Connecting

fascination comes apart
when lovers meet
where do they start
missed phone calls
unread texts
forget the bullshit
snooker the rest

games played
only one
what is left
is the noonday sun.
drunken glasses
evening’s come
forget the masses
where is the fun?

sleepless nights
naked in bed
tossing and turning
politics unfed
desire vanishes
struggles to remain
what once was
is no one’s gain

Dream House

She worked with architects and saw many houses. First, it was in the looking and in the answering of a question thrown here or there by the lead architect of the group. She wasn’t quite taken with the houses she saw- and once in a while she was stumped by a question asked of her. “What makes the acoustics so good in this house?’? Why don’t the stairs have a bannister to hold onto? She thought she knew the answers to the questions, but wasn’t ready to answer—there was something in each question that she questioned. For instance; “why wasn’t there a bannister for the stairs? She could not (yet) understand why an architect would forego practicality and safety for beauty of line and aesthetics. She mentioned that to the head architect, who erroneously told her she was stupid and if she was going to question a left out bannister, she was nowhere ready to become an architect! She took umbrage to that and decided to leave his apprentice and apply to join another. He was angry, or rather his ego was hurt, that he let her go without writing a recommendation. She left, and in a week, she was snapped up by her former bosses rival architectural practice. That very day after a breakfast meeting of coffee (delivered from Kopi Kade) and donuts: glazed, sugared and in a multitude of colours) he told his students that he was taking them to visit some houses that he had designed along with his partner. Standard practice she thought and on her very first day as well. They drove down the streets of Colombo, until they were in Colombo 3. The driver turned right on Damien place and pulled over to the right halfway down the street. That was the defining moment when Julie saw her dream house. She could tell by the quake in her knees, the butterflies at the pit of her stomach and the goose pimples all over her body. She got out of the car and closed the door and walked slowly to the front door.

 

 

Isabella at 21

IMG_9744

Isabella at 21
Is very beautiful
kind and all woman
she nurtures she cares
for everyone.
Her nature from birth

Has been one of
A sunny disposition.
She is also very smart
(she doesn’t think so)
But, we know so.

Her self-depreciating characteristic
Is typical of a Ceylonese
Especially from an Anglican
School
Such as Ladies College.

Isabella is a bella
The belle of the ball
In my book for sure
I would cast her
As the central character
She is unique

Extremely likeable
And resourceful.
21 years old.  I’ve had the
pleasure of spending
quality time
with her in Melbourne
for a week.

I note that she is interested in most things
Especially the arts
After we shopped we sat down and listened
To a musician busking
She then pointed out the MOMA exhibit
And there is one in Brunswick.

She has left me now in Melbourne.
She has gone back to Brisbane
I’ll be leaving on a plane
This Friday. Back to where I came from
Where Isabella was born
CEYLON

NOTES

black record vinyl

Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán on Pexels.com

Music matters like nothing else

The sensual embrace of notes in your hair
The fringe to your mane
The trumpet coming alive Miles Davis
The Stylistics, the brand new in me.
Fully flowed with expansion of love
Gladness, joy, the zest of life. The bloom of life
The glorious life, the glamorous life
Bill Evans. John Coltrane My Funny Valentine.
That’s me.

What Matters

What matters? The Sun, the moon and the stars. Love. The best kind. Unconditional, gentle, considerate and deep. Sex. Erotic, sensual, in unison. Babies in all their innocence. Family: the ties that bind us. Creating, creating original works that the world has yet to witness. Music matters. Meditation matters. Meditation is what will see us through. Exercise, yoga, specifically. Integrity matters. Integrity in action is authentic. Focus concentration and discipline will work. Find your light, shine with loving kindness, be mindful, be happy, may all beings be happy. People matter. Saying sorry matters, hard work matters. What matters is that we write. One day I hope to see my writing published in the form of a book. What matters? Matter, matters. Without matter, we won’t matter. No matter.

glen.jpg

 

 

 

BE HERE NOW

 

BE HERE NOW

Be here now.
Said my father
How? I asked?
Puzzled by it’s
Seemingly simple
But complex notion
I am here
Isn’t it obvious?

No. My father, said
Your mind is all
Over the place
To be here now
One must truly
Be present.

In body mind and soul
At one with oneself
And the universe
Be here now ridicules
running away
From life experiences
And responsibilities

That’s when the anxiety
Sets in. the anxiety reminds
Me to feel
Really feel
The moment
Love truth anguish

Be here now
Is difficult
As the mind
Listens to the music
In the background
Be here now is interrupted
By Ashira walking in.

So all I can conclude
From this exercise
Is that to be here now
Is not easy.
It demands concentration.
A brain that focuses
Under different circumstances
I am all over the place
But here. Not here.

Usually , over there…