Death at Noon
Today dawned Like any other morning At the other end of the world My sister sits nursing a cup of coffee Her fingers numb From minus twenty Mind numb with shock. Here,…
Poetry
For Lasantha and others
Murder is a moment to point fingers Murder is a moment to crawl into shells. But moments don’t forbid, there is no opportune time, nothing auspicious about standing up, speaking out. Speaking…
In conversation with Vivimarie Vanderpoorten
An interview with Vivimarie Vanderpoorten, the Winner of the Gratiaen Prize in 2007. Vivimarie is also a Senior Lecturer in English, Dept of Language Studies, Open University of Sri Lanka. The interview…
Tears
I have never felt the same about blue frothy waters and ebb and tide since learning how your mild self could turn and gush hiss and spit washing out her tomorrows, her…
Planes in the sky
My feet are tired pressed into asphalt climbing the campus hill, composing a sparer line: effervescence in mist, swirling about the stones, a girl, freckled, jeaned, auburn-haired like the leaves, walks past…
Howl for a new generation (with apologies to Allen Ginsberg)
losing a beloved on an ordinary day in Colombo, in Mannar Town, where pools of blood swell on the steps of a bus, in the market place, on dusty shell shocked streets,…
The day after tomorrow
The day after tomorrow you write to me of blowing snow and whiteouts. of snow goggles and skating rinks you tell me your cat may need clothing and you joke about living…
Blood is their medal
 Last weekend a friend gave me a CD of songs by Victor Jara, a Chilean teacher, theatre director, poet and political activist.  His album reflects his struggle against an American-backed coup…
AFTER THE PARTY – in Memoriam: Anura Bandaranaike
I remember an evening flavoured by my mother’s cooking, bringing two smart patriots together, to speak about devolution not yet realized, accommodate what makes sense seeing the island from afar, the only…
ON INDEPENDENCE DAY
The rollercoaster’s rolling full throttle, has a new booster rocket not subject yet to safety experiment, riders thrown every few minutes, smashed to ground, publicists about to stop digging hands into steaming…
OBSERVATIONS: INDEPENDENCE
Seven school boys, baseball players, coach, waiting for a train, at Fort Station, exploded; 18 passengers, pilgrims, Kandy to Dambulla, private bus, accompanied by parcel bomb;. grenade thrown outside bird cages Dehiwala…