100 Words
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Homage
The huge bell rang thrice
Her name echoed in praise
Painted face didn’t stir a muscle
Devoted eyes mirrored her Dagoba’s kotha
Crowds thronged with their palms together
Chief monk blessed the alms giving
She bent down to start serving
Devotees bowed saying, “Bohoma Pin”
Their toothless smiles appalled her,
Weary eyes looked up to see her proud visage.
Tender feet in a hurry than car wheels
I opened the door with habitual respect…
Cherry lips shriek demanding her perfume,
“OMG! Unbearable these vagrants’ body odour”
I drive around Bertolt Brecht’s
Queen Natalia for real.
Homage for vanity indeed!
Rasangi Gajasinghe
University of Sri Jayewardanapura.
To a mother
Pristine white jasmines, frangipani in fuchsia
Yellow hibiscus and purple water lilies
Beautifully arranged in a reed basket
A kaleidoscope of colours,
The fragrance pitching in
To enthrall my senses
In which shrine should it be kept ? I ponder
The hues of maroon, yellow, green and orange
Blending in unison catches my eye
It’s our national flag, fluttering in the breeze
To honour Independence day
Of our paradise isle
With its cascading waterfalls
Sprouting from rustic mountains
Then meandering ribbons of blue
Homage to the most deserving
I offer the basket of flowers to my beloved motherland
Keerthi Wijekulasuriya
A moment of truth
Sometimes, I have to admit with regret
When I am granted the pleasure of seeking
An hour of solitude, as my mind is often
Clouded with a nagging feeling of
Guilt, for my engagement in the pursuit
Of amassing wealth is tainted with
Loathsome malpractices, for I often feel
That I have lost my soul, by abandoning
My youthful companion of virtue,
In preference to an array of
Abominable vices, as I remain terribly
Desolate, simply losing my bearings,
And mercilessly denied of my righteous
Privilege of paying my silent homage
To pilgrims’ panacea of devotees’ idols
Ranjan. M. Amarasinghe
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