The dire landscape of a no man’s land
Where the macaques make busy jumps
From tree to tree. Palmyra grow
Like pillars with canopy. An intersection
Of ethnicities, where a little excavation
Will unfold bones pealed of flesh.
War is just a cannibal; it is famished
Of loathe and bites the very flesh that searches for a banquet
Of corpses. The hyenas have no pride
Nor does the vulture. Nor does a history
That counts absent heartbeats
On excavation sites. Time is only a victim
Of acrimony, of the sheer parsimony
Of love. Still they make Palmyra jaggery
And paint their faces with brown moons
Which turn to a cold indifferent blue
Like cyanide painted tongues.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Published by Curiosity-driven life (Dilantha Gunawardana)
Dr Dilantha Gunawardana graduated from the University of Melbourne, as a molecular biologist, and moonlights as a poet. He currently serves as a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Botany, University of Sri Jayewardenepura. Dilantha lives in a chimeric universe of science and poetry. Dilantha’s poems have been accepted for publication /published in HeartWood Literary Magazine, Canary Literary Magazine, Boston Accent, Forage, Kitaab, Eastlit, American Journal of Poetry, Zingara Poetry Review, The Wagon and Ravens Perch, among others. Dilantha too has two anthologies of poetry, 'Kite Dreams' (2016) and 'Driftwood' (2017), both brought to the readership by Sarasavi Publishers, and is working on his third poetry collection (The Many Constellations of Home). Dilantha’s pet areas of teaching and research, include, Nitrogen Fixation, RNA biology, Phytoremediation, Agricultural Biology, and Bioethics & Biosafety. Dilantha blogs at – https://meandererworld.wordpress.com/ -, where he has nearly 2000 poems.
View all posts by Curiosity-driven life (Dilantha Gunawardana)
