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Solitary
kingdom
The sun rises
The sun sets
She is still
Gazing towards the footpath,
Until in the twilight the fields are
Almost dark,
Bushes and trees stand out dead black,
And the oil lamp becomes dimmer and dimmer,
And the moonbeams peep through the cadjan...
A cicada sings a grievous song,
She is still gazing, sitting on the
Bench besides the dried mango tree.
The birds have flown away
From the nest.
The mango tree will not bear fruit again.
K.K.G.I. Dilmini
All
mine
This is
my kingdom,
I’m the queen of it
All the scraps of it
Belong to me and
Only to me.
There is a secret
Sh!
I have two treasures
In my kingdom
‘Love’ and ‘happiness’
Yes... they
Belong to me and only to me
I say it again
I’m the queen of my kingdom
Don’t try to smuggle out my treasures
But... If you can be my hero
You can smuggle out
My heart from me
Then you’ll also be a treasure of my kingdom and
Belong to me.
Only to me.
A.H.G. Shanika Udari
The
kingdom is yours...
The kingdom
is yours
When you define endless dreams
In this cynical, non-believing world.
It is there in the rustle of
An age-old memory,
Arriving at the moment of sunset,
When your soul rises with the comprehension
That life is inexplicable, immortal, beautiful.
Its path lies along,
The sparkle of a lone star,
A strain of a maiden’s song,
Voyaging through endless miles.
The kingdom is yours, when you
Behold your destiny,
In a pair of unknown eyes.
Nipuni Ranaweera
With
apologies to Tagore
Where
the mind is full of fear
And the head is held low
Where knowledge is costly
Where the world is ever broken up
Into fragments by narrow domestic walls
Where words come from a miasma of egotism and hypocrisy
Where tireless the crowd strives for corruption
In discipline and exploitation
Where the clear stream of reason has already
Lost its way
Into the dreary desert-sand of criminality, and sadism
Where the world is led forward by rampant
Imbecility into greed porcine
From this vile, vicious Kingdom, Father
May we be released!
R.M.B. Beddewela
Rebellion
I should
very much like
To be queen of my world.
If only for one day,
Obliterate your presence,
And watch my kingdoms rise
Above your seas of grim control,
Walls shimmering with my achievements,
And resounding with my victories.
But next to your solidity
I am but a mirage,
And I want my dominion to be
Shiftless like stone.
Each day I would struggle
To make a stand,
Before the world shuts me out.
Me, with my talk of rebellion
And my ideas of love.
I would need sterner stuff
With which to build my castles
Shivanthi Balasuriya
Kingdoms
lost
Once there
were kings
Who built some cities,
And destroyed others.
Some of them were even called ‘great’
Despite the death and destruction they caused.
They conquered for their greater glory
And to build empires
No, they never pretended otherwise.
Now they destroy
lands and people
For the good of the conquered
Dead, maimed, starving, sorrowing,
Hopeless and helpless against the aggressors.
But now the world
Abhors such arrogance.
So, the conquerors make promises.
Men, women, and children
Who survived, wait, but
Never see the promised land.
D. de Silva
Crumbling
kingdom
This is
my kingdom.
No intruder dares enter
Because that will mean
Bloodshed and battle.
There will not be a greater monarch
Than I am, on this earth´s surface.
The glory of the kingdom will find its
Way beyond boundaries of the empire
Stories of its fame and riches
Will marvel the world.
Those were my thoughts once
Young and victorious
Now as I lie feeble and helpless
With dark days ahead
I wake each day to see
The fall of a kingdom once glorious.
Lahiru Gangoda
Little
queen
Beneath the shade
Of a huge Margosa tree,
In the backyard,
Surrounded by
Scattered lemon and ginger bushes,
On a carpet of Desmodium grass
So comfortable and cool,
Stands her little Kingdom
Of dolls, toys and cuddly pets.
Crockery and cutlery
Of numerous shapes;
Make-believe things.
Broken cups and saucers...
Always surrounded by
Heavy-scented ginger and lemon blossoms,
And the fragrance of wild jasmines
That adorn her curly crown
The little Queen, with her maid -
A fluffy little orange cat,
Walks with an easy step
Buoyant, full of life
With all the sweetness of a real queen,
To her Royal Assembly
To her dream kingdom
To sit on her swinging throne
That hangs from a strong Margosa branch!
Sriyanthanie Jayawardena
Thank you for
all your contributions to this page on ‘Kingdoms’. The
theme for November is ‘Touching’. Please send in your
contributions before October 25 to
Madhubhashini Ratnayake
C/o The Sunday Times
8, Hunupitiya Cross Rd,
Colombo 2. |
