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Sashi's Space

Que fue el beso del final?

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Poetry (before 2000)

Sitting in Silence

Self-destructive

When it comes to any kind of love

That’s me and you

Sitting in silence

Filtering a thousand little reasons

Why this wouldn’t work

the banter, which we’re usually so good at, abandoned

with nothing left to say

I get up, slowly, and dust off the back of my jeans

you look up, shaken by the sudden movement

I feel like I’m watching you at the bottom of some abandoned well

pale and shrunken

as if your life blood’s run dry

All that needed to be done really was reach out

And make contact

Afraid of what lies ahead

And afraid to say what’s in our hearts

We turn away

The moment, we, each in our minds think will come, never does

Why complicate, an already complicated, not really sure what this is, relationship right?

Wrong!

 

Sashikala Premawardhane

 

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Namba Traffic Lights

Hands clasped
Lovers stand at the traffic lights
And exchange a fleeting kiss
Too fast for anyone to see
But painfully long and sweet for the lonely lover looking on
Enviously……. the lights turn green
And in a flash they are gone
I must cross the street
And go back
To an empty room
To loneliness……
Love can be a constant ache
Moving all the time
With the motion of life
You try to block it all out
Be numb
Till you see the lovers at the
Traffic lights again
In a strange country
All alone
Strangers’ kisses can be
Especially painful

Sashikala Premawardhane

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

The Child

france-aussie-and-tky-330.jpg
She posed – no less than nine
Her countenance saying it all
Would you – it asked
Buy my flesh for a silver coin?
She names her price
And calls out – calls out ……
So clear and strong
Her voice rings out
Would you – it asked
Buy my flesh for a silver coin?
This not she
The child of nine
But the woman
The child you see
Is dead
            Is dead
                        Is dead
She died the day
Her flesh was sold for a silver coin
And now she stands
Pitied, mocked and forgotten
On the streets with the red lights
In a dark alley
She sells her flesh by night
In exchange for a silver coin
That buys her bread
Each night
        She lives and dies
                      And lives and dies
Then at dawn
When the world awakens
She sleeps
The child
No God to look upon her
Except the silver coin
That glitters in the sun.

Sashikala Premawardhane

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

Betrayal

I see you reaching out
Wanting me so desperately to understand
Yet I stand passive, impregnable
You speak
Trying to soothe my frantic mind with your words
Yet my mind is numb, indifferent
Your eyes search my face for a sign, a response
Yet my face reveals nothing
And my eyes remain neutral
You reach out your hand to touch my face
Yet that touch so basic fails make a connection
I watch you from afar
My mind detached, my heart closed
One word
Pounding
Beating down my heart
Betrayal!!
The emptiness of an infinity precious thing lost!
Fills my mind
And the pain, the darkness remain
Only as a distant, cruel reminder
Of a betrayed soul
Walking like a shadow of a man
One step behind
A constant cruel whip lashing down
My desolate and damned heart
And you dare ask me to understand?

Sashikala Premawardhane

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

One Red Sock, One Blue

They were taking them in
plastic bags
the legs
the arms
the heads
Sirens screaming
An ambulance screeching to a halt.
The barber shop
The telephone booth
The cobbler who fixed my shoes
are gone
Just smatterings of flesh
Strewn on the sidewalk
remnants to remind us of
the lives that are gone
I saw them all explode
I was there
Just as I am here now
Just as you are
Hearts stopped
Burst forth from their chests
And reached the sky
in a shower of blood
It was Red – the sky – the blood

The child was about eight
in a pretty blue skirt
A smile on her face
Perhaps the joy of reaching the zoo
But she never did
She had on
one red sock and one blue
She would have wanted to show
it to the monkey thought I
she had on
one red sock and one blue
but she exploded
before that
much much before that
She had on
one red sock and one blue…….
one red sock and one blue…….
Why?

Sashikala Premawardhane

A Bus Ride

An empty seat
I rushed in and sat
The bus started moving
Every inch of my body – vibrated
Looked outside
From a rusty window pane
While the wind beat my face
It was six a.m.
And I was late
Hadn’t had breakfast
Couldn’t rather
Would have thrown it up
There were slum kids you see
On either side of the road
Uhm…
Doing – well…. You know what
The funniest though
Were the adults that sat beside them
With incessant encouragement
Or so I thought
The language you see
I don’t quite know
I am a long long way from home

Thankfully today
I have the seat to myself
I like the solitude
Gives me time to think
Or nod off a little
And sleep a wink
My joy is short lived
A woman …middle-aged
Makes herself comfortable
Next to me
And invades my space
Crossed her legs
Up on the seat
They are cracked and filled with mud
Ugly to see
Her lips are red
By chewing beetle
And she clears her throat constantly
I am gripped by fear
That she might
Cough up some phlegm
Onto my face
I am now rigid
Like a statue
Can’t lean on the rusty bus
Nor on the woman
What am I to do?
She leans over to the window
And I shrink back
Spits out the residue- SPLAT!
A trail of red spit
Is carried on the winds
Hits a cyclist
Smack on the face
The man is furious
And gives the bus chase
Screaming in filth (no doubt)
For us to stop
The middle aged woman grins
her chuckles don’t stop
I stare at her in disgust and disbelief
She cares not a hoot
And leaves her seat
I relax
A little too soon
A man asks for the window seat
And I give him room
He sits down
Looks rather clean
I think to myself
All said in vain
He cleans his snoot on the windowpane
I am too stunned for a moment
To even move
I shake myself
Enough is enough
I’m getting off this wretched bus!!

Sashikala Premawardhane

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

Walls

window.jpg 

I am confined by
Concrete walls
That close me in
Like a child in a womb
Strange I think
That even after being born
I want to live within
Only now
I go in and out and
Out and in
Returning each day
To this prison I’ve built
With my toil and sweat
I call it home.
Grilled my windows
So no intruder may invade
Locked my doors
It will keep me safe
And each day
Within and without
I go out and in and
In and out
Strange I think
That even after being born
I want to live within

The tabby cat is on the water tank
Outside
Curled up and content
I watch him through my iron bars
I long to touch it
So – I call out
It lifts its head and
Seems to look on in disdain
As if to say
‘strange to be so confined’
he sleeps on the leaves that have dried
Under the tree
Wakes, stretches, curls, and looks away
Rain drops fall
And he scurries away
I laugh
“You are wet and I am not”
He shakes himself under a leaf
Fascinated by the rain drops that fall
Drip! Drip!
Extends his paw to catch it
And shakes it away
Its not so bad to get wet in the rain!!
But
I am confined by
Concrete walls
That close me in
Strange I think
That even after being born
I want to live within
And in and out and
Out and in – I go
A maze have I made for myself
And herein have lost my way
And all this while
The tabby cat
Is free
In the rain
To play.

Sashikala Premawardhane

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

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