veeraiyah subbulakshmi


disorder.


Thousands of years I roam around these regions,
Where I no more find my darling pigeons,
I stand here at half past three at night,
Behind me is the esplanade empty in delight,
Gone are the human to have their rest,
Come back to disturb me again at eight,
I am the soul of this oceanic earth, under hallucination,
Dumped are those wastes on my plantation,
Gardens of corals gone forever, on the sea bed,
Companions of fauna seldom visit to feed,
Human dump their waste as if I am their bin,
Barges and boats threaten us, who are in,
Not enough having our own hot and fast currents,
Ignorant human test their weapons in forefront,
Thousands of species sick, unhealthy and mutated,
As far as unseen, nothing happens to these half baked,
Scientists and politicians of the new world,
I am the soul of the oceans, chased into the deep water,
Once in a while I, too visit the shore of soil not to trigger,
The tsunami or hardship to the children of my breast,
Who wandered naked in the virgin jungles and forests,
These human not only dress themselves with attires,
They expose all my curves in bright xenon and neon glamor.

Submitted: Sunday, June 10, 2012

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