Two Poems of mine on the theme of the environment and environmental conservation appear in the Jan 2018 edition of American Journal of Poetry. Please take a read, if you like poetry, or if you’re an activist or voice for environmental conservation. http://www.theamericanjournalofpoetry.com/v4-gunawardana.html Hope 2018 will bring you abundant joy, riches of the heart, and…
Month: December 2017
American Woman
She symbolizes all things worth fighting for. A woman whose instinct is to love, the durable way, Searching for her port of calling. She bares her midriff, inviting navel kisses, And struts her generous thighs, opening doors To her own secret wonderland. She tangos With the wind, holding her poise like A flamingo on one…
Two Poems on Boxing Day
Boxing Day 1 The day you find out, How nagging a full tummy is, Filled with all sorts of Christmas goodies, Meats, puddings and Christmas cake. And your only solace, is your boxer shorts. How freeing it can be, To unbuckle the leather belt And live larger than you normally would, In a pair of…
Letter to America
Did you see the towering black man Who carried the infant with the finesse and precision, Of a surgeon’s hands? Did you see the love In his face, beaming like a lighthouse, Calling forth the lost ships, To have faith in him, his shining face, That has only, the charity of a smile, To give…
The Christmas Table
While the turkey’s breast is carved open To welcome white flesh, we remember, The virgin’s breast that was squeezed open By an infant, where too, it was all white, As white as the snowdrops that sneak out of the snow To mark the beginning of spring. While the cranberry sauce eagerly awaits, Like a harbinger,…
Christmas in Canberra
That tree, from under your bed, Fixed into a spine of pine, that is embellished With glitter and glamour, And on top, you find a tailed star, That holds her place, like the full moon, A compass to the magi, who conquered the dunes, And in this small town, Near the outback, you find, Christmas…
Christmas Gift
The parsimony of gifts, is like The cheapest your gut tells you to go, When in the absence of a queasy feeling, That nagging crawl of the gut, Telling you that the price is almost right, And still, when you look at the transaction again, There is that glimmering wrong staring at you, Of how…
A Christmas Poem
We live in a world, where shoulders crash To caress safety havens, the quenched Feel of brother or sister, in that moment You feel gravity escaping you. And still, we live for the goodness of others, The Jesus syndrome that you find in rare places Forming local infections, that twinkle Like a star on the…