VadhaI have seen two blossomings of the Kurinci flower and twenty-four black monsoons since Kalinga Magha first landed on the shore of our island Kingdom. He arrived as the rainy season ended greenery erupting from every hollow, pepper vines snaking up every tree. Cranes and peacocks drank from the bowls of mangrove roots, elephants rolled and snorted in watering holes, and the mists were slinking back to stalk the lush valleys of the Hill Country.Vadha6 years ago in Historical
The thousands of soldiers Magha brought with him trudged for days through our country's red mud, sinking in potholes and cursing their gods in all the languages of the mainland. Farmers knee-deep in sprouting paddy fields looked up as they passed in a mile-long column, and muttered to each other that war had come again to Lanka. The months of rain had swollen the rivers, and it took Magha longer than he expected to reach Polonnaruwa through the flooded river crossings.
Pray for Sri LankaSri Lanka is an island country off the southern coast of India.Pray for Sri Lanka4 years ago in Profiles
Until 1972 it was known Ceylon.
The population is 20.4 million.
The political capital is Sri Jayawardenapura Kotte.
Colombo is the largest city and commercial capital.
Sri Lanka is famous for its beauty and has been called "The Pearl of the Indian Ocean"
Sri Lanka is the world's 2nd largest exporter of tea.
Sri Lanka was the first Asian country to have a female ruler:
Queen Anula (reigned 47–42 BC.)
12.7% Sri Lankan Tamil
7.2% Sri Linan Moor
5.1% Indian Tamil
The country's documented history goes back over 3000 years.
From 543 B.C.-1815 Sri Lanka was ruled by several different dynasties:
Buddhism was introduced in 250 B.C.
Sri Lanka was
sri lankasri lanka8 years ago in Songs & Lyrics
Namo namo Matha
Mother Lanka - we salute thee,
But the saltute is lately only military
Plenteous in prosperity, thou,
Plenty also the terror that seems to grow
Beauteous in grace and love,
Find everything that youre dreaming of
Laden with corn and luscious fruit
Meals nutritious and tasty, like they should
And fragrant flowers of radiant hue,
Of the wars horros nature gives us no clue
Giver of life and all good things,
And of all the struggles human life brings
Our land of joy and victory,
It still maintains some kind of colonial glory
Receive our grateful praise sublime,
For our country seems to be in its prime
Lanka, we worship thee.
Thou gavest us knowledge and truth,
But forgotten is the barely functioning truce
Thou art our strength and inward faith,
Ruined is our childrens once promising fate
Our light, divine and sentient being,
Living in paradise is such a marvellous thi
Sri Lanka- Lab for ResolutionSri Lanka- Lab for Resolution12 years ago in Editorial
Sri Lanka: Laboratory for Resolution
Sri Lanka: the land of smiling faces, beautiful tea fields and warm beaches. To the tourist, it's a paradise on earth. Those who don't know her history might take it for just that: a paradise on earth. The first foreign persons on the island now know as Sri Lanka, affectionately called it Serindib. This means "The Land of Happy Surprising Events".
The Island of Sri Lanka (located in the Indian Ocean) consists of two major ethnic groups, The Sinhalese and the Tamils. In its history, the men of both groups preferred to marry the women of the opposite group. Because of this, any native Sri Lankan researching her/his roots would almost never find that their ancestry was exclusively Sinhalese or Tamil.
Both ethnic groups got along with each other until approximately 1800, when the British colonized the island. The British favored the Tamil peoples and did more trade with them. It was thought that the Tamils were more intelligent and easier to deal with t
Sri Lanka: a battle cryWe are the dark-skinned warrior women of the southern hemisphere, of the continent you call Asia.Sri Lanka: a battle cry7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
You have named our country in your multiple tongues.
(How many of you know what the word means?)
(Do you know it's more than tea?)
Sri Lanka is our name.
It means nothing in your tongues.
It is Sanskrit. We force you to accept it.
You call Deutschland Germany.
You call Osterreich Austria.
But Sri Lanka is Sri Lanka.
Our country, our tongue.
This is our delineation of self. We reject your multiple names and choose our own, and you will use it.
