Starry crown

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Feast galloped into a hole
And king held just its tail
But his tummy did tell
a tale his tongue didn’t tell.

I’ve read an anti-heroic tale:
A jackal a king cat fooled
And aptly proved him a fool
Witless, tasteless, and old.

Voices hissed in her ears
To mourn, to fight for rights
Or free this bloodless tree
And flee from deceit and lie.

“I’ll wear,” lastly he did swear,
“Atop, thee, my starry crown
And sit beside thee benumbed
Adoring thy rosy, fairy feet”.

Copyright © April 23, 2020, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay

Doomed heart?

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He may lie to the whole world;
Rob he may the entire world,
But have you truly noted one
Escaping from his faulty heart?

He may pick a delicate flower,
And create a castle sky high,
But have you seen a man ever
Mending his crumbling heart?

He may win the entire world;
Lords may kiss his velvet feet,
But can he ever, truly heal
His doomed, aggrieved heart?

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Upstream, you did swim!

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Upstream, you did swim,
Sprinkling love on envy,
And ousting fame and name as sputum,
But we’re paddling and battling downstream.

Upstream, you did swim,
Partaking from love of owning,
And tuning paeans seeing others dining,
But we’re paddling and battling downstream.

ඔබ ගියේ උඩු ගං

ඔබ ගියේ උඩු ගං
වෛරයට, පෙම් ජලය ඉසිමින්,
කිත්, යසස්, කෙළ පිඩක් යැයි හඟිමින්.
එහෙත් අපි තරඟයක ගළන ගඟ සමගින්.

ඔබ ගියේ උඩු ගං
වෙන්වීම, නියත බව දකිමින්,
දන්දීම, මහඟු මග ලෙස ගනිමින්,
එහෙත් අපි තරඟයක ගළන ගඟ සමගින්.

Copyright © April 12, 2020, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay

Jungle law? / අවනීතිය?

A-Monkey 2

Dinosaurs! a meteor killed.
In case, it failed,
Sure, they could have killed
You, me, and all.

Corona, will kill us all.
(I hope it won’t!)
In case, it failed,
Darwin, for sure,
Will prove us false.

ඩයිනසෝර්? නැහුනා.
උල්කාපාතයක් වැටිලා!
හැබැයි නැහුනෙ නැත්නම්,
අපි ඔක්කොම නහිනවා.

අපිත් නහිනවා,
කොරෝනා ගහළා.
හැබැයි නැහුනෙ නැත්නම්,
අනිත් උන් නහිනවා.

Copyright © April 5, 2020, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay

Magics?

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Did those clear eyes
that grin and sneer at
a man’s lost eyesight
see their sister-daughters,
or brother-sons
that did his ill-fate breed?

He was the beacon,
the guiding North Star
that guided us all
when we just grouped,
but what use of those magics
if in mud he wallows?

Copyright © April 5, 2020, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay

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The Tenants

The Tenants, Poem

Let’s say.

Let’s say high,
kneeling down,
weeping, lamenting,
while waving
milk-white flags,
the emblem of peace,
praying,

“Give us,
just one chance more
to learn and live”.

Let’s say high,
pray and pledge,
palm on our lungs,
kneeling down.

Yeah, let’s say
high and loud,

“Allow us to live
as tenants, at least”.

 

Newton Ranaweera, March 29, 2020.
Image source: Pixabay

A single wish!

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In a police cell I live today
with fellow criminals
who may know not, as I do,
why we’ve been locked in.

Zoom in tales so horrible
from lonely, dark rooms,
maybe hellish than this cell
that we freely move around.

I see one’s feeble face
illumined with a single hope,
with a dire desire to die,
holding a loved one’s hand,

and with a faint, farewell look.

Copyright © March 28, 2020, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay

Fantasy fish

fisherman

Craving to own
a fish alone,
begot he as his tool
a mid-day brawl.

His son and woman
bellowing, “Amen,”
butted their neighbours
bereft their armours.

Fate, his faithful mate,
marched, but in haste,
parodying him of a mule
and driving us to school.

Lost he his fight
his terrific sight,
his woman and son
and his single loin;

Oh! for a fantasy fish.

 

Copyright © February 4, 2020, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay

Squirrel Mom

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With her wet tail to the shore she runs
To drain sea and save her drowned son;
I see a mother run with her dead son
Seeking mustard seeds from divine men.

With pouring tears back to sea, she runs
To drain sea and save her drowned son;
Mom into her home runs through flames
To avenge red flames that burn her sons.

She runs – to and from sea – she runs
To drain sea and save her drowned son;
A mother cradle on her breasts her twins,
Frightening her restless eyes with pins.

 
Copyright © January 4, 2020, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay

Love, Lust & Dust

Love, Lust, book cover 2

This play’s title: Love, Lust & Dust,
Aptly implies a bitter tragedy life is.
With love it begins, an ecstatic start,
And onrushes through complexities
To climax: crazy satiation with illusive lust,
When we dance as crabs in a boiling pot,
Being with all the pleasures drunk,
Not knowing what dread fate is to come next,
And then ends this play curiously heroic
In misery, when everything: love – lust,
Turns to ashes, and at last, to odorless dust.

 

Copyright © January 1, 2020, Newton Ranaweera
Cover Design by Sachin Ranaweera

The most crooked

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An egret wore, milk-like white
and sat still, with eyes down cast,
but shot his devilish, eyeballs out
if a fish ever hugged, his holy feet.

“They may wear milk-like frocks;
necks may grow long like rocks,
but I’ve never, ever seen
fish-gobbling ones, observing sil.”

Soon he drew a heavenly pond, and
enticed and gulped the shoal of fish,
but a crafty crab, sat hiding in the pond
packed that bully into a pond of hell.

He that pecks, antique tree trunks
and honors so high, his crafty work
bows so low, beneath, a banana tree.

 

(An interpretation of Baka Jataka tale, which is a story about an egret that fooled a shoal of fish in a pond and gobbled them all but was fooled by a crab.)

Copyright © December 26, 2019, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay

Brawly battle

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Sure, I saw that brawly battle
between a demon and our brain
not truly in the real ground
yet in my devout mind.

Snarled in roaring
black winged, dreary demon
with blood dripping claws,
through a shower of arrows.

Down fell all five weapons
like cotton on demon’s wings,
but boldly fought our brainy lion
with wisdom, his wild weapon.

Fell on his knee dreary demon
like a tamed tigress purring
and promising evils to abandon
and to guard people all around.

Thus, wisdom when weds
loving kindness
shields you, me and all, from
blood-hounding wild demons.

Inspiration from Ven. Maharagrama Ananda’s poem, “Weapon Within” (a poetic interpretation of Panchayudha Jataka tale)

Copyright © December 15, 2019, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay

Worn out Cloaks?

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You wash your cloak;
You love your cloak,
And keep it safe
From dust and rust.

But dust and rust
Can creep it in
And dirt your cloak
And wear it out.

Will you save it
or throw it off,
Wear a fresh cloak
And love it more?

 

Copyright © December 8, 2019, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay