"lankan" poems
oh right...
back in h'america it's called
patriotism -
but 'ere, over, Here -
it's called nationalism...
back on the old continent
where and when all politics
is far-right mantra
and then you have
your Victoria and Abdul -
love the curry...
but like the **** said...
i'd prefer the aura and sauna
of the...
don't get me wrong:
i love the food...
but watching the Indian caste
system?
of Indians employing slaves
to build their upper-middle-class homes?
more tanned?
oh, you mean the Sri Lankan
or the Bangladeshi poor ********
sorry... i thought all slave
owners were white...
no?
oh...
alright...
**** you then!
because?
next time you ask...
i'll do what the Nazis did to the ********
i'll twist the star of David sideways...
exposing the prayer mat
and an opened book...
and, as far as i am concerned,
Islam is equivalent to the bubonic plague...
now...
compare the geographic literature
and spot the quarantine areas on a map
that constitutes Europe.
i'd rather die...
than fiddle with a phallus for
a taste of the Arabian quasi
harem orchestra of... absolute...
********
Arabian women?
fat hands...
their hands are too fat...
they have to inter-breed to
get rid of their
farmers' market of
fudge fingers and knuckles...
Arabian women expose
what is the most **** aspect
of a woman's body...
their hands...
Arab women have pork chops
for fingers...
and i'm not even sorry
making this observation...
fatty extensions
that you wish could at least
succumb to the esteem
of a pork head terrine.
Arab women can wear their niqab,
or whatever the hell they wear...
one problem...
FAT..... HANDS...
FAT.... FINGERS...
hell, hide them...
these women are worth half the erection's
worth in the *********** market of
feminine hands...
Arab women are no possessed with
geisha hands... porcelain architecture...
they're not tender... slight, polite...
the hands of Arab women are
the hands of European women...
who have a legitimate sway on arable
land, that is fertile with either
potatoes or cabbage;
well...
fat fingers eager to harvest ginger
(roots) -
what can i say...
no matter the diamond,
or the European *****
the hand is still looking
readily available to milk a ******* camel.
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
Enero Kinse, Dos mil Kinse
Sa Villamor umindak daan-daang estudyante
Paglapag ng eroplanong Sri Lankan
Mga sasalubong naghiyawan
Pagbukas ng pintuan ng sasakyang lumilipad
Skull cap ng Santo Papa ay nilipad
Pagpanaog sa hagdan ng eroplano
Sinalubong ng mga sundalo at ng Pangulo
Pinatugtog himno ng ating bansa
Ganundin ang himno ng Vatican sa Roma
Dalawang batang ulila sa kanya sumalubong
Matamis na pagbati sa kanya ibinulong
Sa Pope Mobile na walang panangga sumakay
Ang Supremo ng Simbahan todo ngiti at kaway
Kahit gabi na kayraming tao bawat daanan
Hanggang sa Apostolic Nunciature na pagpapahingahan.
-01/16/2015
(Dumarao)
*Pope Francis Fever Collection
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 9:41 PM UTC
Remember me?
You once called me the apple of your eye
And now you don't call at all.
I can't say we both look upon the same set of stars
because we don't.
And I can't say we both look at the same moon
when I see it from my bedroom window
because I know it is daytime there.
Remember when you taught me
to love the ocean
as we sat out together on the rocks
while you caught fish
and I caught *****
How we would fish until the sun sank into the water
and the tides and the moon rose?
Do you remember?
All of those times you said "I love you"
all the times you hugged me so tightly
How if anyone would ask about me
you'd hold me under your arm
and say, "This is my daughter!"
with the biggest grin on your face.
Do you remember?
All the stories you used to tell
about the first scrambled egg
or the higgledy-piggledy wangra
Are they still there?
Or has the heat of the Sri Lankan sun
and the hum of the ceiling fan
let these memories drift away?
Have you forgotten me?
I let you back into my heart
just so you could break it again
with silence.
You told me how bad it felt
To lose your dad.
Why did you take away mine?
