SKY ABOVE AND HELL BELOW

Whence the ridge in the sky o’ped,
Parted heaven ways like the drifting tide,
Whence they face; fair, beauteous with jewels in thy eyes,
Came before me and spake
Ambrosia for my ears, thy orchestral song:
Whence thy presence threw a relief upon my features
Yearning, grappling for thy touch
Whence hand extended, you lifted my being
Wings heavy with gathering dew:
And before ye I build an altar, oh sky
Where the heavens play and Valhalla sways
Upon the diurnal pinnace to where I fly!
Thy colors, light, heathen, scatter about me
And shroud my soul in thy wondrous enchantment!
Oh to be a dweller of the sky, land and sea
Whence beauty can be admired as Truth weaves in
Roping me to thy solitude, serenity
Building the domes in the sky high, my resting place
Painting the arches, my intricate repast
Dictating my being to thy worship, earthly incense
Is lighted and drifting to you upon the yon verdant breeze
The palate refined: it parts leaving behind
Echoes of the deepest hues woven in with light airy fantasies:
The sky commands, I am thy eremite!
The sky commands; my worship and admiration
And it is to thee, divine being that my escape escapes to
And seals my fleeing breath to roam above the layers of clouds
And beneath the dancing archway of the stars…

Harlequinade
[It was unusually bright- the lurid colors of the car paint and buildings stare back at me. Somehow the shadow was gone- I know not where it went, but everything was bright, bright, and bright. Only the sky which even in the shadow looked bright and acceptable didn’t mock me with its corn blue canvas and soft while feathery dreams forming the arch-way I couldn’t reach]
[The shadow, the darkness was replaced and everything seemed to be painted in decadent shocking yellows and horrible pinks- it was much too bright for my eyes]

-------------------------------------Harlequinade; my mask melts in the
exorcising light-----------------------------------------------

(I heard my voice say: )

I tried to hide. I couldn’t bear those lights, so very bright; I could see the thick layer of plaster on Her face MELT. But it wasn’t like my mask. My mask was colored with dull reds, dark blues and pitch blacks. They grey slits were for my eyes and the dull brown my lips. HER face was melting with a fake yellow, pink, red, crimson painted, dolled up lips…they were like candy, sickeningly sweet and yet so addictive.

(I hears a dim agreement echo in the background: )
SHE was melting like a rainbow, bright colors dripping down her face. When she turned to look at me, smile and try to hold up a conversation, it was like watching a melting rubber mask, with features printed awry—DRIP DRIP!!—moving her lips and averting her eyes. As if she’s afraid to look at me! Afraid to see that I too could see her masque melting, her fake sugary coat giving me a toothache.

(He puts down his cigarette and surveys me intensely, eyes sparkling up like coals)
(I continue: )

It was nauseating. I could see the coats and cloaks of superficiality cover THEM up, in a splendid rainbow, sparkling bright, white white light! White for purity, for flawlessness. But in my life, white doesn’t exist.
(I remove my mask. The lights are dimmed)

The lights had to be dimmed, for I am so afraid that you will look at me, and like a book drink up my every word. I don’t want to lay bare my chest of wonders for you to gape at. But here’s my mask. I give it to you for I feel I can trust you. I can, cant it? Of course I can…

(Echoes: of course I can!)

Don’t look at me that way- yes even I have something I want to conceal but look at my mask, the devils fangs are what made this. Wonderful material is it not? So sturdy. But now I give it to you…how different am I from her? Yes, I too am melting but it depends on the colors you paint your world with. Pastels don’t exist, not necessarily unless you want them to. But I dare not, no I don’t give a jot for reality either. But then…what am I? )
(Introspective)
What am I?
(My voice grows faint)
SHE is painted differently, but this light…does she fear light as much as I do? Is that why she hides and makes herself so agreeable just so that she is liked and accepted?
But even I wear a mask, my dull mask but I don’t want those ugly pseudo faces. I want to keep myself hidden…but why am I telling you this?