Every time you speak it, you make us stronger. You strip away the years we spent under your rule, torn and tugged at, divided and swallowed.
Every time you speak our name, (the name we chose when we threw you out), our power grows.
Our syllables in your mouth sound strange. Good. Suffer. Speak them!
Too long did we
My Uncle in Sri LankaIn a Place ravaged by warMy Uncle in Sri Lanka12 years ago in Free Verse
You were not killed by
a stray bullet
a land mine
or as an innocent victim of a bomb attack
No, not any of these ways,
You escaped them all
Only to be bitten by a dog
A dog with a disease
I don't even have a photo of you
In fact i didn't really know you that well
But i remember when i first met you
Incredibly kind and Welcoming
A pity to this world and me
That you have left.
24 Stitches you required
We thought all was well
Till you became ill...
... and departed this world.
To be united with the abyss of the Universe.
You left behind your 3 dependents
The Tamil HolocaustThe Tamil Holocaust11 years ago in Free Verse
In July of 1983,
The government of Sri Lanka let out its own form of anarchy,
Releasing prisoners who were all Singhalese,
Into Colombo to rape and plunder the Thamil societies.
They were beating men, then cutting off their heads,
Raping women, then cutting off their heads,
Children, all I see are children dead,
All I see are headless bodies and red.
Remembrance of the Holocaust. The Thamil Holocaust.
They see an innocent man, walking alone on the street,
They strip him of his clothes and rip out his teeth.
I guess that the machine that is faultless,
Is actually filled with deceit.
A bus filled with Thamils is stopped,
The doors are locked, all exits blocked,
They drench it with petrol, then light a match,
The people inside were burning like dead grass.
Remembrance of the Holocaust. The Thamil Holocaust.
They see a lone Thamil cyclist, riding a bike,
They light him on fire and hack him to death with jungle knives.
One Thamil prisoner sentenced to die for lobbying
Flightless hornbillsAfter mankind disappeared, Africa's eastern zone, composed of what is now the lands to the east of the Rift Valley, has split away, becoming an island like Madagascar once had in the Mesozoic. This island, sometimes known as Zinj land, kept moving to the east, towards the center of the Indian Ocean, standing between Arabia and Madagascar, the later moving alongside it. Several times it has collided with either landmass, forming brief faunal interchanges; this, combined with long periods of isolation, has provided it with an unique fauna.Flightless hornbills5 years ago in Settings
20 million years from now, this island has a mostly tropical climate, lying right in the Equator. Diverse forms of tropical rainforest are the dominant vegetation, from the typical humid equatorial forests to more unusual types like montane cloud forests or dry monsoon forests. Most of the inhabitants of these forests are descendents of african species isolated here, many of which descending from creatures that dwelt on the savanna. Other species are i
The PansalaThe cascade of people scurried along,The Pansala4 years ago in Free Verse
White glades of silence marched along,
Fragrance of flowers and fumes,
Engulf them as the walls told a story
Chanting and the humming
Spoken words by the might,
A single person that taught the world
Truth and belief live in us all,
The mighty elephants that graced
Marched the heavenly roads,
As the eyes witness the glades of light,
Drums and beats of the dances
Welcome the years rejoice,
As I stand embracing the light of the lamps
Illuminating my path, my future, my life
Shivika's Corner © Ray of Life
i don't know you anymoreyour eyes look like:i don't know you anymore6 years ago in Free Verse
the sun rising behind a stained-glass window
a hurricane crashing into land
the smoke that fills the air after a cigarette is lit
an array of fish amidst a coral reef
my old, torn-up pair of blue jeans
dewdrops on forget-me-nots at dawn
waking up to a foggy window
the curtains drawn at 3 p.m.
a pool that i can't see the bottom of.
The Name of Love"Excuse me miss, but do you have the time of the-"The Name of Love5 years ago in Fan Fiction
Rosa turned to face the woman who had tapped her on the shoulder, a quizzical look on her face as the other broke off. The glimpse she had caught of the older woman's face was wide-eyed with surprise and perhaps a bit of fright, as well as something hidden, which Rosa couldn't quite catch. The woman quickly turned away, almost doubling over with one hand on her heart and the other wrapping around her torso.
