Details |
Nathasha Thalpaguruge Poem
We leave the fifth grade reunion, go to another school
to a place that's much calmer
No more tag or hide and seek or
gathering in a circle to play Duck Duck Goose.
No more random stories,
from rolling the story cubes.
No more hanging out together as friends.
After all the years of being with each other,
we are forced to be separated, never to be seen again.
Just me. Disappointed me.
My life becomes shattered broken glass.
It's like a knife cut through my heart.
Missing my friends throughout the summer,
was difficult,
it was like a challenge to overcome,
after the last day of school.
It was so hard to say goodbye to our school
and our loving friends.
It was heartbreaking to say,
farewell fifth grade,
farewell elementary school.
Copyright © Nathasha Thalpaguruge | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Nathasha Thalpaguruge Poem
The whole neighborhood was silent,
silent enough that you can only hear the crickets chirping.
It was getting dark outside.
I ran to my bedroom window.
Slowly gazing across the midnight sky.
Dangling from up above were millions of dewdrops of stars casting bright glows.
Only one star caught my eye,
it was luminous and enchanting and it was like the queen of the universe.
I knew it was a special star.
It reminds me of my dog Cindy.
We had great times together, playing fetch and hide and seek.
But this time it was something worse,
worse than any bad memory I had,
or a sore throat I get when I didn't put my jacket on,
a kind of feeling I get when I hate a book I read,
an unforgettable rumor that was made about me,
a day that it rains.
You tell me it is too late to remember the great times I had with Cindy,
but that is because Cindy is gone.
Copyright © Nathasha Thalpaguruge | Year Posted 2018
|
Details |
Nathasha Thalpaguruge Poem
Beaten down, dragged upon the cement blocks.
Pain runs through every spot of your back.
Policemen trying to tear down the rest of who you are.
As you march, it was difficult to even make a change.
Everywhere dead bodies lay on the streets.
Being buried.
Police with their long bats hit each and every person in the protest.
Screams echo along the streets.
This is the stand for equal rights.
Arrested.
Hands raised to the sky
Scared and restless.
Trapped in jail for hours, days,...years.
Not a single word of letting go of jail and being free.
But you are still standing no matter what goes on.
Barriers can grow as high as the Burji Kalifa,
long as the world's longest bride the Danyang-Kunshan Grand.
But we never think the fight is too tough.
We are powerful in our hearts,
powerful in our soul,
clash like waves,
roar loud as we can for equal justice.
No matter who we are whether it is a different background, religion, race...
We all are humans.
We all should stand up like leaders and show our momentum to fight.
Breaking barriers isn't tough,
It takes the courage and confidence to reach your goal.
Copyright © Nathasha Thalpaguruge | Year Posted 2018
|
Details |
Nathasha Thalpaguruge Poem
Context: This was a letter written to Frank who is a character in the book If Beale Street Could Talk.
Dear Frank,
Your head is muddled with thoughts of your own son.
Your only son.
Incarcerated.
Life for you is like a tug of war.
An emotional war
between you and your racist opponents.
You try to firmly grip the rope,
having the confidence to free Fonny.
But the rope slowly trickles from you to the other side
and brings you sliding to the racist end.
Fonny doesn’t seem to understand how to help you.
Neither do you.
Is that why you left him?
The laughter you had with Joe,
the arguments you had with Mrs. Hunt,
the bond you had with Tish
all come to mind when I think of you.
Your bravery.
Your determination
to stand for the family
as a black man living in an unjust society.
But you left them.
The glistening, brown eyes you had.
Those eyes gave a spark of light,
a spark of light to see our ways
in the vast drowned space
of injustice.
And then you blew it,
just like a birthday candle
that I once blew out on my 1st birthday
marking the day I was born.
It was birthdays that made me joyful.
Joyful to spend my life to the fullest.
Do you remember the time Fonny turned one?
Do you remember how happy you and Fonny were together?
Do you remember his little smile filled with joy,
his soft voice that brought you cheer,
his kisses that pressed against your cheek?
You stripped yourself of the chance to experience this with Fonny’s son.
But never did I know
you struggle.
Struggle to bypass the road of hate.
Then I saw tears.