(I grab my mask. The lights flicker and I catch a look of horror as you look at my face, my REAL face)
Go away! Who are you?

(Echoes: who are you?)
(I look closer at the person seated in front of me, shock mirrored on his face…but he escapes like an illusion…he melts into the air leaving behind a trail of faery dust…just melts!)
Are you even there? Were you listening to my harlequinade?

[The stage is empty and the lights slowly dim into that decaying ardor she viewed the world in previously. It was faint light and dim shadows that cloaked her once more...she cries:]

To my harlequinade!

What happened to me was simply exhilarating- I saw my pores widen (or perhaps it was the lack of hair?) and then the lights wrapped themselves around like a glove, like my very skin and then like the moon revealing herself while the clouds combine to dramatize her radiance, I saw a small dull gold spot expanding and then faster than racing light engulf me entirely. I raised my hand, now bronze and touched my face and then in apprehension my hair. My hand ran down my hair which was twice its length and falling past my shoulders like a black cascade.
I closed my eyes. This was too surreal. What am I? Is this a strange necrologue? I couldn’t come to a conclusion. I didn’t have one- is there ever one?
Possibilities- once more they strike me down.
I closed my fists and opened them again, my dark eyes lighting up like a liquid jewel. I felt--- elevated! A strange whirring at the back of my head made me look around alert- but silence: for there is nothing here.
Except me, and the only sound I heard was in my head- growing louder, louder, deafening!!
I was oblivious to everything as a series of images flashed in my mind. With every passing image I grew, my mind brushing away past ignorance in an enlightened cadence. I felt the loosening of chains, I felt as if my head grew heavier but at the same time I felt lighter- I felt enlightened.
I look down- everything made sense and at that moment...the voice spoke to me and I knew- I was the lightening and he is my companion. It was love of which he spoke- and I cried, his words ringing so sweet in my ears.

It rained gently at first and then my joy swept over and I cried more as the Earth welcomed me.

Love- is everywhere, it’s the elements, it’s their song, it’s the Earth whether she be rocky, smooth or barren. Love is eternal, love is omnipresent and I have found my abode…

Those times where you wish you had a concrete reality, a set of rules that you would mindlessly follow, almost like school where they trained you to be lead and conform-I almost wish this was one of those times; I almost wish I had a definite reality to follow.
Uncertainty, the unease you felt as a child is perhaps why I am now so…afraid? It’s a subconscious reaction- being forced to follow a bunch of petty rules was how I grew up. I was made to abandon my childhood haunts of stealing mangoes, climbing the roofs and trees and forced to grow up; outside this paradigm there was nothing for me, nothing certain and that is what I feared.
What if, what if, what if…possibilities! I have never been one to be satisfied with one possibility and even though everything doesn’t always make sense, it doesn’t mean they are not worth considering right?
Right, but that doesn’t comfort me when I review my current situation. Here I was being “staticed” off into/onto the sky. There was however a feeling of intense mental elevation as I rose up into the home of thunder and lightening- the sky determines everything does it not? From very minute operations such as going to visit your friends to…to the entire fabric of your life being altered. It gave me a strange sense of euphoria, the feeling of rising up above the ground-I almost didn’t notice how the static was now engulfing me entirely. Like a cocoon it wrapped me, electric tentacles spinning and weaving all around. There was a constant buzz but strangely, it felt so harmonious; like the song of the sea, it was ever present and perfectly synchronized with the sweet moan of the wind and the rustle of the countless trees I was leaving behind me. I looked down and gaped in a claustrophobic frenzy, at the ground below, the ugly spiraling buildings, the avalanche of traffic and lights blinking constantly like some sinister monster- I saw a few green oasis’s being engulfed by the ugly structures of man and I looked away, my heart beating murderously hard and the buzzing cage around me carrying me higher.
I was afraid, I was insanely afraid of suddenly falling- my imagination went wild as I imagined myself plummeting down and on one of the tall spires that rose like claws being impaled to death. I was afraid of this revolving cage that lit up in a thousand hues, of the static that was encased in every fiber of my cage. I was afraid of this sudden phenomenon- what was happening to me? What was going on but my thoughts were like a hypnotic wave whispering at the back of my mind- there was little space for anything other than the constant buzz of the static and then it came: the feeling of travelling through space and time halted and here I was, faced with the true ferocity of the lightening.
My eyes went black. It was so bright that I couldn’t see anything other than spinning darkness; I couldn’t for a moment even breathe. And then gradually while my sight repaired itself, I felt everything around me vibrate- it was is if every particle of air bowed down to this great voice. The voice was louder now that I was suspended sky high and steadily climbing. What was to happen to me?
The thunder was growing softer but my ears felt as if they had been submerged down a waterfall; the thunder still thundered to me even after he had ceased his monologue.
I closed my eyes, hysteria amounting. The shimmering cage around me looked like an inviting medium for death to conquer- and coupled with lightening? Oh dear…I was in a tight spot wouldn’t you say?
But the moment I thought tight-the cage around grew closer, closer and…closer until it touched my skin. I could feel the billions of lambent orbs vibrating and sinking in- I watched as how the hair on my hands melted away as the electricity slowly seeped in. At that moment I knew I would die. I knew I was going to be burned to death- but I was wrong.

