Shani the young poetess from Massachusetts

She knows much but talks very less
And she attached to us before we leave for California.
I learned a lot of things in this fragile life from her innocent smile
And it's a hidden poem really that never published.

* I dedicate this poem in gratitude to her courageous family who gave us tremendous help as same as hospitality in our hard times in the USA.

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Familiar voices echo from Massachusetts!

*Shani the young poetess from Massachusetts;
I dedicate this poem in gratitude to her courageous family who gave us tremendous help as same as hospitality in our hard times in the USA.
They are in-laws of my daughter.............and our friends too.

'Hello Grandma & Grandpa!
We're already here.(Grandson Siluna, Daughter Thilini & Son-in-law Chinthaka)
Our Grandson called us and he wants to know when we go there and see them?
Yes, that's our endless dream and not yet finished.
Our eldest daughter & Son-in-law, Tharindu & Kelum in Australia
When they join us and sing together?
Oh! What a great comfort?
Then one day the old couple could have rest in peace hand-in-hand quietly
With a big permanent smile for a Toothpaste advertisement!

P.S.
Sonny! America is a big ripen Orange and we're small ants.I have already quitted smoking and I want to check your poor old Grandma's piggy till that how much she has saved for the journey? Really I must have an iron wallet otherwise these tricky coloured notes would fly always.
I must mention the name of poetess from West Virginia/my life-school teacher Sandra Fowler(West Virginian Nightingale) for her devotional prayers and our utmost gratitude!

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A letter like a poem

Really I feel this is not a resignation
And some kind of a gratitude.
The destiny has forced us to leave Anaheim
And we have to reach Corona soon.
I am so sad to leave 'Montessori at Elm'.
Because it's my life school and I learned a lot
Mixing with dolls like kids.
I take this opportunity to thank you very much for your hospitality
Given to me in my hard times and I never forget that huge help.
Also I never forget the comfort I had under the shady trees at 'Elm'.
Please convey my loving regards to the kind staff
And specially for my loving precious kids and their parents too.
I end this brief letter with a tear dropp in my eye
And I am terribly sick these days.
I wish you all the best and a rapid progress to the school.
Thank you very much,
Yours very truly............................*

* My beloved spouse sketched this letter in our mother tongue
And she wants to dedicate this poem-letter to Ms.Cassendra.Wijewickrama

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A Poem Is Just A Poem

a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem

a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about

anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's

poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be

a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice

thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist

on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,

need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem

it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so

this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.

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For Every Time There Is A Poem

FOR EVERY TIME THERE IS A POEM

For every time there is a poem
And for every season also
For life there is a poem
And for the end of life
For what we love and what we hate
For what we are and what we are not
For our vanity and for our most caring love
For our goodness and for our failings in goodness
For what is and what is not
For what was and what will be
For all things and times and seasons
There is a poem –

But perhaps
Beyond what our mind and reason can know
There is a time too
When no poem
However good or great or wise
Can speak of what we feel-

No poem as deep as the silence of Awe
And Gratitude to G-d.

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The Poem Of All The Places I Have Never Been

THE POEM OF ALL THE PLACES I HAVE NEVER BEEN

The poem of all the places I have never been
The poem of all the dreams I have not seen
The poem of others poems written in lines I have never imagined
The poem of the infinite – what-is- not and ‘what- will- never- be
The poem of seas and suns and sounds and Shakespeare’s sonnets,
The poem of words and only words whose sounds do not mean what we feel
The poem of all I would not and cannot write
The poem that is not and never will be in me
The poem I do not write
The poem I am not
The poem lost
The poem which itself is not a poem
The poem of the last contradiction and the first
The poem beyond the poem hidden within the poem
The poem which will never be a poem
The poem which is not
The poem I cannot dream.

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Nothing..

This poem is not about love..
This poem is not about pain..
This poem is not about the things i have learned...

This poem is not for the broken hearted..
This poem is not for the ones seeking help..
This poem is not for the depressed...
This poem is for no one,
Because no one can contain nothing...

This poem is not filled with wisdom..
This poem was not written with love...
This poem was not written for a lover nor a brother...

This poem was nothing special...
Not quite remarkable....
But it is nothing because that what it was...
Nothing and it will never be anything...

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This Poem

THIS POEM

This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.

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The Poem Of The Sea Is For Me in Tel Aviv Today

THE POEM OF THE SEA IS FOR ME IN TEL AVIV TODAY
BET CHOL HAMOED PESACH 5762

The poem of the sea is for me today
The poem of longing and beauty
It is the poem of light
Of distance
It is the poem of waves unceasing
And colors dreaming their changes faster than they can be named-

The poem of the sea is for me
On this day
A poem of return and happiness
A poem of being with my family-

It is too a poem of memories
How thirty- five years ago just beginning
I came to the same sea alone
And wondered how
If I would ever have a family of my own
Then young in love
And later losing love
And then returning alone
And now again here
With a daughter her husband and my granddaughter

The poem of the sea is for me
On this day
A poem of Love and Gratitude to God
Of longing and beauty of light of distance
And happiness.

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Recuerdo de Amor (Memories of Love)

I have loved and hurt
The poem can tell
I have laughed and cried
The poem can tell
I have sung and danced
The poem can tell
I have stumbled and strived
The poem can tell
I learned and grew
The poem can tell
But the memories are kept
for me to reminisce and smile
The poem can tell

8th April 2009

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Poem.

I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,

I like the story.

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Poem.