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 2:34 AM UTC
He flew to our shores on the back of a black iron bird,
Immigration stamped him through on a student visa,
His mother’s kiss still lingered upon the lips of memory,
To Sheffield he came waving away Sri Lankan tears.
Life was hard, life was sleepless, life was unrelenting,
To eat his daily bread he worked long into the dread night,
By day he studied English knowledge inked in books old,
And by the arrival of twilight he delivered steaming dreams.
Every day, every single day, by the light of day, he spoke,
He spoke to his beloved mother so far away across oceans,
They had a bond true and deep, a mother and her beloved son,
But wings wet with evil were flapping closer and closer…
On the night before the Eve of All Hallows the darkness came,
As he drove through a wet night on the last shift of his job,
As he went to deliver his final aromatic pizza of the evening,
That’s when the demons of ignorance stabbed away his hopes.
They came from an infernal zone and they sliced through him,
The silent angels watched with horror stitched in their sockets,
His liquid life ebbed away at the coffin wheel of his delivery car,
The cold October moon wept milky light upon the warm blood.
The media ravens will label him ‘this’ and ‘that’ and the ‘other’,
And soon, all too soon, his name will melt into memory’s mist,
His name was Thavisha Lakindu Peiris and his life sings no more,
Under Halloween’s one eyed moon a soul kneels for justice.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 10:18 AM UTC
I am a true lover
& come from a long line
of traditionalists,
believers of the leaf-faith.
I live in their spirit
day & night,
from Yunnan
where the gold is harvested,
down to Kenya I travel,
then to Sri Lankan rainforests,
to sip the Sinharaja black brew.
I visit the czars with Kusmi,
stay with Earl Grey a bit
on those misty eves
& on some chilly days,
I relish a nice
mysterious Chai with spice.
O yes, you dear fellow imbibers,
try some Golden Monkey
& a hit of Lapsang Souchong,
PG Tips & a hot cup of Sencha Uji.
It'll certainly hit the spot,
tonight.
And at the rising
of the morning star,
tomorrow,
gently down Red Moon.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
I can own
seven wonderful tiny old rectangular turquoise Sri Lankan Jaguars.
But I cannot own
seven Sri Lankan wonderful rectangular old tiny turquoise Jaguars.
No.
That makes me sound crazy.
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 1:32 AM UTC
I have never met you
And you don't even know I exist
But you have cast a spell on me
From which it would be very difficult to recover
Your eyes blaze with an intensity
That can even melt steel
Your smile is so beautiful
That it cannot be surpassed
Even by that of Mona Lisa
Your laugh is so musical
That even the songs of AR Rahman
Would pale in comparison
Your hairstyle is an art in itself
Your dress sense is so impeccable
That it would put even the finest Italian designers to shame
And last but not the least
We come to your acting
A Sri Lankan Tamil dancer *** revolutionary
In the movie "Jagame Thanthiram"
A humble and yet powerful boatwoman
In "PS1" and "PS2"
A fierce wrestler with short hair
Forced to become a submissive housewife with long hair
In "Gatta Kusthi"
And finally
A teacher dealing with troublesome students
As well as impending layoffs and rejected marriage proposals
In "Archana 31 Not Out"
Given any kind of role, you play it to perfection
Born with oodles of natural talent
You nevertheless refuse to rest on your laurels
And put your heart and soul
Into the profession which you hold so dear
You are an inspiration to one and all
Forced to do an MBBS
By your extremely conservative parents
You have nevertheless the courage
To break free of the shackles placed on you
And pursue your own dreams
What's more, the risks you have taken off
Have ultimately paid off
You are the numero uno of present day Mollywood
And flying high in Kollywood as well
Yes, you have cast a spell on me
But it was a spell, that I refused to resist
And rightly so
Jun 4, 2023
Jun 4, 2023 at 5:48 PM UTC
*Turn off all the lights;
ceiling, closet, hall, and eyes;
Now I'm in your mind.*
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 1:25 AM UTC