Sent to work
without wings
I searched under cobwebs
and waylaid cocoon rings.

I traded hearts
with burning moths
and tried to save theirs
from ashen dust.

Even fireflies in autumn
pressed them between leaves
and the butterflies hid theirs
among sinew streams.

I even looked in the ocean
and studied the gills
and wondered if I could use them
as temporary swings.

I stood with birds
tried to clip theirs alive
and the bees they were noisy
the flies were a rude bunch.

At last I let go
and buried my hands
my soul soared high
with wings I thought I never had.

We are all angels
without the outer wings
our souls have them hidden
until we are ready to flee.

©Malintha Perera 2015

The world is dancing
to the lawless music playing through leaf stalks
with amber wine in our tall glasses
from which I could taste the blood
of the crushed dry earth
pouring out and running down our adorned fingers.

I can see glimpses of faces
from within the cracks of our masquerade masks
the tattoos of dry tunnels of the deep dug rivers.

The mercury dust is streaking down our strained necks
and the glittering garments we are wearing
are clinging to our hot skins with films of sweat
drenching us with a sweet burden.

The feathers are coming off our sequined disguises
making us sneeze and cough
faltering our steps
lost in the haze of smoke
rising beneath our feet
and we think it is the mist carrying us.

And yet here we are spinning the globe
between our strapped heels
unaware of the embers within ashen depths
unfurling slowly
and we are still unaware.

©Malintha Perera 2014

Trees in dark tunics
leaves reflect the pale moonlight.

The silver fur of the moon
extended claws gripping the dark
veins are stretched to a chilled red wine.

Its taste tingles on the tip of my tongue
to lick the white stains of the ambushed sky
to pluck the emblems with my teeth
and howl silently with the moon
nudging the dark space to a blushing white.

©Malintha Perera 2015

A full moon morning
not yet awake
the fully fledged stars
were down to pay homage
seated on the vines
marinated in white robes
without the usual yellow makeup.
Only the breeze was allowed to touch them
to carry away the scent on their tongues
licking the moisture from the white skins
blowing gentle puffs
into the wide mouth of the gaping wind.
The wind circled around me whispering to be gentle
as I lifted each flower one to my small tray
and laid them around and around like a milky way
not breaking their prayer with the looming moon ahead.
Too late the white disc pinned me with its glare
continued to look down gently
from a balcony of cloud sprays
I heard every word that had gone on between them
and my eyes misted
with what they said.

©Malintha Perera 2014

night dipped in moon water
trees mouthing words
a mist forming on the surface high
dew drops ******* on the cement steps
incense smoke filming the whole scene
a lonely flame
a gentle twitch
ahead of the hall
a seated statue
eyes downcast
ignoring shadows high on the wall
just a flicker now and then
breaths sliced down
pieces of vibration splinters
fishing
for light
instead
confronts
a high voltage
emptiness.

©Malintha Perera 2014

I remember
the taste of mud
when I was a child.                                                    
How it laughed beneath my fingers                                
making mellow sounds
making me grin.
I thought they were melted dark chocolate
and  would lick a stain
when no one was around
and then wish that I was the earth
to hold such love
and make people smile
with my touch.

Inside the voice
of a bird’s cry
is a ride to the distant stars
                  circling the moon
                  through black holes
a soft play of Saturn’s flat rings
a humming heartbeat
a live silence      
a frequency
echoing
          inner space.

©Malintha Perera 2014

A buttercup was beautifying
for the afternoon dance
her cheeks were flushed with water
the garden sprinkler had thrown on.
Her petals were fully stretched to a softness
that even the  butterflies slipped when they trod upon.
the sun beams bounced off on the mirrored smoothness
and a bumblebee looked on hovering above with second thoughts
envying her golden locks.
She bathed in the sunlight turning every cheek for the warm rays
batting her long anthers dipped with thick orange powder.
I watched her shake her hips to the folk wind tunes
tip toeing into my heart
slowly
her yellow liquid lined eyes delving mine
making me smile
when I have almost forgotten how.

