Diaspora Diary

Friday, February 16, 2018

The Fragrance of Loss- Poetry Review by Mary Barnet


Speaking a language other than his mother tongue Sinhala he sees his journey and arrival into a land that cannot seem to fulfill his dreams.   It follows that his poems are those of himself and the other refugees who surround him. His A refugee’s Night is on “a snowy bench and no more,” a rendition of the penniless traveler or the homeless. It is the pain of loss.
But Udaya sees further and in “the lonely fish [that] swims freely” (An Autumn Morning) he sees that the fish may be a meal for “the crane that [freely] sunbathes.” In his loneliness and anger he sees the ultimate truth : one man may devour another.  He must “suppress excessive anger.”  His commands perhaps to all, but including himself : “Do not let your blood boil” (The Anger).   Tennakoon, like his fellow refugees and potentially all the Homeless is always angry and must struggle to contain his anger until he find a place in the nation he have adopted.
There are, however, some poems of hope and less stark beauty as in this Haiku :
Apple Flowers
End of winter born
Apple flowers turn to fruit
A pregnant mother
Udaya R. Tennakoon of Sri Lanka travels as part of those who escape their country whether because of war, famine, drought etc. They seem to try to reach Europe, as Udaya reached Zurich, but they spread out over many nations in a great Diaspora.  As he describes in this Haiku they are like “hidden fish” who spread out in “waves” from different lands :
Hidden Fish
Clear Water in Lake
Melting color by the waves
Hidden fish gather
Mr. Tennakoon reveals in his Senryu that even a bird’s freedom can be transitory.  “A door to open and close” is an “Invisible prison”. These are his words in his Haiku A beautiful cage. Such is a refugee camp and any nation’s border. And in Life and Space we find rooms harboring loss where life finds “it’s own tomb.”  It reaches even into marital life and penetrates the “ideal couple” as if “the light is on.” It brings the world that has abandoned them, that loss to destroy even their marital intimacy.
In another Senryu Tears of other Tennakoon cries in the midst of a “news channel” which has special meaning to him. Even with eyes closed he hears the sounds of loss, of war and the sobbing voices of his fellow refugees, the losses inflicted by the Diaspora.
Tears of other
Eyes hidden
Sad tears dropping on cheeks
A news channel keeps on
The stark life of all the poor, with the same desires as the prosperous, is revealed in Tennakoon’s Tanka as follows :
Consumption
Unsold foods on racks
Reduced prices for sale
Today it expiresDesired dish to night I love
A bundle insists to buy
In the Tanka Earthquake I think Udaya speaks quite simply to all.  He is sharing the feelings of a Nepalese and gives his “sorrow to Italy” ! He has become although still refugee, now European !
Udaya R. Tennakoon is a disciplined author and excellent throughout. I strongly advise you to read this book. I look forward to his next conquest of one or more of the different styles of poetry.
______________________________________________
Mary Barnet, American poet, published 86 Sonnets for the 21st Century in 2015 & is being nominated for a second time for a Pushcart Prize. Her first book, The New American: Selected Poems (Gilford Press 2006) was nominated for a Nobel Prize. It has been reviewed by Adam Donaldson Powell who calls the poems “carefully tailored pearls.” Janet Brennan, in her review of The New American, calls it “intelligent and stunning poetry.” Grace Cavalieri says Mary is “a light to many Poets and to the World.” 


The Fragrance of Loss by Udaya R. Tennakoon, Copyright© Udaya R. Tennakoon, ISBN: 978-81-8253-056-0, First Edition: 2017, Cyberwit.net

Return to Yesterday and Today

In Sri Lanka, political atmosphere is getting worse and worse. It was shown last local government election. The mirror of the society is reflected through that result. For a thousand years, no direction. The necessity of a creative, transcendental alternative is the matter which is not yet given a sign. There are so called alternative politics but for those also should have an alternative direction, if the society, or the country may take a turn to the correct path.
Which would be the "title" for this new path is the problem of fundamental thinking. But we should have a new path.
The confusion that can be seen in the social media and copy and paste web media is the best example of how people are showing their reality.
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As usual, yesterday I was in Oerlikon library. I have been writing and editing a few books which are to be published. My mind was not comfortable to touch those pages, even I opened the files. Then I thought to write down my thesis. Only I could read some books which I have already downloaded. It was just a cheat for myself because of I could not focus on that.
 Our online organization “Poets Unite Worldwide” is calling for poems for a new anthology about “spring”. After its website editions and publishing  some posts, I could write the poem. Since it is not allowed to publish I may only write the title of the poem.

