Lester James Peries

How some are called to be special, How one man picked what, Scripts to be immortalized in film, How what takes over the genius moment, Of scripted dialogue, sunlight intensifying Two people inside a quaint garden, Where a man shouts “shoot” And then “Cut”. How some, Straws are taller than the rest, Just like the…

Vesak 4

The drapery of monks Yellow, amber, orange, saffron, The many colors akin to a full chalice of light, The cynosure of a night, while stars look like They could use a little attention, while the moon lets Eyes be drawn towards her, Just like a visiting child in the temple, Looking at a bald child…

Vesak 3

The gratuity of a pandol, A spectacle in light, or a Dansal, Where they give ice cream, Or a whole meal. What has no price, No motive and no gain, As people flock, not just to fill their Famished tummies, also to be part of festivities, To be one with a celebration Of what is…

Vesak 2

The branches in foliar dressings, The bright yellow mangos, On a tree, that remained elusive To the passers by, while a little monk looks at the sky, As moonbeams fall on mangoes, Like lanterns on tips of branches, waiting To be plucked by hand, or pole, or perhaps, A greedy peck of a bird. How…

Vesak

How a candle made of wax, Is now a glass bulb, inside weather-proofed Vesak lanterns; While a monk carries A saffron colored umbrella, and walks To a temple, while the rain pummels, As a little child, places a paper boat On a mud puddle, waiting for nightfall, To see what marvels light can do. The…

Dengue Fever

In Aedes mosquitoes, That transcend their larvae, Is a virus that rests deadly in pathology.  Just an injection that traverses skin, And saliva that is injected through a tiny aperture, And a man, whose immunity Becomes a scapegoat, the antibodies that are supposed To save, scheme again him, as he lacerates pints of blood. The…

Pink Beasts

  Your eternal sand castle, The proposal on one knee,   The few seconds of awe, Which seemed like hesitation   Or surprise, or both. The babies you see, In her eyes, the baby making   That channels your vision, The obituary every orgasm has,   The epitaph on her face, The afterglow of pyrotechnics….

Things to be grateful for in April 2018

My wife, Oh gosh my wife, Who pacifies me in more ways than one, My words, the economy and the surfeit, The flow and the ebb, The undercurrents that make The rivers flow, just like lyrical words, Every American journal, That gives me an honest chance, with No prejudice, or neglect, For every poem that…

Joseph – Dad of Jesus

This poem is slightly controversial. Its on Joseph, Jesus’s foster father, who I admire a great deal. He was the reason Jesus became the man he is. Joseph is also my alma mater, the name of my school, where I studied for 12 years.   Joseph the carpenter, and Mother Mary,  A virgin carrying half…