The Elite's Sigma

The Elite's Sigma

Flags fly on and off!

The Sigma of life lies with us.

Never do they allow anyone to hoist the flag of selfless service.

Every iota of life smiles at your homeward.

Thinking all about how his father served the nation with absolute love and commitment, he finds a few staying quite calm in the service.

Creamy layer of the elite enjoy everything together with love to make more money.

Sensing the seasons of lucrative business,they become turncoats quite often.

Piling up with the same, I ask myself-- "what is next?"

Trust triumphs over everything.

Flagged off the championship in sanity.

He dries his crystals for simmering signs of filibusters.

I am a wayward sage to sculpt my poems.

(Copyright:© Mangalaprathaban Muralidharan, November 25,2023)

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Tiny Mole on Her Faceless Painting

Strident limits die out of luck when a spinning ball dances in the mid air.

Dripping lanes of a rainy town smirk at the brimming clout of drainages.

Water flows free of all biases, beyond the bridge and beneath the bridge.

Gripping the tides of wonder, frantic grinders flip through the mosaic of minds while flaundering the limestones.

I will outsmart my blissful soul and seek the serene pulls of sages,to dwell on meditative stillness.

I am completely free now to dance with cosmos and bank upon my sedate oneness.

I ask myself--"what makes me the liberated self?"

I love those days of destiny etched in euphoria of love linked with lyrics.

Waving the blues of love, I pounce upon the unknown corridors of power caught up with binding fists.

Deserted and decked up all day long, the synagogue seeks to be in the company of a Wailing Wall .

The temple towers smile at the horizon for the dawning moments of pious devotees.

Greying inches on our futile extravaganza.

(Copyright: ©Mangalaprathaban Muralidharan, November 16,2023)

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Frenzy at the melting moments of love

Frenzy at the melting moments of love inks a bizzare portrait of a new stream of life.

Lights speak with darkness once again to seek the refuge in our mindspace.

Moon minds the Sun lit dome of stars eschewing the dark crown at times.

Occassionally, fleecy clouds ripen up to gel with the Earth.

Berries of the day dive deep into the world of tasty mouths.

We are free to choose the days before the depths of love longing for the sake of itself in the blushing thrills of buoyancy.

Miniatures are being made for each other while the artist in you sews the blues with the brownie points.

"I am not bound to the screws and nuts of the past, " says the age-old motorbike parked at her home.

Everything has life lost in the mindless love.

Mind blows the furnace of love moist in the realm of tears buried in the clutches of dogma.

Husky voices are pulled up to furnish the voiceless but excruciating pain missed in dripping days of the rain.

(Copyright: ©Mangalaprathaban Muralidharan, November 11,2023)

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Crocodiles of the Pacific Ocean

Crocodiles dive deep into the unknown corridors of  volcanoes breathing in silence.

Seething through the lava, volcanoes never ooze their memories of the past.

Our shadows of the past flicker through the silent mode of volcanic eruption.

Hiccups are hijacked by all of us.

We drive ourselves away from the past and future.

We are not the echoes of the past but citadels of the present in an enigmatic way.

Crayons cry aloud while drawing the faceless mosaic of our monopolies.

Crocodiles of the day drink water without passing the tides of the past.

Snoring through the day, I smile at myself and my imagination.

Creating a new horizon for the crocodiles is what the world of aquatic creatures long for.

Urged you to swipe away the dormant customs in our social fabrics,I smell the blushing spills of love hatched in creative anonymity.

(Copyright: Mangalaprathaban Muralidharan, November 04,2024)

Mirage of reality sculpt in nothingness

Strangeness inks its origin of mundane nothingness through the iotas of war blowing its echelons of greed for land.

Their  lust for power sweeps away all at once, children, youngsters with future dreams and elderly people.

We see the claws enmeshed in the 

symbiotics with emboldened fanaticism. 

Irked by the devastations, a few stay saddened but the mirthful psychopaths keep counting their coins and currencies.

Where do we plant a sapling when you bombard the earth with your ignorance?

Streets get deserted and the little ones do not know the meaning of love and hate all of a sudden.

Stripping off the hatred, what else do they have in creating a mayhem? 

Lunatics are on their way to rationalise a war but the blessings of the World are only for unconditional peace and love.

Love never limits you in and out of all that you have been.

Strive for peace and stay with the elixir of love for all.No bombardments.No barriers of race and religion can stand against the power of  love.

Oh! It is time for the Heavens to stifle 'Hell let loose' in the name of war.

Oh! Mother Earth bless us with peace and love forever.

Om Shanti!

Om Shanti!

Om Shanti!

Santihi...

(Copyright: ©Mangalaprathaban Muralidharan, Oct31,2023)

(All rights reserved ®)

NB: This poem is dedicated to the hapless victims of war between Israel and Palestine.

The Genetic Myopia

 

Shadows sink in nothingness found everywhere!

Life is a series of shadows mimicking the Bulls!

Jack of all trade grasps us for a yellow metal.

He sips his cup of tea in a lethargic way.

Flipping through the eons of the mindless miracles, the Bismarck strips his strides in a moment.

I am not sure whether the Cannibalism is still inbuilt in the genetic myopia of psychopaths, who dream of  egotistic usurpation.

Synagogues stand above the stocks of the mundane life,but the universe of love limits those lost in inhumane profiteering.

I love what I do in every moment of spiritual communion with Buddha.

Saints drink oneness everywhere and in everything.

How have you transmuted donkeys into horses?

(Copyright: Mangalaprathaban Muralidharan, August20,2023)

(NB: This poem is dedicated to all the seekers, who thrive for universal oneness.)

Smeared with the Holy Ash

I found Him standing on the entrance of that 'Spanda' Hall;

Time was ticking so fast but it appeared to be illusion for my mind at first.

A few minutes later, I found the Lord Shiva standing with his 'Thrisul' at a reachable distance.

Revealtions of the Divine Being echo the everlasting ecstasy in communion.

I am inseparable from the boundlessness of grace inbuilt in the Eternity.

"What am I supposed to be? 

Who am I?"  are unanswered questions in my quest.

Being and Becoming are not etched in the rationalist proportions of free will.

I am yet to discover what it is to drink the elixir of ecstatic oneness, though I meditate on and off.

My blissful love sinks in my daily routine.

I am being created by the bliss of all that the Universe moulds me in the flow of time.

I stay blessed with whatever I am doing.

My quietitude synergises with sarcastic simulations done by a few to obscure my creativity.

We are born with fire to strive beyond the known boundaries.

(Copyright: ©Mangalaprathaban Muralidharan,July25,2023)

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