It was the running wind
more than touched me
not so gently
slapping my face
pulling the hair over my face
making a wild disarray
dumping the shawl around my neck
to a muddy puddle nearby .
Like everything else it just passed
not even looking back at the mess it made on me
I ran my fingers though my hair
rearranged myself
moved on.
the wind did not seep in
through my skin.

©Malintha Perera 2014

Early morning
I heard a dew drop
opening its white wings ;
each crack parted
a turning wave
a frost bubbling over.              
Within its eyes
the world was moving
in a daze.
About to explode
holding out to the sky
it coughed out life
a moist lick
on a coarse dry leaf.

© Malintha Perera

empty bellies....
a swelling
glow

tissue wings
tracing smoky blends...
wet meadows

goggle eyes
stirring marshy pools...
mirrors mist

a wild chorus
dims porch lights....
a concerto

ivies arch
stretching tunes...
flames convulse

signals wave
on long grass blades
for chats

the night
flares up in flakes...
an interlude

stars back off
pulling out their lights  ...
a truce

Copyright : Malintha Perera 2014

unblinking
your lashes
jet black
curling onto space ;
eyelids
shaded with clouds
sand dust
winking at the dark.
you are looking in to my heart
our eyes are meshed
in silence interlock
dueling
in this very moment......
I
am
lost.

all
souls
are
buried
through
this
tunnel.

I could hear it coming
along the contours
picking up footsteps
trampling over flower beds
trees forced
bending backwards
drawing blood
from lined throats;
Roaring wind
whiskers shaking
sharp teeth
stripes expanding;
Iris still
no enlarging
a silent witness
flickering
emotions.

There is no place
you can strip in peace
each garment we wear
is being seen
there is nothing to cover
underneath anyway
just loads of clothes
endlessly thrown.

Inside the kingdom
lotus buds
taken shape.
There’s no one to force open their fragile lips
no one to pluck them from the still ponds
tearing from leaves spread out
upheld palms
water drops dancing on their embedded lines
while frogs look on enthralled
their green skins fanned by wrinkles
playing on the surface
a slow exhale
and the heartbeat of the pond bed
throbbing
a pulse
so deep
can be heard
inside the very core
of each one of us.

i took a slice
of that moon light
a radiant prism
of a butterfly skin.

made some  lanterns
hung on each tree
sat back and watched
the wind playing hymns.

the keys were teeth
of a black puma
pulled the chords
a moonlight sonata.

it was a full moon
and i was breathless
music of vibes…
silent strings.

© Malintha Perera 2014

it came on
breaking the sultry skies
clouds faltered and fell
from the frozen screen
the earth caught its breath
was holding it......
wind evaporated
dew drops in the burning noon.

***** of birds wings
were my heart beat
each movement
a slow dance in a white mist.

trees were dark saints
with closed eyes and their roots
in a posture so still
yet, i could hear the vibration
of the leaves.... threading the silence
beads along a long necklace.

the sound of lucid pearls
against each other  
expanded its arms wide across
over and on
and trembled
in my ear.

Blood moon
dripping with solitude
each pore a mossy mole.

The backdrop transparent
blue waters
molecules of sand
at the hollow
sunken eyes.

Waves throw against
artery edges
a rising tide climbs high.

I’m still
in my solitary vessel
eyelids apart
the blood of life
crawling in my veins.

love
without greed, has
no measurements

© Malintha Perera 2014

leaves sculpted
statues in silvery
stardust

a solitary moon
half winks
peeks  through

its mocking gaze
a crest, on little trophies
erected within us

their ghostly shadows
a field of ruins
of fragile dreams.



© Malintha Perera 2014

the grass quiver tantalized
well tuned strings
plucked by those hands
of the churning wind
passing by…. passing by.

the leaves gyrate in tune
dancing on the chords
echoing in the stillness
whispering then and then
to go on…. to go on.

the sound of monkeys
adding leafy rhythms
with their jumps and turns
a mad crescendo
high and low…. high and low.

floating with the song
joy an ocean in each pore
my mind still and yet
on a magic carpet that swirls
here and there…. here and there.

© Malintha Perera 2014