A poem of mine, that was accepted months ago. Its on NY. There is an error in spelling though (ate should be are). This journal is based in the state of West Virginia. http://www.heartwoodlitmag.com/spaceman-in-new-york
Tag: Dilantha Gunawardana
My two anthologies of poetry in print, Kite Dreams (2016) and Driftwood (2017), are available at all Sarasavi Bookstores island-wide. So is the Children’s Coloring Book, All Things Color (2017), illustrated by my wife, Michelle Alexander. So far Kite Dreams has sold more than 210 copies, in less than 2 years, since it was launched.
I didn’t comb my hair Still I looked chic in a buttoned shirt. I heard the announcer leak out my name I became in an instant, cheek to belly button, Dorsal to ventral, back to front From notorious Dilantha To emergent author The kite dream hovering like a slogan In the air, selling my brand
How beautiful is it to gaze at boundless fields Filled with harvests. Golden grains of paddy On top of a shatter-proof peduncle. A true wonder of biology pyramided inside granaries To fill large gunny sacs for transportation. And far away in Colombo, a little child Feeds a gecko with a rice grain Perforating the end
Lenin makes a little foray Into a million workers, about to chime The anthem of what keeps man Going from 9 to 5. The union Is just a little confederacy where Lenin followers gather on the roads And on makeshift stages to convince Some thousands of chants-men That the worker is the soul of mankind.
Your body is an orchestra. In the middle you have a percussionist. The heart with open valves bloating like A helium balloon and pumping To let oxygenated blood flow down the aorta. That is what keeps man on his toes. The live-wire, elan vital, the keeper Of the flame. And above the diaphragm, you find
Drawing a carriage is never easy Nor is the baggage, the overweight dreams That stand by you, and makes little incursions Towards a vivacity, you call happiness. I was born to a middle class family in Sri Lanka I started elocution at the tender age of 10 or 11 English was not fed to me
I grew up thinking that I was the black sheep of my family. I was always in my cousin Missaka’s shadow and it wasn’t easy to come near his shoe size. He was just brilliant. He, until recently, held the record for the highest number of marks obtained at the A/L examination. I on the