Loaded!
The steep stairs leading to the wisdom,
Where the respected human and divine kingdom,
Walking up may make the legs tired and weak,
The lungs gasping for air, joints shriek,
Looking for something to hold and rest,
Railings look perfect not to get exhaust,
Heaviness of the body suddenly felt,
Carrying the bones and muscle to the top,
Thinking of the souls that are darkened and loaded,
How hard it will be for the souls to fly to the Lords.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Confusion!
The closets full of clothes,
Which one to wear tomorrow,
So confused with color concept,
Checkered, floral and modern design,
Matching belt with right buckle,
Fine leather shoes, not dirtied,
A shelve overflows with sandals,
Slippers, boots and sneakers,
Sometimes feel like crying,
With the confusion of thoughts,
Of not able to choose and wear,
Those who have a few or two,
Pick up one and not waste time,
Wearing the worn out flip-flops.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Reflection and refraction.
As long as we do not pay,
another human well,
we will not be paid well.
As long as we do not appreciate,
the intelligence and innocence,
we will not be appreciated.
As long as we are not aware,
of our own strength and weakness,
we will not be enlightened.
As long as we do not love,
and understand another human,
we will not be loved and understood.
As long as another man's face,
does not smile at us, realize,
his face is our reflection.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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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,
Do not call me a hearing impaired,
But call me a deaf.
When we, the able bodied find it tough,
To survive under the comfortable condition,
How do the disabled survive under the hostile limitation?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Right or Wrong?
We are taught to be patient, when we are provoked,
We are guided to use the low voice, when we are agitated,
We are reminded to use the harsh words, not the tone,
We are expected to be cool even if our pressure surges up,
We have to be perfect, whatever situation we are in,
We have to be pleasant to the eyes, even when not in grin,
What a manipulative human we are, in the name of etiquette,
The toll that we pay is in the form of pain and hurt.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Actions and Karma
As long as the poor people are hungry,
Narcotic departments of certain countries,
Are active and on their toes.
As long as the poor people starve for food,
The children of rich countries,
Crave for drugs.
As long as the war ridden countries are helpless,
The welfare departments of developed nations,
Have to help their single mothers.
As long as the anemic blood of poor is sucked,
the habits of evolved human beings,
ruin their own happiness.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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A Daughter's Plea..
Dyed hair, trimmed mustache,
once six packs mid ribs,
ballooned as 'bear' belly,
toned biceps and triceps,
Dad, you do look handsome,
but do not let my bosom,
friends say that you are awesome,
Look at them as you look at me,
Treat them as you treat me,
Be they a secretary, a nurse,
a subordinate or a colleague,
a stranger or a school girl,
whoever they are as old as me,
at least treat them,
as you treat me.
respect them, as you respect me.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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I Am Inquisitive!
Has anyone become a saint,
after having spirit and wine?
Has anyone become a soothsayer,
after having weeds and smoke?
Has anyone become an elevated,
after choosing spinster ship?
Has anyone become an efficient,
after marrying more than one?
Has anyone become a mighty,
after conquering money market?
Has anyone taken the first,
and the final breath differently?
Has anyone remained free of guilt,
after committing crime to heart and court?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Sulking Flowers
Comparing the bees to the wandering males of human species,
Disheartening the waiting souls at the threshold of floral genesis,
For the pollen these bees brought unknowingly,
The generous flowers tip the nectar unconditionally.
Bees are the messengers, not the rapists as human,
Bees are the servants, not the incest driven as human,
Bees are the courier carriers, not the molesters as human,
Bees are innocent, not the illusionists scoundrels as human.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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A Sad Fact!
Floating in the ocean of hallucination,
Running on the roads of sorrow and commotion,
Rowing in the streams of wasteful dreams,
Spending money in the Malls on empty beams,
Knowledge that possessed drown in cheap alcohol,
wise old human metamorphosed from clever young,
The younger days are spent on booze and weeds,
Human may stumble and stagger at late fifties.
Sick and unhealthy at sixties,
Worries as the companion,
To nurse the failures and despair.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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