How To Be Prosperous

Wearing your beautiful veils of vapor and haze,
Restless, agitate, hyperactive wandering lass,
Hope of reaching the groom, the sun, stagger,
The villain gravity keeps you close to the earth,
Angry maidens grouped tighter to moan,
Their crying dropp down as the elixir to the seeds,
The Mother Earth is not cruel to punish the vapor,
For it evaporates, believing the Sun as the suitor,
What belongs to Mother Earth must return to her,
Sucking those drops of rain to keep safer,
The battle for existence severe than ever,
Where the pain is felt, those places prosper,
Where people strive harder and smarter,
There, the country blooms bounty and fresher.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Wishing And Willing..

When the baby kicks in the womb,
A few parents touch to have the kick,
Most mothers excited, while the fathers too,
A few miss this opportunity as not bothered to,
The crying of the babies never fails to wake up,
The loving hearts of the mother and father,
The crying of the mothers never fails to shaken up,
The young hearts of children, who see the rift,
Hearts of children love their mother,
As it listened to her beats day and night,
Hearts of children are attracted to the mother,
As she is the one, who listens to their blabber,
The crying of babies never fails to wake up the mother,
The crying of mothers never fails to shaken up the children.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Stop crying

Stop crying when someone abuses you,
The crying makes the abuser more abusive.
Stand against evil and strive for your rights,
Never shed another dropp of hot tear.

Troubles look so troubled,
After you pick up the confidence.
When thousands of stars and human smile at you,
Why do you weep silently?

Your wings are tied if the cocoon is your dwelling,
Break open the cocoon and spread your wings,
Then The whole world is yours to explore,
Enjoy the wind and sun and have fun.

When the rules of humanity are followed,
When the responsibilities are well observed,
When we are faithful, we will have peace,
No treasure equals that peace and we are blessed.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The meadows.

The green velvety grass land,
Sway back and forth with band,
I am a seed with the woody gene,
Dispersed in various meadows of greens,
Alpine is so steep with pride and intelligence,
Even I sprout and can't hold the terrain,
Elevated people may have the wisdom,
Trees seldom find solace in such stardom.
Prairies are my next target,
Where I want to try my luck,
Caught with notorious angry wildfire,
Thirsty drought, no life tree can prosper.
When coastal meadows are full of salty sweats,
The desert meadows are hot tempered,
Wet meadows are full of river of tears,
Not compatible for me to grow and fruit.
Not suitable for me to have life and laughter.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Girls May Lose

The garden of fragrant flowers,
Saw her running towards, orders,
The buds to bloom and disperse,
The scent to her perfumed hair,
On smelling the new fragrance,
The butterflies escape from cocoons,
Assuming her face for a flower,
They swirl around her in trance,
To suck the sweet nectar,
Too afraid to face the intruders,
She runs away to have the shelter,
In the arms of a masked human, a spoiler,
Thinking of him as a rescuer,
Assuming him as a wonderful lover,
The girls may lose their peace for a favor,
the girls who hang out for fun,
may lose their peace to a con.
boys not carry the loads to remember,
but the girls carry to think and despair.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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What is that?

When we are free,
what it is, that chained us,
with the hearts of others,
other than the love,
that we have upon them.

When we are free,
to earn and live alone,
what it is, that really matters,
to seek the opinions of others,
and has the value more than the love.

When we are free,
to choose and marry,
what it is, that instilled in us,
to get the consent of parents,
before every decision and event.

What is that?
That binds our hearts,

[...] Read more

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Globalized Chocolates!

Extracted from the seeds of tropical climate,
Unearthed the remnants of sweet beverage,
The drink of Natives for many thousand years,
Imported to the Europe as cocoa seeds and solids,
When the dark cocoa solid and cocoa butter,
Emulsified with white milk, the recipe found,
In the continent of Europe, but in South America,
Natives were slaughtered, their notes burned,
Their temples, culture and identity ruined,
Their women were separated and raped,
The chocolate was born in the continent of white,
where white, dark and mixed chocolates are sold,
recipe exported to every nook and corner of the world,
the globalization of a commodity before the chips.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The fence of fire!

Without rubbing of stones, gas and current,
A spark at the mind, thus small flame at the heart,
The big fire in the thought, inferno body,
Hot abuse words and violent razing actions.

Add the charcoal of abusive words,
Press the high at insulting deeds,
Behind the glass, the micro angry waves,
Unseen blazing fire fence erected.

Can't stand near it and cross over it,
Can't see through it and have peace in it,
To douse the fire, call the love fire fighters,
Spray the kind water and foam to dry the fire.

Don't let our mind to boil over,
Petite incidents of thrifty nature,
Be generous in affection to cool down,
Unseen fire boundary of fence between us.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The wish of a streetchild..

A needle and some thread to sew the torn trousers,
A heart to share the umbrella while it rains,
A town hall that not switch off the street lights at midnight,
Some coconut oil to spread on the slipper less sore feet,
A shade to hang the wet clothes in rainy days,
To hide from the sun during long summer rays,
Need enough old newspaper to make the bed,
On The folding arms, the head can rest,
No one chase away from this place reserved,
Owner of the shop, kind enough not to splash water,
Tomorrow need not be as hard as today,
Hundreds of children on the streets, not empty,
Struggle to survive in the adult platform,
Those little fingers do the work multiform.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Habits And The Development.

Early birds wake up early to get the juiciest fruits,
Modern Men fail to sleep by working three shifts,
Countries where men are awake with bustling cities,
Where their forefathers were smart and intelligent,
To forecast the future of their children of children,
Without the corruption of corrupted vision.
Our forefathers were the reason for our failures,
Of having inefficient population and the leaders,
Who have failed to wake up early morning,
To look at the rising sun that glowing,
In the countries, where the roads are vacant,
Where railway and bus stations are empty,
Where people are still in bed at six and after,
There, people live in poverty and despair.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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