fantasy, water-giver,
you most of all:
rise from the resurrection of madman and saint,
gather from dust and paint
the traces of footprint and obliteration,
and narrate in your choice of metaphor,
the meta-narratives of labour,
the sweat that didn't get told,
the wavering signature of heartache,
and where they paused to rest
in the gardens of paradise.
Tell me also, in song or silence,
In whisper or shout,
the terms of compensation,
the occupational hazards,
the loves of the depicter of beauty,
the irrelevancies so decreed
the texture of cooked incompatibilities,
the hiding place at wilting
of the flower-bringer's fragrance,
the questions never asked
contestations never articulated,
the story of submission and resistance,
those little pieces of meaning made meaningless.
Colossus,
artifact and monumental cultural objectification,
this is an incomplete petition
and poorly written
in the broken English that I know.
But list for me now
the names of all those things born of your womb:
the irreverent progeny edited out by historian,
the defiant woman who did not apply for a colour-line version,
the unhappy prince who could not purchase loyalty or love,
the supplier of pigment whose contract was terminated.
Record for me the things
that perhaps by-passed the passer-by
the regent of many coronations
and indeed his many political biographers,
for there's a broken heart whose million pieces lament,
whose sorrows gurgle incoherence
in subterranean banishment,
a sad, scattered piece of flesh and longing
that awaits breath
for breathing and resurrection. Malinda Seneviratne

Shocked by the wanton destruction of some of the graffiti, the poet codified his profound grief in the form of an Ode. In this narrative poem, he personifies 'Scattered Archaeology' demanding that it should reveal the glorious legacy of king Kassapa who built the citadel of Sigiriya. The poet uses simple but powerful diction in conveying his feeling to the readers. -Indeewara Thilakarathne

The Great Renunciation

Night was gleamed with the full moon
Princess Yasodhara on her bed
Beside the child.
Both are deep in sleep
Dreams of happiness made Yasodhara blissful
As she has got an angel baby
From that great person of
Prince Siddhartha.

Great prince Siddhartha
Kept a look at his new born cherub
and his gracious wife
Yasodhara.
They were the most precious gifts of
His life,
He thought for a moment.

Next time as he thought again
The old man,the sick man,the dead man
Beside the new born
Cherub.

The child is to fatherless
Wife is to husbandless
Life is to endless
If he remains this reality endless.

The world is helpless
Separation is never less
Prince was speechless
Bid them farewell
To welcome us all
To farewell this,
Samsara suffering. W.P.N.C Hapangala

This is a poem depicting the renunciation of worldly life by prince Siddhartha. In the first part of the poem, the poet graphically describes how Princess Yasodhara sleeps with her new born son Rahula. However, at the end the poet stresses that the separation is the first step towards ending the sufferings of birth and death or Samsara. -Indeewara

Second Chances...

To give or not to give
a second chance
is the question
Sometimes sweet memories
get stirred up
with dark clouds
and we try to push away
from everything

Yet the memories of the past
never die
no matter how rusted
it all looks
we'd always wish to see
the shine that it used to have

This is when we are left
with the choice to give
a second chance
to somebody, some day
and even be willing
to hide the darkest memories
with the longingness
to feel the joy
of a past sweet memory

Yet the fear of betrayal
clouds our mind
from time to time
but the hope of light
stirs up strongly
wanting to feel the warmth
of pleasant memories,
a new beginning...

Sachitha I.P. Gunawardena

In this poem, the poet portrays the disturbed state of mind of a girl who is about to give a second chance to a lover. The situation is extremely tense as happy memories are fused with dark clouds of separation. It is a difficult decision in life for both partners. It is a close contest between the fear of betrayal and flicker of light. The poet skilfully draws the mind picture of once lovers about to enter into another contract of life. -Indeewara