KESBEWA TANK i

We walk around the Kesbewa lake
The walk brings out the stories
In us. Two friends sharing anecdotes
and a disorder. The reason why
we are here: The Disorder.
My limbs are flying
The urge to express is drowned
By the bus that booms fast it’s horn
Hounding us

The lake is next to the retreat.
It’s peaceful. The walk at night takes
us to another place. 26 years of friendship
and here we are.
Who would have thought?
at the bandana party in Hikka
That we’d end up like this?
But we are blessed. So, blessed
We have the means, the will, and the way
To heal ourselves as best we can.

I walk alone around the lake
earlier in the afternoon and see
A mixture of rural and suburban.
A man and woman having a well bath
The white redde tied casually around the woman
 the man, his bare chest proudly erect
covered with white foam
his teeth gleaming, smiling big
They both look at me, curiously, then, lose interest.

Next, A businessman’s lunch — the boys
typically dressed in white shirt and ties—advertising types
sneaking a smoke in the back garden their story boards
left to lounge inside waiting for the client to appear
with the inevitable change that will bring to their art.

A tavern sits at the very corner of the lake, adjacent to
The road. I hear loud music and see the empty
Arrack bottles. Further, a café serving coke and chips
Reminds me of SE ASIA the Bamboo built contraption
Looks like so many seen in Manila, Bangkok.

At the bridge, Men fish. One of the men steps along beside
Me to walk… He wants to chat and I am amiable,
But a lack of a shared language prompts him to say bye
at the gate. I open and step in.

N.S. KESBEWA, PILYANDALA

Dedicated to Viren, fellow traveler on this path and, story teller.

 

A Ditty

Hope is sometimes all we got
It’s important to hold onto-
So we don’t lose the Plot
The events unravel slowly
It’s quite a story
(hopefully with a happy ending).
4.4.2015

Naz walks gracefully.

Be an Observer
Don’t be an emotional beggar

Mission in life: Inner Peace

Ditty no 2
Neurological disasters are not
there is always a lemon there–
so count on that–
Don’t get fat contemplating your navel.

P1020639

Sebastian

You are born and,
Champagne is drunk in my room.
The only boy after a spate of girls—
the 4th child in a flock of five

Seb you are much
more than gender identity.
You are one of the most valuable people I have met
And, not because you are our son. In spite of it.

There is a grace about you that is unsurpassed.

Fun and playfulness become you,
you love a joke or two
I so enjoy our talks —
on books, film and music.

or whatever you put your mind to–

You have the best playlists— wink wink
Super driving skills, I’d drive anywhere with you.
I appreciate your vanity, after all,
who does not like to look good?

blame it on Venus in the 1st house

BUT, it’s your kindness and gentleness that I just adore
You are one in a million who could ask for more?
Today you are 21. A man, my son.
A party at Anderson road is what we’d done

To help celebrate your birthdate

The family is sorry that we are not there
you are in college and have plans in the make.
A celebration will happen when you are back home.
So cheers to you and all you do.

Your goodness is so profound it
makes me want to weep, my love for you,
eternal absolute and deep.

Happy Birthday Seb. Hope there is cake.

isaboo & sebastian 3.jpg

I was looking for a recent photo and believe it or not could not find one.
So here’s looking at you, Seb. Gosh you were cute. The girl next to you is pretty cute, too.

The deep blue sea

Go deep, deeper. As deep as you’ve ever imagined.
The rawness from you bursting forth
a ripe open mangosteen
purple juice staining your lips, darkening your tongue
Truth lies there. Lies does too, but lies does not stay for long.
Truth has the wherewithall to come out and play
Sometimes it’s so painful you can’t go on.
It’s Bach at its finest- quick, brilliant, uninterrupted
The piano playing like it’s in love
And after a long time the pain is excellent
At least you think it is
You’re in love and may have lost him
Why am I howling into the wind? It carries me
Over the sea and dumps me at Dead Man’s Cove.
Under the tamarind trees where I meet a man in a speedo
And Bathing cap. I am guessing he hardly has any hair.
I don’t care I keep swimming out there. In the bluest sea I have ever seen
I look down at the clear water and see the sand.
This is where I find my ring. Unbelievable. My wedding ring.
We thought the monkeys had taken off with the loot and vanished.
we celebrate and say our vows rooted to the spot.
Walk soaking wet as husband and wife to the beach
Sit on the deck chairs and drink gin and tonics.

I am From

I am from my mother’s tummy.
from Shanthi and Gwen; Daddy and Mummy
From a decade that all seemed possible.
I am from a time of freedom.
The 1970’s where much was conceivable

I lived in Colombo, Ceylon
Ate mangoes on the verandah
Threw the seeds onto the lawn.
(the magician’s popular party trick)
Waited for the trees to sprout

I am from dusty roads, charging elephants
The smell of whiskey on your mouth
I am from the whir of ceiling fans,
homemade chocolate biscuit pudding.
Ransacked books forever banned

1972 The family fly to Manila
The kids eat frosted flakes for breakfast
(nothing had ever tasted so good)
Accepted at the international school in the neighborhood
Ran track, played basketball, softball and volleyball.

Travelled the country, jumped from Tali cliffs
Into the sea of blue and the secret cave we knew
Ate mushrooms in Boracy, Dove in Mindoro, climbed Taal Volcano.
Smoked Marlboro cigarettes and sipped Tanduay Rum
On a rock in Sagada, a Catholic town

The dog barked loudly; the night after was silent
Dinner was spaghetti with meatballs
The sweetest nourishment, quite magnificent
Back to school to learn that I was
unsuccessful at math’s but aced english exposition.

I am from good friends and a few wonderful mentors.
I am from Lanka the land of my birth that I flew back to live in.
I am from Barefoot that I helped to grow.
I am from my children and husband who give me so much
in their own singular way.

I am from a movement disorder of symptoms that I have normalized.
The fear and panic deep inside healing
I am from Jehan and Angelica, writers, who help me feel
I have good days and bad days,
I am on my way. I am better. I am me.

Melanie

Sessions with Melanie
consist of walks and talks and
serious physiotherapy

Put one foot in front of another
take long strides
now run, walk, run

Can we beat this?
we can, when joy abounds!
the body freezes
distress creeps in

Melanie is there
to pull one up
from impending despair

Box. mind your head
the upper cut,
from the side,
dive, baby dive.

Movement
helps most
train those glutes

What is this?
what are we training
For? Is the disorder out
of order?

Yes. We are ignoring it
out of the box thinking
and hard training will keep
symptoms at bay.

Physiotherapy with Melanie
Is an exercise in discipline.
Manipulation of body brings relief
Mostly, her encouragement brings

Freedom and Confidence.