Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi


New Girl! - Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

The mighty crescent moon has become a sickle,
surrounded by the fancily dressed stars;
wants to harvest the hearts of the valiant,
to display on the banquet decor of unknown faith,

The trillions of cells in me are hungry and thirsty,
wagging my tail of foolishness to look for a Bakery,
where I can find some fresh breads, cakes and cokes,
one meal of mine is satiated, the rest are on the loose.

My hungriness has various colors and smell,
for which I can't wash away the satan in my nostrils,
the melodious songs from the throats of the living,
and non living always expand my hunger to be stronger,

My life is not around a person who has many passions,
I am a human with a revolutionized head and dreams,
why I have to be in inconvenience as the men can't hide,
I have to remove all these dirt of lies to shine as a jewel..

Topic(s) of this poem: religions

Form: Free Verse


Poet's Notes about The Poem

As the Satan, the evil dwells in the nostrils, the believers are asked to wash the nostril by pouring the water in the holes..

Comments about New Girl! by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

  • Akhtar Jawad (8/23/2016 9:58:00 AM)


    Our ancestors knew many things that are better for them, but they gave such things a reason that was easy to their approach. Washing is good for human health and their was scarcity of water in the desert. To encourage them for washing such things were told to them. (Report) Reply

    V S (8/23/2016 7:14:00 PM)

    thank you for your lovely comment, Akhtar Jawad.

    everyone can reason for doing various acts voluntarily, forcefully, religiously and culturally, but the problem here is to threaten ignorant as well as intelligent human like you to get connected with unknown factors, to establish a certain principles from not witnessed source of action.
    The names of five pillars are too good, but the way these principles are instilled in hearts of the followers are not compromised by keeping them in the one way streets, having the guards at both entrances; one by the strict and surgical individuals and other by a monotheist super power who is very partial and classify the human into two categories as the Fidel and infidels...a Tiger with the peace printed fur..

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  • Gajanan Mishra (8/23/2016 12:04:00 AM)


    I have to remove all the dirts, nothing but truth is there in life that is without dirts, love is also there, good. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, August 22, 2016



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