White mountain

blowing on my tea
hands gentle
around a tin cup
hoping I can sip the summer
and be with the falling leaves

feasting
on pine needles
I drink in the gathas ;
I’ve forgotten to beg for food
and the blossoms keep falling

so alone up here
I startle
hearing my own laugh
this attachment to solitude
is so good

how soon
the night sinks
behind the trees
as if the perfumed plums
is the land of the Buddhas

***Haiku Presence
Issue 56 (October 2016)***

Actually living — Mindfulbalance

If my happiness at this moment consists largely in reviewing happy memories and expectations, I am but dimly aware of this present. I shall still be dimly aware of the present when the good things that I have been expecting come to pass. For I shall have formed a habit of looking behind and ahead,…

via Actually living — Mindfulbalance

Pink dusk.
The sky has many layers of blues.
A cross between a girl’s and a boy’s
patchwork quilt.
How innocent is karma ?
My mind is an unmoving needle
drawing a flat line.
The clouds flow slowly
dragging away the causes.
A troy train
filled with silly fluffy animals and horny humans.
It’s the birds that are chasing each other
in the distant sky.
The effects are zero.
I feel nothing.
Just a silly needle with no sense of geometry.
Horrible line.

© Malintha Perera 2016

The mist is just right
to be fed into the mouths of the trees.
How many sentient beings must be hungry ?
Yet
there is a filled hollowness
in the depths of the mountain cliffs
and it’s the silence that moves
inside the incense smoke
that is insatiable
like a belly
deep in the three worlds.

© Malintha Perera 2016

flowers take up the space     within me
to such an                 extent
so much so that when I walk along the path
i get
lost
inside the flat lands
touching so many wild flowers

i don’t mean to          carry so much of their scent with me
I keep reminding myself that they are my
emptiness
that whispers so many teachings
that I can overlook the weeds that have grown within me
that this ache I feel
is nothing
compared to the fullness of things

© Malintha Perera 2016

The rain has gone.
It has pulled away my words along with it.
I’m left to dry on a chair
looking at nothing.
My hand has drawn nonsense
on the notebook
of mated lines and circles.
I have ruined many pages.
I have searched
for a nameless self.

© Malintha Perera 2016

Leafing through the speechless trees.
They have stopped turning
the sense around.I stop at the openings.
Space
within           space

freeing               chains.
A bee’s wing.
Water tongues
lapping    void.

The light is a formless   spray
sprinkling on my face.

Making me squint.

Reminding me
to smile.

poem and image © Malintha Perera

it is the least I want
but
the perfect place I want it to be
the snakes have long faded
this flower in bloom is ready to burst in to thousands of petals
kundalini
rising
this matter of atoms
who would have thought
this existence
with cosmos
is just a crack
within a void
of a cell
inside where galaxies of jewels
shine
mirroring each other
a quilt of patched up colours
of planets and stars

the crown opens
we are one

© Malintha Perera 2016

Image : https://plus.google.com/u/0/+MalinthaPerera/posts/NTNSzgXuzin?pid=6253638787475405858&oid=109279372830689552349

To see a butterfly
taking off from an open flower.
You become it.
Neither the flower nor the butterfly.
You are that moment
that get released from both.
An invisible
spring
uncoiling.
A bubble
swelling
bursting.
It is unbearable.
So      fleeting.
You cannot capture the feeling.
And then
………….you forget.

© Malintha Perera 2016

as I move
on to the tip of my nose
they surface with gills made of spoons
stirring the broth they live in
no wonder I can’t see the bottom

this neon identity
from    surface to    surface
a flamboyant centipede

my breath makes  beads
nose tip against nose tip

staring at each other
facing so many
I put my hand against the facade

and distorts my own self
looking
in to me

Image and poem © Malintha Perera 2016