King Lear


Perhaps I’m wearing King Lear’s crown
With no sails or propellers or a lone oar to carry me through

And amidst the mutinies of my lobes
And hulls emptied of hope

And clarity draining through storm sewers
I will be the quintessential falling birdman

Madness will ransack my closet drawers
And leave with collections of clutter

Like a garbage bin filled to the brim
Where crows will sit on top and feast

And soon the clay pot on the scarecrow’s head
Will burst like a Claymore mine

And my pieces will scatter like sown rice grains
And the crows will sit and clap like royalty

As I’m dragged through the stage-front
In my curtain call to my own sanity


Published by

meandererworld (Dilantha Gunawardana)

Dr Dilantha Gunawardana is a molecular biologist, who graduated from the University of Melbourne. He moonlights as a poet. Dilantha wrote his first poem at the ripe age of 32 and now has more than 1700 poems on his blog. His poems have been accepted/published in Forage, Kitaab, Eastlit, American Journal of Poetry and Ravens Perch, among others. He was also awarded the prize for "The emerging writer of the year - 2016" in the Godage National Literary Awards, Sri Lanka for his first collection of poems (Kite Dreams – A Sarasavi Publication), while being shortlisted for the poetry prize. Dilantha is a dual citizen of Sri Lanka and Australia, and shares his experiences from two different cultures. He blogs at - https://meandererworld.

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