Wanderlust- part 1

A strange display of light emanated from above…
It was blinding white, so bright that it scared away the shadows but yet it lasted for only a few seconds- those few seconds were an eternity when the whole world was illuminated in a sparkle of dazzling white, blinding white light.
And while the shock registered another visitation revealed itself- a voice chaotic, distant and yet all around you…these four walls may crumble if they tried to contain the ferocity with which they were spoken. And yet to my ears it was a musical symphony, a cadence, a crescendo of intense emotion warping ones mine- it’s a natural abreaction mans psychology creates that makes us fear this phenomenon. Its something we don’t understand, it’s a power we can’t tame or predict and so we fear it.
What’s strange to see is that the natural life around me, the birdbath, the little swing attached to the trees for the multitude of parrots and the grain stone where with the remaining fruit, a few grains and nuts; all of these “landmarks” (as I would call them) are over brimming with the usual tenants, and even as the sky is ferociously assaulted, these little beings don’t show their fear; its hardly there. The squirrel doesn’t flinch, the birds don’t scream and make a racket- its like this phenomenon is completely normal to them, its like they simply accept this power and yet to me…I sense a friction with mans ego and the natural forces- is it thought that hinders acceptance? The thought or even subconscious realization of how transitory life is and how lives may be affected, altered forever is perhaps what makes us afraid? Or have we simply forgotten how to live with the elements? I have seen many people clamp their ears, shut their eyes and even scream when the voice speaks to them. Is it the voice of god? But what if there is no god? What if you don’t believe in god? Then he naturally doesn’t exist, so then what is it? Forces above colliding? A more complicated explanation is offered by the scientists but lets not get there- this story (like all others) is a different account and much of what is said could be metaphoric or maybe more than that: it could be a fact for those who see the beauty of nature rather than those who see the bare, naked factual explanations- there is a difference you see, maybe if you prod around a bit you might find the answer…

