Three Poems of Sri Lanka

The Sounds of Sri Lanka

I hear the cries of the innocents from the north and south.
I hear the voices of politicians clamoring for power and money.
I hear the vibrations of explosions.
I hear the communal chanting by the clergy.
I hear the drums of victory and the funeral trumpet .
I hear the shouts of the poor asking for food and medicine..
I hear the moaning of the sick from the war zone.
I hear the roaring of planes and shells.
I hear the voice of an astrologer warning the fate of Lanka.

By: "A Listener"
(P.Kulendiren) 2nd August 1996.
http://www.tamilcanadian.com/entertainment/poems/lanka.html

Those are the days...

Those are the days when Gunasingam and Gunatillake had Galoya together.
Those are the days when one could walk in the middle of the night from Dehiwala to Dematagoda.
Those are the days when Somanathan and Somasiri exchanged chemistry notes.
Those are the days when Ratnasingam and Ratnasiri exchanged gingely oil and kitul pani.
Those are the days when we never heard of Terrorism, Fanaticism, Communalism, and all the isms.
Those are the days when Kandiahs cigar shop in the south and Kalu Bandas bakery in the north were popular.
Those are the days when every one enjoyed Vesak, Pongal and Christmas together.
Those are the days when we never heard of army checks other than the salary cheques.
Now are the days to reap the harvest for the political sins that were committed in the five decades.
Now are the days to accumulate wealth at the expense of human lives.
Now are the days to make promises but never honour them.
Now are the days to use the poor to cling to power.
Now are the days that you live in fear and tear.

By: "A dreamer"
P.Kulendiren ,
Toronto, Ontario, Canada.
1st August 1996.

Koneswari's

Her killings yesterday
Did not pain me
How can I feel pain
When feelings are frozen
My dear Tamilian women
What have you done
For peace in this Isle?
So, come forth
And take off your clothes
Stay yourself naked
You too my mother

Open up your vagina
For the fighters of peace,
The successes to the Buddha
Where else can they
Spill their perversions

Warriors! Come
Satisfy your carnal desires
Right behind me is
My school-going sister
Is it all over
don't stop

With that
Tomorrow's generation
Might sprout through
Our raping

Therefore,
Blast their vaginas with
Grenades
Gather every bit
And bury them very deep
So that our race may not
Sinhalese sisters
Your vaginas
Need no services
Now

BY KALA from Vavuniya (Published in SARINIHAT - June 05 -1997) Translated by K.S Sivakumaran

Koneswari, a mother of three children, from Colony 11, was killed after sexual assault by 10 policemen and by blasting a grenade planted in her vagina on 17.05 1997