Indunil Madhusankha - Poems

Indunil Madhusankha is currently an undergraduate reading for a BSc Special Degree in Mathematics at the Faculty of Science of the University of Colombo. Even though he is academically involved with the subjects of Mathematics and Statistics, he also pursues a successful career in the field of English language and literature as a budding young researcher, reviewer, poet and content writer. Basically, he explores the miscellaneous complications of the human existence through his poetry by focussing on the burning issues in the contemporary society. Moreover, Indunil’s works have been featured in several international anthologies, magazines and journals. 

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                           Flowers on Sale
 
 Rose, jasmine, anthurium, carnation and hibiscus 
 A multiplicity of gorgeous flowers
 to the taste of the wealthy,
 of the opulent gentlemen
 Tulips available only in Five Star Hotels
 consumed by millionaires
 who may evour in the most fulgent pollens
 while bobbing on the petals
 The remuneration package
 negotiable and depending
 on the superficial elegance or
 on the number of petals
 They are just toys,
 to the rapture of their clients
 
Dark blots in these flowers
and lacking more of the inner fragrance
Branded as stray bitches
Disdain and hate left as their badge
And there lies under the very folly,
in the bed of their heart,
the cause, the unknown cause,
that was the titillation
provoking to be on sale
 
 
  
                        An Anthem for a Warlord
 
 Sought refuge in underground bunkers
Nor did you see the sunlight
while groping in the gloom of the underworld
At the fall of sky hugging mansions, 
you shrank into earth drilling luxurious bunkers
and fortified them with many a snare 
Isn't it due to your fear,
the repulsive fear of the death?
 Clad in armoured suits,
 what was your expectation?
Above all it was the fear
that quivered throughout your body
Despite your exorbitant wealth and excessive power
the fear burned your heart
almost like a rolling fire ball
You draped a chain attached to a capsule of Cyanide
around your Tigers' neck, 
just like a noose
to hasten their journey to the
penultimate destination
Yet, never did you wear one
The truth surfaces,
you were afraid of death
that you have bestowed on thousands
without the least sense
 Thirsty, you must be,
restlessly running after a mirage in the desert
The fear followed you like a shadow
Perhaps you wished mental relief,
relief from fear,
that you lacked in abundance
Yet, you are late,
too late,
 The dead may already be holing your heart!
 
 
  
 
                                              Classroom
 
 Nothing that can be recommended
as courtesy or worthy of learning
I perceive in their
immensely pictured tall talks
about their conceit and slang values
 
 Driven crazy by inordinate sordid concepts
they gossiped about all their adventures
from A to Z
The heroically virile deeds,
they boasted about and recited
in a dashing tongue
 
The love game that bound their preference
Marks given in accordance
with the number of girls
one entraps in his web
The higher the marks they got
The more the victims were
Those obtaining lower marks
provided them with a source of great amusement
 
Surpassing even fashion models,
T-shirts, trousers, caps, wrist watches and bracelets
of flamboyant quality
embroidered their figure
 
Along with funky haircuts
that paved the way for duplicate film stars
Yet I have achieved
the realization of the fact about them being cardboard heroes
The shrill whistles they made,
even in the presence of teachers
ranked them much closer to loiterers
 
Clenching their teeth
they gave their eyes
a wild rotation,
while peeping at untouched girls
 Very awkward,
 was the way they sucked lollipops
 implying their desires, unsatisfied
They consumed their youth
medicating to heal their incurable fevers
with cigarettes, arrack, and
most probably with hired flowers,
letting their beaks drink
the nectar in them
 
 They bragged about their prospect
of soldiering
Holding the bat like a rifle
 and making a stammering noise by mouth
they acted out,
how they expected to shoot
anybody standing in front of them,
and at the end
flung the bat at one of their friends
while the latter gave a painful bark
 
In the examination hall,
the employment of tactics to copy
ran beyond notice
Written in an eraser
 or in a piece of paper folded
to the smallest size
and concealed inside the stapler,
answers passed from hand to hand
 
They tapped at the desk
muttering various songs
The rhythm like throwing gravel
on a corrugated iron sheet
 
Hence,
no value surfaces from their practices or ideals
that I could enfold with wholehearted enthusiasm 
But a priceless lesson captures my focus
taught by them,
 A lesson probing the nature of society