Its mango season and I, occupant in the four walls of plaster and nothing but mankind’s mechanism, watch the natural world outside longingly. It is sparse however, the trees are scattered few but somehow the little orchestra would reach my ears and I like a misty eyed lover would turn my gaze to my love and drink deep the beauty, the music and the tranquility of the moment. They all assembled at a Jak tree of whose neighbor is a mango tree, a few bulging mangoes obvious even at this distance. But above its pell-mell, holy cacophony! The sky streaks with lightening and the static sinewy veins of the firmament are for a moment exposed and there is a blare of noise. The whole human world is at that minute silenced; its quiet for they are all afraid.
But I reckless, curious and self-aware (of the fact that this sight scares me too) glance upstairs and notice how the world is lit up- and then it darkens once more. I couldn’t resist it, the rain had not yet fallen and it was the rock n roll of the gods above epitomized and amplified – who could miss such a chance?
And so I gently, meekly made my way to the rooftop and look up at my bare, cloudy archway; the music struck again and this time, while the thunder was echoing, I noticed how the birds took entered their own chime. I was spellbound, for listening to it made me think of how much there is in beauty alone that we cannot comprehend and are blind to. Deaf to, too would be appropriate. Beauty perhaps depends on a personal definition as does almost everything that is transmitted though feelings.
And the song continued, the thunder like some lonesome pianist playing the chords at the far left, drunk in how own melancholy while the birds filled in the harmonies. At that point I also noticed how thunder had different pitches- he often sang on key notes and began his song at different but almost synchronized pitches. Perhaps his song is subject to his different emotions as ours are? Or perhaps thunder is the song of the Sky and the Sky sings his song called Thunder? Or perhaps thunder is a phase the Sky goes through, like His other face which he wears, like the azure skies. Azure associated with brightness and white clouds- but it has no song of its own does it? The little birds are instruments of this particular phase…hmm…just a few thoughts. I for one have always preferred fantasy over the grounded stories science tell us; my feet have always been dangling above my head and in my imaginative analysis of the situation, the imagine of it reminds me of one of those Shakespearean jesters with their garb (save Yorick, for he wore nothing but the garment of Death) and while the image is ridiculous enough, something along those lines did unseat my sanity (again: sanity is subject to personal definition).
All of a sudden I looked up and I thought I saw a few distant shadows moving…it couldn’t be could it? In this kind of tropical storm who in their right minds would be…err…so high up on the sky or outside as a matter of fact? (Save slightly delusional characters like me who swallow their inherent fear and allow the static to them off their feet…)
Static take you off your feet? What the hell…I just uttered the statement and at that exact moment there was a buzz hovering around my ankles, and the sight took away all the color from my face; I felt a drain as my heart beat as loud as war drums and the shock was impossible to contain, but I have to for my voice entirely betrayed me. I just couldn’t even scream or exclaim!
It was a rather intense moment- here I was, subject to one of my primal fears facing me in a physical shape. It was deathening (there isn’t such a word in English, but I take the privilege of inventing it- there is no other way of expressing it). The whole experience was delusional, and yet while it felt like something I, an atypical escapist would dream of, the abreaction is rather intense, you cant really control yourself, try to keep calm and not flap your arms around like a bat whose wings have grown in the wrong place. You can’t help but echo the screaming thoughts in your head, those OH MY GOODNESS, SHIT, and FUCK WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME? And all the internal chaos unknown situations reap. It’s like your whole inner being is sown and unconsciously reaped. And reviewing such reactions always puts me to shame, but nevertheless, her I was, being lifted off by static, acting like some kind of cloud and…into the sky? Can you go into the sky? Humor me…I was just about to find out…

well to my blog that is... haha..
so its been an age and i have officially finished, wrapped up one part of my life....yesh...all my exams are over and pretty soon ill be graduating...:S which means having to socialize with teachers...urrrggghhhh...what a nauseating bitch!

but look at the bright side... NO MORE FUCKETHING ECON AND BUSINESS STUDIES! hahah and hopefully that will be FOREVER! bahahhahaha!

so in celebration i shall post a poem i think ive not posted...