Rosa reached out a hand, not quite touching. "Are you all right?" she asked, genuine concern underneath her own surprise and puzzlement.
"No miss, I always look this way," the stranger replied, scurrying away. Rosa sensed sarcasm in the retort, and decided to set the strange encounter aside.
She cast her eyes around for her friend Helena, with whom she had been walking, as well as Helena's twin brother Neville. She knew from firsthand experience that Neville could be temperamental and flighty at times, and figured Helena had chased
trading traditionstrading traditions8 years ago in Free Verse
Trading treasured traditions
For treacherous trendy trivia
Has become a bad habit here
In itself almost another tradition
Added to a trunk-load full of drama
Being dramatically embedded
In thousands of years of yearning
Embroidered with the trash of tourists
Who bring themselves and their own
Treason masked as Western traditions
Enamouring natives and locals
With what is alien and everything but
Unalienable dare to say untouchable
Thus traditions are traded in for
Trash TV and TV trash recycled
Japanese cars and Indian trishaws remodelled
Fashion fads and futile attempts ridiculous!
Tricky things traded in for traditions
As soon as the first home for elders
Replaces the cosy home shared with elders
As soon as the first child day-care
Replaces the daily care for a child
As soon as the first foreign Sri Lankan in Sri Lanka
Replaces the typical Sri Lankan in a foreign country
You can be certain that even here
The Ways I'll Tell You...Ek is lief vir jou.The Ways I'll Tell You...4 years ago in Free Verse
Ես սիրում եմ քեզ.
Я кахаю цябе.
আমি তোমায় ভালোবাসি.
Jeg elsker dig.
Ik hou van je.
Mi amas vin.
Ma armastan sind.
მე შენ მიყვარხარ.
Ich liebe dich.
હું તમને પ્રેમ.
Mwen renmen ou.
אני אוהב אותך.
A Mother's CryA Mother's Cry11 years ago in Free Verse
a fierce heavenly ripple
the lights have all gone out
the engine beats
no froth or foam
only mountainous rings
from the hand of God
a wide-eyed child
the sand is wet
and the ocean empty
no tide or current
only flapping fish
luring the child in
and then the pause
a wall of cold beauty
breaking upon the shore
screams into the side
every crack and cranny wet
a fish in the child's hand
the child invited,
the air dry
now a brittle silk.
brown water filled with trees
now is light, reflective,
And in the middle of the sea
he swims deep into the heart of
where warmth takes him
and wide-eyes know
still and accepting
comforting his Mother.
CeylonI sailed to Ceylon where the sunsets shine,Ceylon7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Relaxed under rainstorms and rundown roofs
Elephants slosh in the sandstone silt streams
Candles and carvings in caves with calm moods
So much scenery to stop and survey
Finds shops to peruse as locals purvey
Just learn to haggle and you'll learn the way
a culture so rich I wish I could stay
Colours created by chemicals crushed
Beetles deemed precious in the dye process
Pet dogs fight for scraps and men light more lamps
I love watching fireflies but I digress
I hate lemon grass, the cuts went so deep
and all the chairs are made solely of cane
The driver gets tipped, the exchange rate's cheap
You'd better pack quick or we'll miss our plane
Speak Soon, My LoveThe sweet farewells,Speak Soon, My Love5 years ago in Free Verse
Forced; those words we hate to say.
His declarations of love,
Echoing; in my mind, ears, and heart.
That hanging resonance,
Lingering; ever after he hangs up.
Every second of the call,
A verbal embrace;
'Til next time,
Speak soon, My Love.
FidelityI have seen thirty dark monsoons,Fidelity6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
two flowerings of the black-stalked
Kurinci flower beneath the moon.
Too many long nights have I walked
through the Hill Country's sweet thunders
the rain tears the earth asunder,
the dusted Kuyil soars higher;
bamboo ploughs the earth like gunfire.
