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,
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.
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,
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.
A Butterfly Girl!
I am a butterfly girl, With beautiful frills, Of printed designs, The body is very thin,
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,
Bold And Beautiful!
Are you the one, my dear, Gone for the plastic shears, Wearing the cream of shrouds, Hiding all flip and flop threads,
The Story Of An Ovum. Happy Iwd.
Destiny is written very clearly, When you are an ovum, Resting in the ovary, To look for your turn,
When I Fail To See
When I fail to SEE the suffering of people,
Do not call me a visually impaired,
But call me a blind.
When I ignore the agony of hard labor,
Do not call me a physically handicapped,
But call me a crippled.
When I am inaudible to the cries of help,