My shadows dance

Where the wolves roam, silent feet padding against the moist ground,
Where the little shoots out of broken rock grew, miraculously
Drinking the water from the crags and growing into the gnarled tree
With bark extending past the width of my outstretched hands,
Almost touching the skies with His other grim companions,
A foothold, a place to rest my feet, keep them above the ground
And amid the woodland activity pick out the squirrel
Bounding with tail upright, ever in a hurry to fill the granary
With stolen nuts and little prizes Earth bestows
In hushed majesty, how the wind blows mocking our liberty!
A pantheon built in this panorama
Winding and weaving the verdant intricacies up the barks of the great trees
Growing, trying to reach Sol…
Beneath is the whisper of my muffled footsteps; a twig snaps: a reminder of my invasion
My shadow flees outnumbered by the greater umbrageous expanse above;
I watch as I see my shadows move in a daze,
Like a creature of old in some ritualistic dance,
It spins as I turn, the shade from above fringing the bare space
And in circles I twirl, the wind uplifting my being
Visited by the spirits that roam Borenas…
Earth, my dear mother, as a seed I grew, torn from your womb,
And as your child I want to return to you…

AND AND AND AND

heres ETERNITY for you...

Well I certainly would like to know. It’s disturbing and even though the heavy artillery is miles away it’s as if its echoes are found everywhere. So they say it’s nearly come to an end. 26 or so years of waging war; a war that’s lost its cause now. What once was fought for the freedom of oppressed people has turned into a massacre of the very people they wished to protect- human shields, that’s what they are now.
Reports are distorted, it would be human err to embrace the news flying around- just for some peace of mind I don’t see why I should deceive myself. Just a few thoughts though, its strange how most of us came to despise the president who in just two years has ended this meaningless fighting- all enmity is forgotten and for once Sri Lanka is united…while it is a great feat, while we will finally have some peace, (and by we I don’t mean those who live in the shade of Colombo, almost free from any worrying- I mean everyone, all the Sri Lankan’s alike, no matter what their race. But will this peace be peaceful? This war has scarred the current and the coming generation alike…where will this lead us? What peace of mind, what semblance of a normal life can those people expect after all of this?), and perhaps what I am to say here will mark me as unpatriotic but I still think we should not readily forget the presidents loony mannerism. Frankly, the victory scares me as much as loosing…so much the power he will have over us, something which can easily be manipulate…perhaps its my overactive imagination but I cant seem to hang these suspicions…hmmm…

The international community calls for ceasefire. Its annoying actually- do look at it from our view point, this war will finally end, but admittedly at what cost? Ironically victory is for he who has the highest pile of bodies…what kind of victory is that? Perhaps morality shouldn’t be mixed with war, but we wage war with humans so I don’t see why we should leave it out. Numbers, numbers, numbers. It’s all mere numbers to some people. A statistic for to elevate the height of the throne…
So the international community wishes to intervene and even “punish” Sri Lanka for war crimes- but pray tell me who committed these crimes? After that question is answered you can of course take the necessary action but bumping your pot bellies against walls in your blindness won’t help here. Also ironically what of the war crimes Israel commits? The crimes America commits? All of this goes unchecked! Look closer to home boys and do get your facts right!
It’s almost over however, civilians are pouring into the safety zones and my fingers are crossed and my heart is with them…May the spirits watch over you and let’s hope the casualties cease their doleful cry to reach higher.
This chapter is almost closed, but what will happen after this? Would it be too much to ask for those who have been calling for ceasefire to help the country restore its peace- for the war may end but an internal war will wage within everyone, especially those who have just escaped the clutches of the devil. A ceasefire will help us little, but instead if you would focus your attention on restoring the livelihoods of these people, giving assistance with medical care and psychological treatment? Help us build our nation once more instead of prolonging the suffering?
As for Prabakaran, may the deuce take him! Hope you’re suffering in your hell hole down there and your air conditioner breaks down. With Sol shining the way it does in these parts it won’t be any surprise if we find you cooked in your little hidey-hole-spidey-hole! May you suffer evermore.

