Biography of Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi Poems
These people seem to be like the books, scattered all around in different cues, Shelves of books with variant topics: Medicine, Engineering and comics,
A Child In A Man
Testosterone muscled men have, The Top and the center, the caves, Something is there to do the basic, Nothing is there to think angelic,
A Man On The Bridge!
On that old bridge, during the last fight, Threw the ring into the river to drown and rest, Returned to find that young heart in the old body, Still holding the placard of ‘I am sorry' to the wind,
Eye Can'T Lie!
Non verbal signals, Understand the pupils, When these are bigger, smaller and normal, One is attracted to another, the iris open wider, Black grape balls in the white eye balls glitter.
The House Of Joy!
The house full of just played toys, , Just fed bowls, just torn papers, Newly added drawing to the walls, What a pleasure to the eyes and souls,
The Story Of A River!
That empty river was filled with water, Running water never stagnant to collect litter, Clean and clear to see the treasures stored, Heavy pebbles, the quick fish on the soften rocks,
A Bag Of Air!
A bag, that is filled with air, Once torn, the life is gone. Liters of cream to polish, Boxes of moisturizers to nourish,
We Can Do It...
When telling of lies make someone happy, let us lie, When speaking of truth hurt someone, let us lie, When the spouse asks us to assess, let us lie, When the friends pester for opinion, let us lie,
A Snail In The Rain!
The loads of betrayal dwell in the hearts, It's so heavy even to lift the head, The councilors ask me to fly high in the sky, As the dove of a soul released from the body,
Tears may wash away the dirt from the eyes and the hurt from the heart. Fear will wipe away the courage from the heart, and fill the eyes with tears.
when we look for our next dozen sweaters, there are thousands have no even one. wrap themselves in rags that are dirty, lie on the sides hearing heavy sounds.
Baby Dumping In The World!
Mutated flowers and fruits dropp as snowflakes, Born mutated human suffer and seek to be concerned, The grain that implanted in the womb sucked, The fetus formed out of wedlock washed out,
Money And Humanity..
Thousands of years of life, In the small huts beside the rivers, The rain has no power, The wind has no power,
When the mother is left with young children, The hands are full and the mind is not dull, Her eyes are down on the children, who rattle, Not on the spouse, who suddenly stops to tattle,
Moving On With Life...
The path I have taken is not the voyage,
cushioned with unpredictable waves to age,
The path I have chosen is not the journey,
guided and protected with green and blue signs,
I don't know to fly and ascent to golden moon,
I don't understand the digital and analog spoons,
My wings are stuck between sternum and backbones,
My desires are imprisoned to a life sentence,