Tears running down your face in streams.
Streams that are searching to find an answer to a problem.
Each tear is covered in a delicate layer of words,
harsh words describing you,
hurting you,
but no one will ever know.
I understand your struggle.
I saw the pain through your smile.
As a matter of fact I struggled too.
Struggled with things that are out of my control.
With things that knot around me and tear me apart.
It is not my fault that I have to live in a society with struggles tangling within me.
I struggle just like you.
Each and everyday.
You chose the easy way out.
But I chose to stay and work through my struggles.
To improve life when things get hard.
To make myself happy
To laugh at times when there was no reason to do so.
To be there for my family
because I knew that I was the strength for my family to keep going.
Copyright © Nathasha Thalpaguruge | Year Posted 2021
|
Details |
Nathasha Thalpaguruge Poem
Nature makes me blossom,
from the flower that blooms in my backyard,
to the tall trees that shimmer with green.
When I was five I remember exploring the outdoors,
taking my red sketchbook everywhere.
Lines flying through the page,
as I try to resemble the observation.
Adding touches of color one by one.
Tunes of nature hum in my ear.
The chirping of the birds,
the crackling of the leaves,
the whistling of the breeze.
I cherished so much of nature.
I began to see a blur of an animal in the distance,
covered in brown with speckles of white dots.
It came into a clear view.
It was a baby deer!
Sweat beads formed around my neck.
My hands began to tremble,
rushing to find a blank page to draw my observation.
Pencil gripped in my hand.
I began to draw.
But the deer quickly raced off.
Copyright © Nathasha Thalpaguruge | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Nathasha Thalpaguruge Poem
Nice
Adventurous
Talented
Honest
Awesome
Sri Lankan
Helpful
Affectionate
Copyright © Nathasha Thalpaguruge | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Nathasha Thalpaguruge Poem
I never would've
known that as a daughter
of a mother,
we can make a lifetime bond within our hearts.
A mother's love,
is a love that you and your mother only share.
Her love is like an ocean,
vast and wide.
Every wave that goes in,
is a wave of love that you give in.
Every way that goes back to you,
is a wave of love that she gives you.
A mother' heart,
is a heart of warmth.
If you could look inside your mother's heart,
you could truly see,
the love that lies between the memories.
A mother is very precious.
There's only one mother in each family.
Not three, not two, but one.
For life's personal situations,
is a mother who you can turn to.
Happy Mother's Day!
Copyright © Nathasha Thalpaguruge | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Nathasha Thalpaguruge Poem
When gallons of water fall from the faucet,
my mother reminds me to turn off the faucet when not in use.
But as I count the last few drops falling down towards the drain,
I think about the animal that ate endangered,
and getting killed every second.
Many never contemplate that humans are the threat to wildlife.
But hunters slowly inch through the jungles,
with their long black guns ready to fire and kill animals.
Sadness runs through from seeing death rising, populations decreasing.
Howls of desperate cries call out to each other going through cities, states, counties, and to the world.
All finding out that animals have the right to survive.
It is the verge of extinction.
The last moments they will survive.
Once there is none,
there gone
But time is running out,
extinction is rising.
Copyright © Nathasha Thalpaguruge | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Nathasha Thalpaguruge Poem
Grandma and I use to run across the shore.
Building sandcastles,
collecting seashells wedged in the deep sand.
Many times we watch the waves hit the shore,
other times we leave our marks on the slushy sand.
Grandma usually covers me in the sand and keeps me toasty.
But now those days are over,
I wonder where you are.
We always took the time writing letters to each other,
but I never heard from you ever since.
Rumors whispered and passed on from village to village,
saying that my grandma was gone.
She is probably in a good place now,
but I never had a chance to say goodbye.
Copyright © Nathasha Thalpaguruge | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Nathasha Thalpaguruge Poem
Never look in a mirror because your already beautiful the way you are.
Never change yourself because then your not unique.
Express yourself to be known.
Show them that you are different and you go in your own way.
Don't let them haters put you in THEIR path.
Now let yourself know that you don't need to be a follower.
Because you are a leader who makes your own rules.
Copyright © Nathasha Thalpaguruge | Year Posted 2020
|