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Vijayshankar Balasubramanian Poem
Motivate the irate drivers
So that few hours hence,
They forget the traffic who send them shivers.
Talk silently with and feed the hungry, street dog,
When others do not care as if it were another log
Somehow get young kids break into a grin,
Whose parents consider all other than work is sin.
Sow a seed of thought in the confused adolescent,
That takes root and awakens the man in him.
Start and end every party with a joke about yourself,
Not because you are not important,
But because it is important to light sparks,
And your take on yourself always rocks.
In every region in life,
He stands tall who inspires silently,
Without the knowledge of his subjects.
He is the true leader,
Who follows his people,
And to do this is to live the God's life.
Copyright © Vijayshankar Balasubramanian | Year Posted 2014
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Vijayshankar Balasubramanian Poem
It is fearlessness when you explore the lost jungle,
When all around you lose their mind and bungle
It is power when you influence people and soar,
When even the might and brights among us can but only roar
It is education when you read the scriptures with the elite and kings,
Yet sing the folk rhythm with the commonlings
It is humility when you design the missile decoy,
And walk and chat with the newspaper boy
It is class when you dance with the maidens,
Still explore silly options with pet kittens
But most importantly it is hope, when all around you lose hope,
You source a deep inner reservoir of courage and get everyone to cope.
Copyright © Vijayshankar Balasubramanian | Year Posted 2016
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Vijayshankar Balasubramanian Poem
Another birth, Another beauty, Another promise
All worlds, All nature, waiting to size
Striking caution, nimble care,
Motherly eyes survey and dare
Growing eyes, imbibing knowledge
Giving hopes to the future, friends lead from the ledge
Adolescence years, mistaken perceptions
Parents know, eventually they will see from the same lens
Adult choices, few to make
Path for them already made
I plead learn a trade on the sly,
Cut with your niftiest tools and fly,
Pray let's not have another unsung cry.
Copyright © Vijayshankar Balasubramanian | Year Posted 2014
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Vijayshankar Balasubramanian Poem
All winners,
Were once whiners.
It was excruciatingly sunny,
Before they laid hands on money.
More enemies in the stealth,
Than friends with wealth.
They started out dumb,
Eventually saw the shine of wisdom.
Experienced pain,
Before the sweetness of rain.
Twenty hours of Night,
Only four hours of Bright.
Behind a dim glass pane.
Than aboard a jet plane.
Running,
Not Gunning.
On the receiving end.
Not in the lending end.
Under the cover,
Not on top of the tower.
Earning for sanity.
Not for vanity.
Copyright © Vijayshankar Balasubramanian | Year Posted 2014
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Vijayshankar Balasubramanian Poem
The certain few
Lost his family he did,
Agents of the king also him to rid,
Alone and stripped, the warrior waited to get his due
And plan his next strike; he had the resolve of a certain few
The jungle insects nibbling away,
Nowhere to hide and no weapon to keep the predators at bay,
With only the most basal survival instincts standing by his side
And the focus to plan his next strike; he had the resolve of a certain few
Season changed, leaves turned green, fruits turned ripe,
Time to strike.
The execution never goes astray,
Them who wait and plan, they will have their say
For this certain few, awaits God’s grand payday
Copyright © Vijayshankar Balasubramanian | Year Posted 2012
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Vijayshankar Balasubramanian Poem
I saw his face, blood streaming from forehead, still smiling, eyes shining,
He was a victim of an enemy sting.
Three hours back we were both laughing at a very personal joke,
Sharing the last can of a very old stock of coke.
My fingers ached, both my arms were very numb.
Got myself a strong dose of morphine, got hold of a stale bread crumb.
To live, To avenge, for work to be done.
Once more, I picked up my weapon.
The major screamed our next plan,
But we were outnumbered, it was to be the end of our clan.
Bloody battle !! people falling down like erected sticks,
Only this was not a circus, and nobody was doing it for kicks.
I will not be there to see my baby stand,
It is not important !, For us: who defend, us who belong to the warrior band,
The only thought is "The alien's dust shall not settle on our land"
"Till the last of us is buried in the sand",
Copyright © Vijayshankar Balasubramanian | Year Posted 2012
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