“I should stand on a no mans line”

Today; 16th February 2018 is not as different as yesterday I expected. My mind does not allow to go in the books and thesis. I wrote two poems in my language one after one.
When I wanted to do something, poetry feeling comes and stop me of doing the indented thing. Is this a mental issue of a complex or the way of creative thinking?

After finished the writing a poem, my mind feels happy. But spending many hours, writing a poem, how could the society calculate the value of the cost. Being a refugee, and depending on the social support, the government can say me that I am not working. My writing and my poem will not suit for their so called integration. Even in my family, it would not be accepted.

I am wondering of the calculation of the value and life.

I am not ready to take this calculation or to change my mind. Because I have been doing so many voluntary things to the society where I have been living. It costs much though not pay for it. I do not use their taxes living as a rotter. I know that. Some of know that. I don’t`want to run for a race. I see through the library window how people are busy to catch the train. What is this aim? The sun rises up and sets down. The day becomes dark and again the same. Desires are more than that. In a short time, superimposed aims are in a struggle which is for individuality. The society says, insists to obey for this. Education and every roads guide for this craziness.

Two poems Written in Sinhala


කෙටි දුරකි මේ භව අප දැන් අවතාර

ගෙළ වැළඳ මිය ගියා. අප එකිනෙකා
ප්‍රේමයන්ගේ අවතාර
අන්තරා භවය මත
පැමිණ ඇත අප අප සොයා

මතකයන් අවුස්සා
මගහැරී ගිය උත්තුංග නිමේෂය
පසු තැවෙන සුසුමක් ඉතිරිකොට
යළි ඉපිද මිය යන්න

තියාගෙන ඉන්න ඔය සුසුම
යළි ලැබිය නො හැකි ඒ නිමේෂය
නො ලැබීම යනු තක්සේරු නො කළා වූ ප්‍රේමය

ඔබ ලැබූ ප්‍රේමය පහර දෙයි
තමාටම තමා ගැන නොරිස්සයි
අන් මඟක් නැති වංගගිරියක
සුසුම තුල අවතාර ප්‍රේමයේ  සැනසුම් මිදි යුෂ

අප අපට හිමි සුසුම් මත දකින සිහිනය
සැබෑවෙන් තුරුලු කොට වෙළී එක් සුසුමක
නිමේෂය කොතරම් සුවිශාල දැයි ප්‍රේමයට නගන්නට
හැකි වේද? කෙටි දුරකි මේ භව අප දැන් අවතාර

උදය ආර්. තෙන්නකෝන්


මිත්‍රශීලී සියවසක අවසන

වේදනාවක; කියාගත නො හැකි
රෝගීන් රෝහල් නැති
බඩ පලා සැත්කමක් වෙත
පැටැව් ගසනා කෙල කෝටි අපෝහක
රාග පණු විධ වංසනයට

පිත්තාශීය යුෂ, අග්නාශීය ශ්‍රාවයෙන්
නිසි අහර නැති ආමාශය හැඳි ගාන
වේදනාවක; කියාගත නො හැකි
එකක් පරයා එක එක
හිතේ ඉගිමගේ ඇද වැවේ

“සත්‍යය” මෙය මැයි අමුවෙන්
හිතේ ඉනිමඟ හොළවා
සිහින කඩන්න සත් බවින් පිළිපන් බෝ සතුන්ට
ඉටු නො වන පාරමිතා පිරිය හැකිය

රෝගීන්ගේ රාගය
රොකට්වලින් ඉහළට ගෙන ගොස්
බිම අතාරින ගගනගාමීන්ගේ “සත්‍යය”
සොක්‍රටීස්ගේ විෂ යුෂ මෙන් අදහන්නෝ ය.

මදුරු කොයිල් චක්‍රා කාර
පෙරුම් පුරන අපෝහක ලෝකයක
මිත්‍රශීලී සියවසක අවසන
“ලෝකය කැලෑවකි” අනාරක්ෂිත

ගොවිලක වැඩබිමක සමූහය
කෙසෙල් මුහක මල් මෙනි
“සත්‍යය” “විශ්වාසය”
පෙරුම් පුරන ඇත්න් ද පරඬැල් කොට විඝඨනයක
“ සාධාරණීයකරණය”
රෝගීන්ගේ ද
බෝසතුන්ගේ ද
රෝගීන්ට ද රෝගයට ද අපෝ වූ වචනය
බෝ සතුන්ගේ ආශාව නම්
එය “සත්භාවය” ද?
උදය ආර්. තෙන්නකෝන්