Reality is a Storm


Storms are like grunge music festivals
They cause havoc for those who like
The country crooners or Bob Dylan’s harmonica. 
And life is never a bed of roses, or lilies or hibiscuses.
No flower can symbolize that grind
That forestalls you before it all begins.
Anticipation is a dark monster and the moment after
A frenzy of synaptic activities, like when a virgin
Decides to take the plunge to the deep end
Not knowing the depths of the swimming pool.
And when the status quo is an ocean on grunge
You caress the eye, like a valium injection,
And pray to St Elmo that the mirage on top
You nickname “hope”, will caress with the same force,
A rope, a line that you draw, to secure
A little place on a jetty, to unload
Your worries, to a wharf with ears.


Author: meandererworld (Dilantha Gunawardana)

Dr Dilantha Gunawardana is a molecular biologist who graduated from the University of Melbourne. He moonlights as a poet. His poems have been accepted/published in Forage, American Journal of Poetry, Kitaab, Eastlit and Ravens Perch. He mixes science with poetry for a living, when what matters is the expression of both DNA and words into something serendipitous. Although an Australian citizen, Dilantha is domiciled in Sri Lanka, his country of birth.

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