The preamble distinguishes the artisan (painting the smoking lips on the gigantic billboard-ad for cigarettes) from the artist (splattering paint on the police officer watching on the sidewalk).

A poem about birth from that baby’s point of view.

Short story I wrote about a kid in an earthquake.

I wrote this for my sister.

A poem about a sibiling who is very upset about their sister leaving for college.

It would be a different experience to be in a jail, sometimes frustrating never the less the reason why you have to be in a jail would be the topic of inquest to anyone who is revealed of the fact that you have been in custody. I had to confront and make my self clear to everyone ,who ever inquired about my day in the prison, though I am not very proud about it. The story goes on.

A short love story about a girl I met in Tennessee. I wrote this poem many, many years ago…

Poem about my sister. Her health hasn’t been good. My heart aches.

This poem dedicate to you The Loving Sister Iresha Maduwanthi,
the Deeper perceptions are in this poems having been bring out by your personality.

Humorous account about growing up with my older sister.