Two Poems in “Write” magazine

Two of my poems, appear in the latest “Write” magazine, a Sri Lankan publication, available at Barefoot, Sarasavi Bookstore and Sooriya Village. The titles of the poem are, The Three Wheeler (Tuk-tuk) South of Elephant Pass

Good Friday

How one man, who can be, Only defined by one Latin word – Caritas, Chose to be nailed to a cross  To save a species, whose wisdom Stood second to sin. In this moment in history, We remember the most selfless act in a long history Of mankind. How a 33 year old man, saved…

The Prostitute At Kotahena and an Orange Barley Bottle

She knew a thing or two About hospitality, Sri Lankan style. She gave me a glass of Orange Barley,  From the fridge that lay across the room, And told me that anything was possible, Like the loneliest hour that gets, Crowded by cold palms and colder lips. How the cold grip of a prostitute, Breaks…

Redhead

How beautiful to blaze away, Like an amber flame, That dances in the crazy wind,  And bundles to an elastic hair band, After a morning shower. How every thread-like leaf, Carelessly frolics in the daylight hours, Each a sculpture in blazing red. And sunburnt and rain-spoiled, they stand, Like the red tiles, on an angled…

Water (On International Water Day)

Sometimes gold is found In the transparent form. The lake, The river, the aquifer, the well,  All places for prospecting for That precious element, water. How life will always be, The water bodies that we preserve, And the exobiological quests, We launch, to find the residue, Of extant water, hidden deep beneath The mantle of…

A Poem in Zingara Poetry Review

One of my poems, appears as the poem-of-the-week, in an American Poetry Journal/Website. Please take a peak if you have time, and if you like it, leave your comments or votes. “Mirror Image” by Dilantha Gunawardana

Ireland – St Patrick’s Day and Beyond

  I see strapping Irish men, with beer mugs In their firmly held fists, dancing By the river Liffey, telling anecdotes on How they are different from the rest of the world. How the Talus bone was made for river dancing, Tapping away, hitting their heels on the firm earth, And how their four-lobed liver…

Surviving Breast Cancer

I look at the flamingos, Going from one limb to two wings. I look at a woman, my wife, whose mastectomy Made her go from two to one breast, While her hospital gown had a little pink ribbon on it, That broadcasted a stark reality, That used to swell out from her chest. And I…

How I Became A Poet

  Back in 2009, I stood inside my home, no longer Holding a brilliant job, Humbled by the sheer mastery Of how fate can work magic against you. And from inside my well, I drew a bucketful Of an ingredient, not found in my bucket list. It was just an arrangement of words That loomed…