Aborigines

A round Eucalyptus bark, gather, B reathless groups of men, dark as cocoa, O verlooking a rusty dome, Uluru, it is called. R emembering an adolescence of gleaning, I ndustrious in harnessing the abracadabra of a land; G oing for a bath to a billabong, to a high on pituri, I ndigenous, and still loyal…

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Some Pics from My 20s (From my days in Melbourne)

To my 531 followers. Thank you for reading my poetry. I miss Melbourne.  

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Melbourne

Dedicated to all my friends in Melbourne.  That place in the corner Of down under, that endearing town. A hodge-podge of young hopefuls Who sell their palms to industry, Their hearts to plurality, And live and die, on these intersections Where two colors meet, and paints One with the other. That Color-assimilated partiality, which washes…

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Hello

In Sri Lanka, many Husbands call their wives “Hello” For some reason, the mobile phone Is not the same as a ground line. There is something exhilarating About putting your finger to a little embossed hole And rotating the dial and the receiver Starting to give the ring tone. Your heart Starts pumping, a little…

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Reality Strikes at the Melbourne Airport

Its 7.30 in the morning At the Melbourne airport Waiting for the flight to arrive – an inland flight From Melbourne to Canberra I’m impatient, not to see my cousins Or to play tourist but to get that nagging feeling away Of being stuck in a limbo for a good 2 hours. Its that feeling…

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