----EXUENT----

The whispering hush of the trees above,
Leafy gaps through which the sky watches-
Suspension of steady ground,
Motion, pure motion of leaving the world behind
In a sweep of wind, and scent left lingering,
The dark cascade of my hair trailing behind
In dizzying patterns: echoes of sanctity obscured to the mundane eye
The wind a symphony, I tear across the air;
I glimpse a stationary world; it is only motion and I,
Closer to the branches then swinging down below
A sacred communion with some lost spirit of old,
Behold how we merge! My laughter bubbling forth
As the sun rises on the horizon and the shade above deepens its hue,
A metallic chaffing as I am led off into the air
But it matters not how, what matters
Is leaving it all behind…

Dipped in fragrance, white petals staring into a reverie,
I hear a bird song even in this late hour,
Where the moon grows with Her dominance over the skies;
Even at this late hour the flowers perfume
Sweeps in wind washed patterns around me-
The childhood scents, a canopy of thick weeded green
Growing with lashes of white falling at my feet-
The scent a reminder, sweet memoriam
Of a spirit wandering long before it got locked away-

Lost haunts are caged deep within the wells,
The tiny stem crushed with my nails
Do you dare delve, tear apart the minute flower
And unlock its secrets, aged with mystery
And lingering scent? Therein, perchance you may find,
The heart of the ailment where the sickness began,
A fit overcome, but froth ever bubbling forth
The brim undone-
But in a passion we seek to destroy, you and I, I and I,
We brush away that lingering essence,
Those days of obsequious ignorance left unstrung.
Strangle that white shrouded figure,
Innocent flower, your petals are scattered
And dust covered…

But lightening strikes me down
And in that very God touched place
Sweeping past the wards around
I trace the eddies reaching out to you,
In that hidden vale, with the canopy frail
I touched that mind again, oh noble savage!
Childhood scents calling me back from my cage…

to begin with (my blog seems to be the last to be updated!) i got interviewed! check it out on:
http://www.rock.lk/forum/index.php?topic=310.945

yepp and apart from that we have my blasted exams...for which i am SOOOOO looking forwards to! !@#!$%#$%^!$!@#$@#!@$#@!$@!$!@# *BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!* haha...damn..shame on me! well anyways...my mood swings have been completely out of control, i range from a sweet faced alien to an absolute monster in just a matter of minutes...tsk..but heres what i managed today in two periods of my extreme lows:

Ghosts in a circle

All our ghosts stand in the circle
Just around the corner, where I once stood
To wave at you one last time-
I walk another road and this time I see them again,
Invisible eddies of energy brushing past even though here
There is no breeze to light up my features-
Where is that laughter? Its half fulfilled
Hollow, harsh and ugly to my ears;
Left to resonate in the ghosts of the past
Laughing in a cacophony in that very corner
Where I once stood to wave at you one last time…

its a pretty simple piece but it hurt a lot while i wrote it...hmmm...*looks in the opposite direction* and this:

The city on clouds

The city on clouds I built:
Spires tall embracing the ugly smog within;
I play God and build the chains,
Punish- I am God so why cannot I
Make you feel the pain of your mistake
Make you slaver beneath the sun, the very chains of imagination
My whips- delirium!
Delirium ring the church bells
Resonating a cacophony loud and maddening-
Do you hear those hymns? They are the songs I sing
To ease the pain of those burdened days
When alone and broken I lay, with none to lull me to sleep
But my tainted hymns- hark! Do you see these winding alleys?
Deserted! Here thou shall not hear the patter of small feet,
Sweet laughter and the winds’ song-
Here is my citadel, strong and tall
Spires? Those be my hands stabbing my lonesome sky…
I play god- I am god and punish thee I shall
Pain, pleasure, pain- those eyes bleed scabbed lies,
I bleed to god and god am I,
Coloring the walls of the city on clouds
With the blood I spit in my slavering penance…

which tugged at a few unpleasant memories and emotions...aaah well...so before i decided to update my blog i was actually studying economics but then again my blog is much more important than my exams right! right??!!!! anyways right now im unwinding from my "hard" day of studying with some fallen grace and anathema...oh dear, i better take a break from all this studying before i have a nervous breakdown...*sigh* I WISH!!!!!!!!! hahahahahahahahahha....!