The dire landscape of a no man’s land
Where the macaques make busy jumps
From tree to tree. Palmyra grow
Like pillars with canopy. An intersection
Of ethnicities, where a little excavation
Will unfold bones pealed of flesh.
War is just a cannibal; it is famished
Of loathe and bites the very flesh that searches for a banquet
Of corpses. The hyenas have no pride
Nor does the vulture. Nor does a history
That counts absent heartbeats
On excavation sites. Time is only a victim
Of acrimony, of the sheer parsimony
Of love. Still they make Palmyra jaggery
And paint their faces with brown moons
Which turn to a cold indifferent blue
Like cyanide painted tongues.


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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