Sunrise in Gaza

[ Pic by: Anas al-Shareef/Reuters]

A place that was once his home

was ripped open by airstrikes

Everyone in  the house

died that night

Buried under the rubble

He tried to claw them out

With his bare hands

For hours 

Screaming for help

No one came

As dawn broke

He sat on his bed 

In silence

Nothing more to be done

The screams turned to water and ran down his cheeks

Falling, silently, just as they had fallen, 

He was left alive

He didn’t understand why

No words would come

He sat motionless, watching the sunrise 

The walls of his home 

Had crumbled and he could now see 

Things he has never seen before

Everything was in shambles

The sky didn’t mind

the sun didn’t care

Rising as it always does 

Brilliant colours splashed across

The perfect juxtaposition 

To the pain the earth has to bear

of diminishing humanity

speak of, should we dare?

Sashikala Premawardhane

7 February 2024

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

Strength is my weakness

If you see me strong,

Know that I have fought battles no one knows about,

In darkness, and in pain,

I have wrestled, often in vain

Questioned existence

Eyes blurred with tears

No one will see

Strong women, come out from their lair, all put together,

No reflection of the turmoil within,

Laughing, opinionated, smart

Changing, leading, keeping everything whole,

Asking for nothing more than to be understood, loved and cared for

She will push her demons aside

And hold your hand 

Even if it means her soul is tearing 

Slowly, until you heal

And will smile

As you walk away,

Turn around and start again 

Giving, in spite of the pain.

Sashikala Premawardhane

8th March 2023

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A mother’s lament at Easter

Many mother’s have lost children 

After a decade of peace

On Easter Sunday , in Sri Lanka,

Many more children’s lives were lost

A mother, a wife no more

Just a woman, trying to make

Sense of what happened

Reliving, regretting, each second of that dark day of doom

21st April, 2019

they sauntered casually

In to the house of God

Carrying in backpacks, 

The destinies of my children, 

Still in prayer…..

Destinies that exploded,

Laying bear the fragility of my island paradise

A thousand what ifs circling,

What if we had gotten up late, what if we hadn’t gone 

, what if, what if, what if………

Trying to hold on to fading pictures

Trying to let go of memories of laughter, joy that once filled a home

Trying to live through 

A raging battle within 

sanity and insanity

Waking up in a sudden cold sweat, 

Screams that pierce the heart

The tears that dry up, only to flow over and over again,

Never wanting sleep to end 

So that in dreams I can see them, 

they don’t visit, though, No

Not even in my dreams

No matter how much I will it

Do I hear their voices?

Are they here? 

Just empty spaces

Within and without

Where they once were

Justice for my family

Punishment for the killers

Yes, on some days, I wish for that……

Most days I wonder why I was spared and they were taken

And I live now, do I?

How do I do that? 

4 April, 2021

Sashikala Premawardhane

Dedicated to those brave survivors of the Easter Sunday terrorist attacks of 21/04/2019, Sri Lanka 

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

Regret

I should have called you back

I got up
Off the floor after a half an hour conversation and you said goodbye
I didn’t want our conversation to end
So I waited till you walked home from up the street
From the telephone booth where you used to call me -10 – 15 minutes or so
That’s the time it usually took
I opened my dorm room door – millions of miles away in Kansai
The hallway was dark and frightening
Everyone was asleep
I had to go down to the lobby to make international calls
I remember it being icy cold and the elevator looking ominous – stony steel that night
I turned back – some unknown fear overtaking me
I reassured myself – it’s ok I’ll call him tomorrow
Between that time and early hours of the morning
You breathed your last
I will never forgive myself
For not walking out that door that night
Going to the lobby
Taking that call
It would have kept you alive
I can never call you again
Not today
Not tomorrow
I pick up the phone out of habit
Look at the number under your name
You are not there though
Not anymore
I can never reach you on that number
No goodbyes
Just silence
A gaping hole where you used to be
And questions that’ll never get answered
And my lifetime of regret….

