100 word - CLAY
The Mystery
A lump of clay
The Statue
Clay-palaces
My clay pot
St. Francis of Assisi
Lump of clay
The Mould
Clay
A for apple, B for ball...
Thank you for sending in your work to the '100 word' page on clay.
We would like to remind our readers to please restrict their work to a
100 words.
The theme for November is "Down". Please send in your contribution before
the of November 17 to:
Madhubhashini Ratnayake
C/o The Sunday Times
P.O. Box 1136
Colombo.
The Mystery
The bewitching scent of flowers,
How their perfection charms
The sparkle on the waters
On a dappled morn
Resonant with the chirp, warble
And pizzicato of bird-song,
A mother calling through
The misty aubade-soft, sweet,
Reassuring: Then her touch-
A resurgence:
Oh the morning!
I do not know, oh, no!
How all this could be
In the primordial clay.
- Ben Beddewela.
A lump of clay
My little daughter made a head of clay,
Then gave the thing away
To me.
I put it on the window sill in front
Of my desk, with sky and tree
And moving cloud beyond.
At first I hardly noticed it - a rough-shaped head
That could belong to either man or beast.
But seeing it there both day and night
In changing patterns
Of shadow and light
And travelling with me
In the mind's reflected eye
On all my mental journeys
This discarded piece of forgotten play
Became a symbol -
My love
Caged in a lump of clay.
- Anne Ranasinghe
The Statue
It withstood,
The scorching heat
And
The frigid cold
Only to shatter
In seconds
Of lost equilibrium.
- Priyangika L. Gamage
Clay-palaces
I was enchanted,
Watching the sun set,
On the beach,
The kids, along with their
Families,
Were playing with sand.
Making sand-houses.
Every time they tried,
They were washed by the
Ocean waves.
I remember the life
We spent in the village.
We used to play with clay
Making clay - palaces.
They were stable
Nothing was there to wash them away.
But in real life
Only our own dream
Palaces break down
Their clay palaces
Sand houses
- Asangi Kodituwakku.
My clay pot
You were my
Clay pot,
I thought...
Mild and soft
and cool forever....
I painted it
With unearthly colours
and put golden roses
Scented with love....
But when my fingers
Made a little slip
You fell and
broke into pieces....
Now I think
How nice it would have been
If you had been of
Tempered steel
- Pabodanee.
St. Francis of Assisi
He stood, alone, in his robes of coarsened jute
His eyes, keen - his face, resolute
Then, began the lonely walk upon the marbled floor
Beneath the glorious dome by Michelangelo
He asked, to start a 'sect' of lowly dress
While, the Ring, to his lips he reverently pressed.
"I'm not at ease with golden robes, the Mitre, I covet not
Nor do I wish to 'break-away' as did the Hugeonots.
For at the 'Last Supper', when humbly, He did pray
He held not a chalice of gold, but a humble cup of clay".
- Janine
Lump of clay
You picked me up from the rabble
I'm your lump of clay
You gave life to.
Mold me into any shape or size
Your taste I do respect.
Paint as you desire
I've known only muddy hues.
Decorate me as you please
I may never mind.
Value me as you wish
You can do no wrong.
But leave my soul untouched
Be it ever so humble.
- Thushara Chathuranga
The Mould
I moulded you in my fashion,
Eyes that saw, cloud drifts I saw,
Ears that heard my music
And lips that whispered inanities
Coined by me.
A heart that beat to rhythms
Pulsed by me,
And a head that swirled
With spendthrift signals
Moving in borrowed time,
Until the great storm howled
And tore through my frail design,
Leaving me holding a lump of clay
Which was neither yours nor mine.
- Usula. P. Wijesuriya
Clay
At 3, she went to pre-school
Her prized possession
A new packet of plasticine,
She shaped ducks and cats,
Houses and boats
With her tiny deft fingers.
Thru' her teens
She moulded her character
Shaped her future
Practised a harsh religion
To meet every challenge in life.
At 20, she met him
She loved him and adored him,
Swept away by his rhetoric
A mug of clay in his hands -
She didn't resist shaping
He drank to his fill,
Too late she realized
The idol she had worshipped
Had feet of clay.
- Thilaha Yoganathan
A for apple, B for ball...
If you thought you were well and truly beyond the stage of ABC get ready
for a new and revised rendition of the alphabet. A for Autumn Leaves, G
for Ganga Addara, S for Sinna Sinna Asai and U for Unchained Melody...courtesy
'Alphabetically yours'.
'Alphabetically yours' - an evening of music, song and dance will feature
an A-Z line up of items in all three different languages for every letter
of the English alphabet. Ranging from toe tapping numbers like 'kiss me
quick', 'Quando Quando' to hip swinging dances with on stage Jive and Baila
. The interesting line-up will see popular artistes like Nihal de Silva,
Prasad Fernando, Sweethangani Perera, Premila Perimpanayagam, Swinly Perera,
Surekha Amerasinghe, Lancelot Perera, Clifford Richard, Dr. Prashanthi
Mendis (only lady to play the Carribean Steel drums in Sri Lanka) and Indranie
Wijesundere of the group 'Friends in Harmony'; joined by the El Latino
Dance World and Rajini's Dance Troupe. Adding a new dimension to the programme
will be leading pianist Ramya de Livera Perera, joined by Indranie Wijesundere
on two pianos.Presented by the Old Girls' Association of Methodist College,
'Alphabetically Yours' will go on boards on Saturday, November 3, at the
College Auditorium. The show is produced by Mrs. Nazli Zuhyle, a live wire
of the OGA who has produced shows such as 'Among my souvenirs', 'Come September',
'Songs to Remember' and 'Family Harmony' in the past. Tickets will be available
at the College office. |
