They do indeed
One day...Not sunny, nor gloomy
at a dust washed park bench, where
I used to meet my shadow, and
talk about circles until recently
I met this innocent bystander
a poet and a preacher, he was
sitting on the wooden bench, silent
doing nothing except counting clouds
'What's you doing, O' innocent bystander? '
'Is you counting the bastards up on you? '
Ignored me completely, he carried on counting
wearing a blank expression on top of an empty one
Give up that easy, I absolutely did not
sat next to him, hoping for the best
looking up at the few grey splatters
trying to fix some connection between us
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poem by Pamuditha Zen Anjana
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Cluttered
I've been thinking in circles and triangles
trying to help you figure out the feelings
mine were already figurative to you, but
added yourself, subtracted him and divided by me
equation would've been balanced for the time being
Oh! But to you, my love was just, an aura
never seen before, a touch never felt in the heart.
it was there even before the time itself existed
nothing to change about it, turn around,
crawl back or change myself in that case
More of that or lesser self-respect
then enter the heroine, not the drug
but in a way you were, I was addicted
I wasn't the villain, not the hero either
not in your eyes at least, sigh! Smiles
I watched it all burn upon my inner eye
triangles and squares, feets and acres,
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poem by Pamuditha Zen Anjana
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Metamorphosis
Within myself, I feel something stirring...
I feel the presence of some anonymity,
the work of some unknown force,
awakening!
In comparison, I feel I'm still, and still...
like the calm sea before a storm,
like the silenced forest before a predator,
striking!
Deep inside, upon my inner eye, flashes...
the darkest and the yet to be discovered,
the hidden and the deepest depths,
unveiling!
In Retrospect, I get a feeling, like...
I'm missing the most important keynotes,
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poem by Pamuditha Zen Anjana
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2090 - The Journey of an immortal
Having a third eye
in front of your forehead
is strictly disturbing!
I told him,
And what are those things?
wrapped around all over your body
Oh they are snakes!
it doesn't help a bit either!
I added.
What was your name again?
You filthy immortal with a cursed mouth!
He asked without any voice.
Me...! Umm...
I'm just an innocent bystander,
was just passing by and saw you,
sitting here all alone by the woods!
BTW why are you alone like this?
It doesn't feel right in any way!
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poem by Pamuditha Zen Anjana
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