Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi Poems

A man with a white stick walking on the street,
The ears sharpen the sense for the clues to get,
The nose may help him to identify a place through smell,
The tiles at the center may lead him as wheels.
...

Have to wake up,
before the tiredness,
of yesterdays fades away.
...

What else shall we have, in the selfish community?
That always behaves, as if the poor not exist.
They need us to move their machines,
Toil in their fields and hit their key boards.
...

When you throw,
the words of knife,
at me,
I change that into a spade,
...

We may be peaceful, when there is noise,
Clattering sound of monstrous machines,
Rattling fun of relatives of choice,
Seldom affect the peace that defines.
...

If I am put in a cage,
I will sing the melodious songs,
to make my oppressor,
to accompany me,
...

Give me your hand.
Male the right hand,
and the female the left.
...

Starless sky is my blanket,
when I sit in my roof top garden.
Still trees are my escorts,
Hiding me from shine, rain and intruders.
...

When the doubts are not cleared,
When the truth is not told,
When silence is kept as so dear,
Then the hatred starts to tear.
...

When we step on a heart,
to flirt with another,
and then get forgiven:
the process looks simple,
...