Shying Sailors of My Emotions

I hurry to dance with her foppish thoughts.

I don’t blitzkrieg thawing blues and feisty bulls.

Digging thy mirages, I fumble thy intuitive images.

Great thoughts click my actions all at once.

I flick the unknown switch within me to fill thy beams.

Greek and Latin, she sounds in love and lust,

But I am quite unaware of cruel jokes on her modesty.

Life is love etched in eternity with icing bubbles of time.

I kill my flying kites of will and wink against all odds.

Cleopatra never belongs to the blue-blooded Jinx.

Dudes poison my limericks and make me a Maverick.

I often paint myself in blue and black.

I shout at my anger in silence.

Flouted my mind games, I usurp my window shields.

My eyes are full.

I become a flute in the hands of The Lord.

Traditional Blinkers

Occult biases my lingering

thoughts of a base

stench in my traditional blinkers.

Infinitude

Infinitude is a glow

filling thy grace

in a limitless space.

Intelligence for a Fool

Intelligence

is her name,

after she called me a fool.

Firing My Imagination

I am a Volcano,

Still in Mind and Heart,

Firing my imagination.

Lingering Memory Lanes

Lingering Memory Lanes fill my void;

I hit the bull  but bait

for the sweet roses around the bushy thorns.

I etched the minds of those paintings

flowering all of a sudden on a blank sheet.

I missed my bus without any buzz.

She called me to lit the lamp.

I am a light beyond darkness.

Why should I make her bright out of blues?

I am browned off to frown upon her request.

Thy smiling lulls my sensuous heart.

I am out to trade off with thy heart.

Minting her voiceless thoughts.

I mask my ideas in black and white.

She travels through my beaming streams of dreams.

I whistle for helping hands...

She whisked me away without any reason.

Little Doubt now, about her connivance.

Grilled my mindless passions to walk away with her.

I am all alone to fight my battle;

None knows how it shapes...

Everything lingers in my memory lanes

Thy Painting Glues My Heart

I fill my sense of void with guitar.

She frowns at my fibs and seals my lips in shy.

I nail my feelings of love in words.

I cry aloud;but none fails to sail across the ocean of joy.

She heaps praise over my breathless passion for miniature paintings.

I am not Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci to create Mona Lisa;

Hey!Sculpting  my Mona Lisa to speak with love in silence,

I wake up to dream again for a Virgin of Rocks.

Swelling with thy pride of chastity, I smile at my poetic licence.

I am a man of melting passions and winking limits of the Divine Order.

I am billing my thoughts to numb my chaotic freeze.

She mixes her smile with love and pulls me up all of a sudden.

I am yet to see a wooden dummy in the mirth of love.

She flicks her nails to click a moment of   this crazy painter.

I paint in words without any canvass.

Minting my thoughts into words becomes my breath.

I am willing to swim across thy ocean of love.

Can she be my Saviour? Miracles happen in our deep faith.