 

 

Sashikala Premawardhane

22 June, 2020

 

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

The wheel of misfortune

Have you seen a tyre?
Dark and gloomy
Hard and black
Without beginning or end
Whichever way you look at it
Heavy,lifeless,
it can take you from one destination to another, if you will
Depending on where it is fixed
But on its own
It doesn’t do anything
Until THEY find it

Have you seen this tyre?
sometimes burning, sometimes not
Adorning human necks
Garland of dark fear
‘83, ‘88/‘89, and now 2020
Maybe even in between
I don’t know
The harbinger of
Torture, pain,
The stench of which is a
Fearful, circular, call to death
It rises from the subconscious
Like the mythical sphinx
And fades, from memory,
As we let it
Scared to see what we have become
The violence we are capable of living with,
neatly hidden,
A few lone voices raised fleetingly
Barely audible
The collective will to forget
A moment that changed a life
That could change our course still
Or not

I have seen a tyre
Have you?

Sashikala Premawardhane
11 March 2020

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

Dare to rewrite this

You can’t tell me
I can’t ask you
For fear that
We will break us
Into a thousand pieces
Somehow
We’ve created a safe place
A space where we exist

I can hear your hurt
Through the words that haven’t been said
The heavy silences
The unspoken truths
The hesitation

Both unwilling to let go
Knowing, fearful, aware
Of what this could be
Recognition of souls
Who have known each other
In countless lifetimes
A sense of belonging created
Effortlessly
We watch each other
Hesitating….
Ties with others before and during all this, slowly ending,
After the storms within subside

Dare we rewrite this story ?

 

Sashikala Premawardhane

7th March 2020

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

 

You and I transactions

We connect

you and I

over distance and time

and on some days

we can disconnect just as simply

create the digital divide

‘cos

this, exists more

in the imaginary realm

Than it does in real life

safer, behind screens, where

emotions are created rather than felt

less to lose , more to gain

Online –

offline

modern day lovin’

Less for the heart

more for the mind

illusions

soul-less ego-games

you and I transactions

killin’ time.

 

Sashikala Premawardhane
20 February, 2020

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

Is there still something love can do?

 

Is there

something love can still do?

I ask, smiling skeptically

he’s offering me his heart,

tormented by feelings, raw and new

his confusion is evident,

at my question in response to his offer to love me

Perhaps I’ve been loved enough to know

how love changes everything,

takes control, breeds carefree abandon, trust

until there is no more of you or him, but us.

that moment, where identities merge…….

 

I know better now,

slipping through like quicksand

these moments, melt, in time

never constant, always changing,

only to resurface, in my imagination,

feelings, that changed life,

life that changed feelings

creating memories, that never leave,

memories that change your soul

that gnaw at your being, when love leaves,

and you don’t recognise yourself anymore,

picking up, pieces of you, from where they lay bare

and you are left wondering…

 

Is there

something love can still do?

 

Sashikala Premawardhane

25 August, 2019

 

Note: Poetry inspired by song “Is there still something love can still do” by RADWIMPS  Album Weathering With You (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)

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

 

It’s my life!

If you’ve lost the will to laugh
If you’ve lost the will to smile
If you can’t watch them theorize anymore
Fingers pointed at each other, in blame
If you’ve hung your head in shame, these few weeks
And feared forgetting them
Those that killed,
and, those that died
If the security checks are becoming the norm, yet again
If 30 years of pain is returning
And you don’t know what to do
How to help?
How to grieve?
How?

None of us must absolve ourselves
From the responsibility of those lives
On the one hand for letting our citizens turn terrorists
And on the other, letting the innocents die

Speak up
Raise your voice
Be involved
Make the effort
It could very well have been our families that fateful day
We count
We decide
We must be the change we want to see in this country
We must be each other’s shield
We are our destiny

I am my country
I am Sri Lanka
You are your country
you are Sri Lanka
We are our country
We are Sri Lanka!

 

Sashikala Premawardhane
28 May 2019

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