He was a King, Though!

He was the king who reigned for years,

so phenomenal a grandeur

The archetype of sovereignty

He steered thousands of gallant warriors

and stood stunning like a golden swan 

So he held the opulent crown

with the twinkling turquoise in its crest

Time passed by, and the king grew old

It was then the old age frailties

He was confined to the bed,

and was like a rumpled brownish rag

The once tight muscles, 

now shrunk into hanging wrinkles

His lips were just quivering

with words struggling to come out

All day long, he was immersed in a trance

waiting for the eternal silence

And, at last, he was buried beneath the soil

Yes, it was common for every man

He was a king, though!      

Blissful Vesak

The flowers are all in a magnificent bloom

The full moon glistens like a golden plate

The flowery canopy over the foliage

looks like a shimmering bridal sari

The tiny birdies crisscrossing the air

like twinkling sabres

The silvery lined butterflies

embracing the flowers

The shallow streams

flowing melodiously

with the bluish waters

The breeze blows, so soothing

The whole world glows

with the dawn of happiness

The most sacred season of the year

The day when the truth

was revealed to the world

The greatest gift of the pristine Dhamma

leading to the eternal emancipation,

The highest virtue of Nirvana!

Glossary

Vesak – A highly important Buddhist festival which celebrates the three main events namely the birth, enlightenment and death in the life of the Gautama Buddha

Dhamma – The teachings of the Gautama Buddha, Buddhist teachings

 

To a Street Girl I Saw

 Your permed hair

 and gaped mouth

 still do I remember

 Between your dried lips.

 there were the brownish stained teeth

 that never gleamed.

 You had made your home in a grey corner

 of the scruffy pavement

 and a companion in a skeletal puppy.

 The torn out frock with its receding thread

 attached to the thin figure of sickly constitution.

 The sputter of a coin or two

 in your stained, discarded sardine tin

 was your sole communication.

 Goggle eyes fixed upon you

 and pupils in them dashing up and down

 While the night gorilla hurrying

 amidst the street buildings 

 your soft whimper heard by nobody.

 At times you were beside a public dustbin

 scavenging leftovers amidst a heap of cellophane.

 Your still eyes, I know, bore an expression

 and they revealed everything.

     

A Portent Warns a Soldier's Wife               

 The gutter of the wrenching lamp flame

 twisting itself wildly

 made a warning

 It jumped, skipped, pulled

 and spun round and round

 And was,

 in the end,

 dragged away by the roar of a brisk wind

 Her pulsation was hit for a moment…

 Throughout that night,

 she was armed against her heart

 The next day,

 it was late in the morning

 as she learnt he was gone,
 Gone with that very flame of her lamp. 

               

An Anthem for a Warlord  

Sought refuge in underground bunkers

Nor did you see the sunlight

while groping in the gloom of the underworld

At the fall of sky hugging mansions, 

you shrank into earth drilling luxurious bunkers

and fortified them with many a snare 

Isn't it due to your fear,

the repulsive fear of the death?

 Clad in armoured suits,

 what was your expectation?

Above all it was the fear

that quivered throughout your body

Despite your exorbitant wealth and excessive power

the fear burned your heart

almost like a rolling fire ball

You draped a chain attached to a capsule of Cyanide

around your Tigers' neck, 

just like a noose

to hasten their journey to the

penultimate destination

Yet, never did you wear one

The truth surfaces,

you were afraid of death

that you have bestowed on thousands

without the least sense

 Thirsty, you must be,

restlessly running after a mirage in the desert

The fear followed you like a shadow

Perhaps you wished mental relief,

relief from fear,

that you lacked in abundance

Yet, you are late,

too late,

 The dead may already be holing your heart!

Indunil Madhusankha