Biography of Shirani Rajapakse
Sri Lankan poet and author Shirani Rajapakse began publishing in 2011. Her debut collection of short stories 'Breaking News' (Vijitha Yapa 2011) was shortlisted for the Gratiaen Award. Her poetry is published in literary magazines and anthologies (both print and ezine) . In early 2013 she won the 'Cha 'Betrayal' Poetry Contest. Her poem 'The Shower' was selected as a finalist in the Anna Davidson Rosenberg Poetry Awards 2013.
Except for a few, the majority of poems included here are all previously published. The original publisher and date of publication is included below the poems.
Below is a list of literary magazines and anthologies that feature her work.
Kitaab, Cyclamens & Swords, Channels, Linnet’s Wings, Spark, Berfrois, Counterpunch, Earthen Lamp Journal, Asian Cha, Dove Tales, Buddhist Poetry Review, About Place Journal, Skylight 47, The Smoking Poet, New Verse News, The Occupy Poetry Project.
Ballads, Short & Sweet, Poems for Freedom, Voices Israel Poetry Anthology 2012, Song of Sahel, Occupy Wall Street Poetry Anthology, World Healing World Peace 2012 and Every Child Is Entitled to Innocence.
She blogs at http: //shiranirajapakse.wordpress.com.
Shirani Rajapakse's Works:
Breaking News (Vijitha Yapa 2011) .
Shirani Rajapakse Poems
They sit in a row, heads Bowed low, and accept
The wind rustled through the trees, moving this way and that and the leaves began to
The noise engulfs me. Yet I’m alone. The birds sing outside. Yet I’m alone.
I’m bored with this life. Can I go home? But where is home? How do I get there? Which bus
The End Of Summer
The smell of smoke and acid thins on the wind as warm breezes blow softly, taking them away, from the desert.
Lost In Thought
She stared out at the people passing on the street before her. A myriad of colours and shapes wafted by, some hurrying some moving
Zuccotti Park Rises
You watched from your window as they came in numbers large enough to take over the world. One by one they built a park of humanity. I watched from my PC, my window to there – where you were.
You placed me on a shelf and left me there to dry. I was forgotten.
The men ride through the night. Their horses gallop to time on the sands as they move through the dust rising, rising like a cloud. And as they move they sing.
A Gift To You
The aroma from my coffee wafts through the room. The sweet taste of the doughnut lingers in my mouth as I sit in cushioned
Give me a sip of water for my lips are parched, my throat too dry to speak and I will sing you a song of the Sahel as I remember it. A song soft
Lifting, moving, bowing. Blue stripes on loose white cover skin and bone too
Out of the ruins of war rose a voice so calm it took us by surprise. Was this peace? We rejoiced and marveled at the thought.
Hands In Protest
Hands across the world we are the masses. We protest injustice that those in high office calls justice. We weather the spray,
bowing. Blue stripes
on loose white cover
skin and bone too
young to look like
that. Old and gnarled
like the trees in
the garden somewhere
nice. She steadies