Entries from November 2012 ↓

Saddest Place in New Jersey

There is a park on route 27 where they stay put
Until someone stops a car and sign
They count pebbles
on the ground.
When I pass, I pretend,
as it’s designed not to be seen
They don’t sing, hum or whistle
As shown in movie scenes.
Old and experts play dominoes
They know how days go by
But ‘fresh on board’ are young and the restless
with American dreams to dream.
If it was night and they were all women
you would call them street tarts
but these are men without work permits
waiting for work
somewhere they have to start.

හොඳ හිත

හොඳ හිත කැබළී වී
රසදිය වගේ කැටි විය
කුඩා දිලිසෙන
පබළු මෙන් එය විසිරිණ

කිසිවෙක් නොදැක
පෙරළි පෙරළි
කළුවරක ඒ ගුළි වුණ
මකුළු දැල් පිරි මුල්ලක

සියල්ලන් දැන් දුක් වන
බිඳුණු වීදුරු
කටුව ගැන උණ
කැබැළි අහුළන
උන් පාද නොකැපෙන්න

For Manel Akka

For Manel Akka

Your food is spicy
But you insist ‘thawath eka handak’
And that one more spoon full of love
makes me teary
than the chilly in your curry.
Your jokes are funny
If laughter is the best medicine, and you are around
I will never be sick,
except, I would break
each and every bone of ribs.
You are squidgy
And the hugs you give are warm and scented
like milk I was fed
from my mother’s breast
‘hi’ and ‘take care’ both well meant
You bewitch. That is also not a secret

And that flower too, is named after you
Not vice versa,
dear Manel akka.