I used to write nothing but poetry, it being easier to finish than prose. Ashok Ferrey, however, organized a reading at the Galle Literary Fest and asked me to read some stuff. I checked into the hotel a few days before and wrote this on the balcony. Most Sri Lankan poetry/prose is about the war, flowers, 1983, etc. I also think most poetry in general takes itself way too seriously. I think the written form has spun into something a bit out of touch, while the spoken lives on (in denial). By that I mean that the main poetry I know is Notorious BIG, Nas, Tupac and rappers. And, yes it is poetry. And the main subject matter I’m interested in is the future and technology. Below is a poem about the latter.

In the video the company mentioned at the end is different. Still not sure what to put there. Anyways, I think the reading went really well. People seemed to like it, and it felt great. I think what people may remember, though, is that I read the poems off a Samsung Blackjack (smartphone). I guess this looks different, but I don’t know anything else. I don’t own a printer and can never locate a working pen. So I just emailed the text to myself and read it off my phone.

The Profit

Once there was a boy,
Born in the smallest of places
With a celestial antenna in his head

He heard our conversations
He dreamed color TV
He woke up in the morning
And walked into the sea

Even there the signal lingered
Fisherman and thieves
He got some floaty armbands
And swam off to be free

And in the open ocean
Under sun and satellite
He found a fellow dolphin
Watching Price Is Right

The dolphin took him swimming
Cause that’s what dolphins do
They listened to the radio
Caught reruns and withdrew

After years of contemplation
It began to coalesce
The signal flowed like water
Didn’t give him any stress

And then this lonely ansible
Re-emerged on land
His flippers became flip flops
His fins became a hand

He went up to the mountain
Cause that’s where towers go
He started sending messages
Through SMS, and radio

He told the kids to brush their teeth,
Told women not to lie
He told the men to stop the fights
Told elders how to die

The mystics called him tragic,
The shrinks called him insane
The prophets called him cousin
And Google bought his brain

Posted on Monday, February 2nd, 2009 in Poetry, Video.