Grey hounds the blues

She remains a mystery diamond.

Her blinking light stays ahead of the blues branding the yellow swifts in love.

Mosaics of the past bring out the lasting limits.

Nothing silences the past in the bullying seasons.

The Crown of the Red dwarfs the vistas of the silky cloudburst.

Oceans drink the endless stream of rivers losing themselves in love.

We see the fish fly in delight at times.

Clicks of the future flick in the pleasant ooze of the present.

We shiver in the dreadful strangeness, while we create a new canvas in the shadows of love lost in life.

His goatee smirks at creativity for ever.

She smiles at his wilful deception to blink out of nothingness.

Her strings of Passion cry aloud to sip the sadness.

He melts with her in love and lust.

Nonchalant is his rocking horse to spill the dots of vacuous splurge of ego.

(Copyright:© Mangalaprathaban Muralidharan, 11 August,2024)

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The Crayons of Love

The Crayons of Love

I storm into her vista of love;

She winks at me.

I smile at her wisdom, 

mimicking my shadows.

Craved for her love, though she frowns upon my delayed response.

I live in a timeless universe 

and empty out everything for her.

We do not silence the echoes of our hearts longing for the communion.

Saddened by the blues of her Utopia, 

my daydreams dive into an ocean of nothingness.

Syncopate the best with the worst,

even when we sing 

a song for the Divine Intervention.

I know all about her crayons.

How do they dance on the blank planks?

I am not flanked by the spies spilling the beans, but my sparrows point out the flimsole line on the sinking ship of a merchant.

(Copyright: ©Mangalaprathaban Muralidharan,July03,2024)

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Mimetics of Mundaneness

Mimetics of Mundaneness

I spin on the web of freedom.

She cries all alone.

To change the needs, the butterflies fly between the jasmines and chrysanthemums.

Folk music geeks into my ears and swings my moods.

Hollow roads are free from biases but a red colour car stays stagnant.

Where are the peacocks irked in the lousy days of summer?

I twitch the angels and the barbed beauties, wherever they strive to be the beasts of fanaticism.

Nothing stops their lunatic narcissism.

We smile at the Moon lit night and its love for the simmering stars.

How is love lost in the world of pious absolutists?

Blossoming roses wink at the lulls of the day!

(Copyright: © Mangalaprathaban Muralidharan, April 24,2024)

( ® All rights reserved)