BORDER  CRIMINALES

Buenos dias, Estimados Senores.

Yo tengo nueve anos, y…

(Psst!  Ingles, por favor!)

Okay.  Nine years old.

Behind bars como animales peligrosos.

Been here a week or two.

The angry guards,

they do not give us much food.

All night I am so hungry.

Bright lights all day, all night.

I do not sleep much.

Dirty cement is a cold bed.

I curl up next to little Diego,

to keep him warm.

But he has no diaper.

Sometimes he pees on us both.

We stink.  We itch.  We shiver.

He cries for his Mama.

He cries because he is hungry, too.

I hug him and pull bugs out of his hair.

Back home we had warm water.

We could wash with soap.

We had a blanket.

We had a toilet to use.

Abuela would brush my hair and braid it.

I was una nina.

Now I am Mamacita.

We ran away in the night

because the bad people were coming.

Maybe the bad people caught us.

Maybe that is why we are all here.

This cage is small.

There are so many on the floor,

I can not walk without tripping on an arm or leg.

Someone threw up.

We step around it.

I think about Mama,  Papa,  Tia Rosa,

Tia Inez y Tio Guillermo, y mi Abuela.

When Diego is not looking, I cry a little, too.

Where did they go?

Maybe the bad people killed todas las familias…?

Poor Diego, he is just a baby.

And he is hungry.

Okay,  I told my story.

Now what?

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LOVE AND LIES

Even though I dwell in the world of man,

Where love is as a drop of water in an open dessert,

Love has become uncherished and vain,

And though my heart is open and forgiving,

And take life as is,

And fate as to be,

And will to take it all and more,

But without all this,

Dwelling in the world of now,

Pain is just a breath away.

Even though I suffer for the world of man,

Take the pain for another,

And have not a drop of love,

I am as an empty barrel.

Love takes all without judgement,

Lasts forever,

Is kind,

Love doesn’t boast of its power,

Love is meek and acepts all,

Is precious and dwells in thoughts of good,

It endures all the doings of man,

Love never fails, but where there is darkness and unforseen evil,

It dies.

Love is not fully known,

It is mystery in itself,

But where Love is fully worshiped it shall blossom and cleanse.

Lies is like the other side of the world,

Where man finds power,

And sees as a source of hope.

Lies is just like a pandora’s box,

When reaveled all the stains of the world and man,

Is open and stoned,

Lies takes all and gives none,

That is why love is the spring that washes away all filth of man,

And is the light that guides the world into solace and eternal peace.

  Continue reading →

Indunil Madhusankha is currently a Lecturer in the Department of Decision Sciences at the Faculty of Business of the University of Moratuwa. 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 focusing on the burning issues in the contemporary society. Moreover, Indunil’s works have been featured in many international anthologies, magazines and journals.

Waiting for that Beautiful Day to Dawn 

(Previously published in the Tuck Magazine on 12th October 2015)

Do you ever reminisce?

The endearing times we spent together

sitting on a bench in the park

amidst the towering trees

replete with yellowish jacaranda cascading down

Or how we drew figures on the sand

with the tips of our fingers

while wandering along the sea belt

You promised me

caressing my hands

that you would never let go of them

And, one day, you would clasp my arm

and walk with me to the farthest horizon

Thus we dreamt of the dawn of a beautiful day

Yet, it didn’t take that long for you

to fade from my sight

Along with those sketches on the sand

melting away in the harsh waves

that abruptly broke on the shore

And I have no idea,

how incorrigible my heart is

The harder I try to refrain from lingering

The more I find myself immersed

Despite the awareness of the bitter truth,

I keep praying again and again

waiting for that beautiful day to dawn

Continue reading →

Memory

Steady afternoon of brown lights. A

boy dicing dusty sheets into his fragile

mouth. The teacher’s room in tumour.

Flayed papers flying around.

It is a classroom. The seats look creak

enough to break the silence of the day.

The atmosphere so blue we planted & bred

flowers inside our throat.

Two bodies bridging the

bond between breaths. Your Lanky

hands on a child so dear. It was a first

time i breathed as one with you.

We found our way into deeper lands –

wet and drippy – through tunnels. An

unending tickling amidst short cackles

and silent whispers.

Steady afternoon of brown lights. A

boy dicing dusty sheets into his fragile

mouth. The teacher’s room in tumour.

Flayed papers flying around.

Continue reading →