November 3, 2015 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION


Indunil Madhusankha



The Grave of Stomach


The pig swollen with pink flesh,

from the butchery

transported straight into the oven

in the form of pungent pork

And then, it immediately rushes to your plate

in a wide variety of names, hues and flavours

Sausages, sandwiches, ham, bacon or gammon

that make you roll your tongue around your lips

as much saliva engulfs your mouth

Then it is ground by

your meat-eating teeth

and it creeps through the gorge of your mouth

into the cave where the meat rots

And the ugly beast

that once caused a sick making disgust

even making you to close your nostrils

at its presence

now sleeps in your stomach

Sleeps its penultimate sleep

in your grave of stomach!









 She was Raththi, black and white

 A loving grandmother to the children

 She played with them running

 throughout the garden

 A milky spring of endearing and enduring affection,

 definitely was she

 As time passed by,

 the infirmities of old age enveloped her life

 So in one cold evening

 when even the sky was heavy with dark clouds,

 blackened like charcoal,

 a belching vehicle came

 A slight breeze stirred the branches

 The small bell around her neck was untied

 She nodded her head quite tremulously

 Raththi was loaded to the truck which then hurried off

 while the beady eyes of the children

 were floating in a pool of tears


 She was dumped in a gloomy, wired hut

 It was then the morning

 A big, gaudy man clad in black appeared

 A picture of a monster was glaring in his shirt

 He cackled with delight

 muttering, “good gracious”

 “Bhaaaaha”, the long, loud yelling

 spreading over miles and miles

 with a repellently repetitive echo

 Paws were stretched but in vain

 All of a sudden there was a fountain of bloodshed

 as the flesh hungry chopper

 pierced through her body

 Her limbs were still struggling against each other

 Thus the scream ended with a last breath



 Blood staining, stinking huge flesh slices

 placed on stalls with labels

 “1 kg – Rs. 200”, “1 kg – Rs. 250” and “1 kg – Rs. 300”

 It was the share of her heart

 that demanded

 the highest price.

 Skinned flesh cords, curdled with blood

 hanging down from the blacking grey rack

 Yes, exactly they were Raththi’s!








Indunil Madhusankha

Indunil Madhusankha is currently an undergraduate in 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 contemporary society. Besides that, Indunil’s works have been featured in several international anthologies and journals.


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