I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,

I like the story.

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To My Dearest Mother

For the love of unforgoting times.
For the pains of sleepless night.
For those little words that gave me life.
For all the chancy moment you stand firm.
To you my dearest mother
i dedicate this poem.

O my mother
you are to me rare entity.
My only one who need no
touch of glamour.
Beautiful you are in all forms.
You're in itself a poem too
wonderful for words.

O mother
You who press me to her
bossom feeding me with love and pity.
You who held me up when
i fall and cheer me up when i stand.
To you my dearest mother,
i dedicate these poem.

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This is a poem....

This isn't a poem of one direction,
This is a poem about perfection.
This isn't a poem about who won the election,
This is a poem about correction.
This isn't a poem of getting it right,
This is a poem of standing up to fight.
This isn't a poem of being lost like a kite,
This is a poem about trying to find the light.
This isn't a poem of running tears,
This is a poem about chasing your fears.
This isn't a poem of love and hate,
This is a poem of destiny and fate.
This isn't a poem of the end,
This is a poem of a heart unable to mend.
This isn't a poem of cruilty and pain,
This is a poem of a thng i need to gain.
This isn't a poem of shame,
This is a poem of fame.
Thsi isn't a poem of the life i let loose,
THIS IS A POEM OF THE TRUTH.

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A Poem Just For You

Today I decided to write a poem just for you
So I sat down with pen in hand, and began to
Carefully consider in which way I could express to you
All the things you mean to me,

First I thought to write a poem about your radiant smile,
All about how you easily outshine the sun.
Or perhaps a poem about our friendship,
All about the kind things you do that fill my heart.
A poem about how grateful I am to have you in my life
All about how I thank God every day for putting you here.

But I decided to write this poem on something else
All about something that is a poem in itself
A poem that simply says I love you
A poem just for you.

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A Poem Of The Sea Is For Me Today in Tel Aviv Chol Ha- Moed Pesach 5762

THE POEM OF THE SEA IS FOR ME TODAY IN TEL AVIV CHOL HAMOED PESACH 5762

The poem of the sea is for me today
In Tel Aviv Chol Ha- Moed Pesach 5762
The poem of longing and beauty
It is the poem of light
Of distance
It is the poem of waves unceasing
And colors dreaming their changes faster than they can be named-

The poem of the sea is for me
On this day
A poem of return and happiness
A poem of being with my family-

It is too a poem of remembrance-
How thirty- five years ago just beginning
I came to the same sea alone
And wondered how
If I would ever have a family of my own -

Then young in love
And later losing love
And then returning alone
And now again here
With a daughter her husband and my granddaughter

The poem of the sea is for me
On this day
A poem of Love and Gratitude to God-

Of longing and beauty of light of distance
And happiness.

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The Poem The Poem And The Poem Again

THE POEM‘ THE POEM AND THE POEM AGAIN’

‘The poem the poem and the poem again’
Isn’t there any life without poetry?
Why is it always ‘The poem the poem the poem’?

Let it be some other dream
Or some other small facet of our endless realities
Why always ‘The poem the poem the poem? ’

The poet who lives and dies for the poem
Is only one kind of poet
And perhaps not even a good one.

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If I Had Only One Poem To Write

If I had only one poem to write
What would it be?
Gratitude to God?
Love of Family?
The dreams of Childhood?
Israel?
America?
The long morning and the longer night?

We are all so many poems
We struggle to find the true one-
Perhaps there is no way to be silent
And have only one poem about what we have been given.

Gratitude to God.

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A Ode Poem To You

My mother gave me an ode poem, oh how I love that poem
The scene of her perfume on it, the picture of me in her arms
This letter I keep with me all the time, I love it so much I sleep with it under my pillow
To her nice hand writing, to the black ink she wrote in, she wrote until her ink went low

My poem is great, my poem is wonderful, to the white paper she wrote on it’s beautiful
To the green words of the title, my poem she gave me is the best
I love how she gave the lip stick print on the top of my poem, sad to say she's at rest
I will always love the poem she gave to me before she passed

To the words in the poem she gave me will always endure
Word by word my lovely poem is speaking to me gratefully
This ode poem was from my mom and for only me sincerely
I love my poem, oh how wonderful it can be

Its so wonderful do you want to read,
Take a look, take a look and you will see

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A Poem Is Not The Answer To Everything

A POEM IS NOT THE ANSWER TO EVERYTHING

A poem is not the answer to everything-
Perhaps it is not the answer to anything
Though I wouldn't take it that far-
There have been times
When a poem was the answer-
Many times
A poem written by someone else
A poem I tried to write by myself-

Poems can be an answer
Perhaps not for most things
Perhaps not for all the major things
But for moods and pains and feeling
And desire for Beauty
Poems can be answers at time-
A poem is not really the answer to my problem of the moment now
But it is an answer of a kind anyway
Thank God for poems and for this poem also.

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The Poem About The Poem About The Poem

THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM

The poem about the poem about the poem
Written in dream
And forgotten in sleep
Comes back to me slowly now
As if it had been away on a long long journey
And is reluctant to come home-

I write it
But it really writes me
And when I try to make sense of what it means
It tells me its ambiguities
Are more important and interesting
Than my clarity-

The poem about the poem about the poem
Written now
May not be a poem about a poem about a poem at all
But may merely be my own playing with words
Which take the place in my life
Of really living-

A poem about a poem about a poem?
Surely this is a mysterious thing
If it exists at all.

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