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“The purpose of poetry is to remind us
how difficult it is to remain just one person,
for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors,
and invisible guests come in and out at will.”
-Czesław Miłosz

Remind the world of the purpose of poetry by mailing your poems to nationfreemagazine@gmail.com

Death of a squirrel
Admittedly, I was ill-prepared
For such an unjustifiable accusation
Made by my very-own
Teen-aged daughter,
As her grief-stricken cries echoed
Disturbing the tranquil air
And also my peace of mind
For how can I be answerable
Or even feel guilty,
For that atrocity, solely committed
By our, otherwise loving and adorable dog
Who had the audacity
To dash inside my study room
And instantly to catch the squirrel
While its body, remaining limp
Silently, accusing me for my lapse
Of forgetting to close the door of the
Study room, as I was instructed
Ump-teen times, by my idol
Of a guiding star, who strangely enough
Now very much pacified
Watches a soap-opera, spell bound
Forgetting the death of the squirrel
As something uneventful,
While my heart lingers
With a feeling of melancholy
Grieving about the irreparable loss
Of that poor creature’s life
Snatched out, swiftly and unexpectedly
Bowing down, as I try to console myself
To irrevocable dictates of mother-nature
Which itself I find as a rare marvel
Deserving accolades,
For its intricate grand design
Lasting seemingly till eternity
By Ranjan M Amarasinghe

Some people need thousands of words to tell a story. Others however, need only a sentence or two. If you are able to capture the reader, move the reader, by a few words, the two sentence story page is for you. We will give you a theme for each month and you can send your stories to nationfreemagazine@gmail.com or mail them to 742, Maradana Road, Colombo10

The theme for August is ‘Voice’ and the deadline for stories is August 21

For: Savithmi
Hopefully;
The string of black and white beads
warded off all evil
off you, little girl, gleaming wide
The little pink dress for you I made
specially crafted for you, darling Savithmi
A  projection of love and affection
on a day, eleven years back
to adorn you, little joy of pink
with each and every strand of filigree
in each and every ruffled frill  of pink
there lied boundless wishes of the softest pink
definer of peace and prosperity
engulfed in worldly colours of the darkest hues
I wish you darling Savithmi
a path of  soft-petaled  pink roses
to tread on
now and always
I wish you many more of; July twenty sevens
Wish you rose –pink times,
Now and Always
For you; the choicest gift
a symbol ; a gift of love,  femininity
a rose-pink garnet  embedded in eternity
Loku Ammi (Nerupamal)

Nike Revolution
“Down with the regime!” we shouted,
Straight into the hearts
Of the eyes of the world
Hovering on the very edge
Of the uprising, The Spring.
Fast-beating hearts armored
With T-shirts crying, “Linkin’ Park, 50-cents, New York”,
We faced down the guns made in the US of A
Unloaded on our shores for reasons unknown
In the distant past.
Now the assets are frozen,
They are going to buy us guns
From their shops
To bring the regime down
With our money
So they could do business with us
In a civilized way
After the dust settles down
Over the foe and the friend, democratically.
The mid-day sun beats down
On my spiked up head
Threatening to crack it open;
Cheap designer shades,
The rage of the town,
Don’t do nothing
To keep the horror out of sight!
By Anupama Godakanda

Love so fierce and deep
It was immense
How it engulfed me
It was beautiful
How it pleases me
It was sacred
Like no one else could match
It was pure
And flowed endlessly
His love was deep
Like rivers flow deep
His affection so unique
It makes stars shine bright
The passion that burns in him
No art could carve
No song to be sung
Love so fierce and deep.
By Devuni Goonewardene