Short circuit
Think, think
Learn to think right
You lazy cognitive miser
Too lethargic to reason it out
Learn to think, after looking
The technicolored world
The multicolored people
The many facets of the moment
Frames and Filters
What lens are you wearing today?
A black, a blue or a rosy hue?
What nonsense this is; you taint the actual view,
Of the wonderful world around you.
Take off those glasses child!
They are blinding your sight
Remove the frames of the blame, the guilt
The unexplained inferiority
A Land for Sale
The land among the rocks
Stunning rice fields surrounds
The wind that whistles through the native trees
The smell of cardamom and the old rubber trees.
The natural crevice in the rock
The bubbling pond that is for child play
The dolls pool we called it
The only dampness thirty inches shallow.
The Doctor
He was born during the Black of July,
Raised during the JVP up-rise,
During the war, he went to school
His dad he lost, in a train bombing too soon.
His mother slaved herself giving tuition,
A public-school teacher she was,
She made sweet treats during the night,
And had them sold in a shop next to a bus depot.
The Lies They Told
For many years, she searched,
Searched to find the mountain ,
The mountain of victory, the one that she set out ,
In search of a vision, a perspective from atop.
One night, tired and weary, she cried out,
In total abandon, to end the climb
A sore heart that never saw the promises realized ,
She wept in the forest , amongst Kapoc and Fig.
Bliss
One day I stopped looking for you,
I was too tired of reading the great books
The quotes of the mighty sages
The poems of the prophets, and
And commentaries of the wise
I was tired of living the good and the bad
Wishing I would meet you in a lover’s eyes
The accolades from the prestigious schools
A respected career, in the service to your people
In daily living, in giving back and paying forward
Infatuation
In the solitude of the night
I obsessed about you
You know, everything about you
Your smell and stride and bubbly highs.
Everyone has their weakness,
And everyone knows that mine is you.
This infatuation is infuriating
I have no space in my mind,
Every ounce of my awakened day,
Absorbed in reliving your smile.
Discomfort
The wound that is slow to heal,
A once dormant microbe suddenly active,
My nail is out, they removed it with no anesthesia
As if I had a top secret, a criminal, a terrorist from afar.
Why does this wound not go away,
A screaming agony from inside,
Impeding mobility, speed, and balance,
Three months now and endless painkillers.
Loneliness
I sit in my porch and wonder,
This Covid nineteen,
Or is it twenty, or twenty-one?
I am bored to death but scared even more.
Oh those were the days,
The housewives’ meetings,
The coffee mornings at the scrabble club
The too-good-to- be- true chit chat.