The Bloodbuzztwo years from nowThe Bloodbuzz3 years ago in Free Verse
I hope you’re not the one
I regret I didn’t get to
I want to remember the way you walked into a room
filled with all my empty
and re-invented the lightbulb
a level of alive so
the way it must feel to
accidentally swallow something
with bright feathers
I want to remember
as the beginning of
Monkey StoryJust to begin, I am a clown. Not as a profession, but for humanitarian reasons. I have traveled the world as a clown, most recently to Ecuador. But the story I would like to tell happened in Sri Lanka, which was my first trip. The trip was nearing its end, and the entire group I was traveling with were all very tired, and ready to go home. Our route back to Colombo and the airport took us directly through the center of the island. We stopped for a meal and a break at a rather fancy hotel that lay in the shadow of an enormous spire of rock, at the top of which was an Indian (as in the Subcontinent) style castle. We were relaxing at this hotel, swimming in the pool eating our lunches, when we heard some loud thumping on the roof. The eating area of the hotel had no walls, so we walked outside and saw at least three-dozen monkeys.Monkey Story7 years ago in Short Stories
They were just sitting there, grooming and eyeing us like we were trying to start some kind of fight. We later learned from the hotel staff that last
warwar8 years ago in Open
When limbs are torn from bodies like papers from a pad
And the smell of rotten corpses makes everyone go mad
Revenge is taken with an eye for an eye, a mum for a dad
When bodies are torn apart and as easily lives are torn asunder
Atrocities of the most horrible kind kill any sense of wonder
Ravens feed on the diceased, instead of sunshine there's thunder
When a whole island shakes under the force of explosions
A nation's heart is smashed into tiny bullet-sized portions
Roaring military planes mess with people's mind and emotions
When howling sirens and thundering gunfire always resound
Any kind of solace not even in music will now be found
Rhapsodies are now bloody, no longer just a bohemian sound
When school buildings are in ruins and future's are at stake
And sleepless people at daytime into a new nightmare awake
Raising a child without protection makes a mother's heart
Open seaOpen sea11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
The water is brushing against my feet
feel the sand tickeling underneath
with a breeze in my hair and the warmth on my skin
I can feel the fire rise from within
with my arms wide open and the sun in my eyes
I'm saying goodbye to a world full of lies
AubergineAubergineAubergine5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
your smooth and perfect skin
richly dark and firm beneath my touch
exotic gift of the eastern world
so full and ripe in my hand
come with me to my kitchen
and fill me up for just one night
TsunamiMalaysian worst Nightmare – Tsunami after destructionTsunami9 years ago in Free Verse
The recent life I've seen was drowning
It is buried under a soul of many hearts
The rooftop of shelters came down falling
It drifts away the love ones
And tears came down rolling
The hope to live was crashed and burned
Into a pile of living dead it turns to ashes
Ashes that floats on nature's liquid
As this war against nature is defenseless
The hands were reaching out from down under
It fades with an impact
That power of nature slams harder
The eyes of ours are salty
From Mother Nature's lovely gift of earth
As it turns nasty
Claiming their hands
On the life that buries
The life of us
Of our love ones
Where they might be
Or far away
Until its impossible to see
As they reach out
From miles away
Never to come back
Never to return
Into our living hands
Portopalo di SiciliaLà donde giacePortopalo di Sicilia5 years ago in Concrete Poetry
la spoglia d'Ecuba,
mugghia il lamento
La spuma, sola, lieve,
li ricopre, e su di essa
grava un silenzio
incantato, di piombo fuso.
Ai pesci le ossa, gli occhi
le storie, gli affetti
ai pesci le molliche
degli uomini negati.
Sotto una lapide d'acqua
anche le onde s'incrinano.
S'ode una preghiera,
un antico canto,
un inno, il medesimo.
E' una desolazione immemore,
taciuta in eterno.
Da bocche di canna il vento
la sparge: è tinta da dita
salmastre, enfie di gemiti.
S'innalza e si frange, inascoltata.
sui figli dimenticati, che insepolti
vomita un identico mare;
l'abisso, poi, li inghiotte. Si chiude.
Li potrai sentire anche tu
nella terra dell'antico Dionisio,
dove la mano dei tiranni
mai tace. Vende e rivende, rimescola.
Sulle acque di Portopalo,
lente le barche scivolano.
ondeggiano. Un qualche dio ignora.
I pescatori continuano a pescare.
Pesca magra, di cadaveri.