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Best Poems From
NIKHIL PAREKH
(27/08/1977)
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61.
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Heartbeat
Honest and Heartfelt,
Passionate and Princely,
Immaculate and Innocent,
Flamboyant and Fantastic,
Surreal and Soothing,
Voluptuous and Victorious,
Bonding and Benevolent,
Gregarious and Gallivanting,
Marvelous and Mitigating,
Alluring and Alleviating,
Wholesome and Wonderful,
Triumphant and Trustworthy,
Truthful and Tangy,
Adorning and Adorable,
Rejuvenating and Rhapsodic,
Ingratiating and Immaculate,
Incarcerating and Illustrious,
Picturesque and Phlegmatic,
Congenial and Charismatic,
Seductive and Sedating,
Playful and Profuse,
Dynamic and Delectable,
Colorful and Culminating,
Blistering and Benign,
Beautiful and Believing,
Nostalgic and Naughty,
Emphatic and Ecclesiastical,
Eloquent and Enduring,
Mystical and Majestic,
Handsome and Honorable,
Insatiable and Incredulous,
Enchanting and Enormous,
Sweet and Smiling,
Tantalizing and Tumultuous,
Vibrant and Vivacious,
Prudent and Piquant,
Fortified and Fulminating,
Pleasant and Perspicacious,
Sagacious and Sacrosanct,
Placating and Philanthropic,
Pulsating and Palpitating,
Intricate and Indispensable,
Swanky and Serene,
Continuous and Camaraderie,
Infinite and Inexplicable,
Affable and Astronomical,
Gigantic and Genial,
Sensational and Solemn,
Definite and Delightful,
Real and Regale,
Euphoric and Exultating,
Brilliant and Bountiful,
Redolent and Ravishing,
Titillating and Transcending,
Undulating and Unveiling,
Shy and Scintillating,
Volatile and Vespered,
Rampant and Remembering,
Friendly and Flirtatious,
Grandiloquent and Generous,
Steaming and Subtle,
Leading and Lascivious,
Laudable and Loving,
Intimate and Illuminating,
Altruistic and Airborne,
Enticing and Exotic,
Zany and Zealous,
Ardent and Automatic,
Fervent and Flourishing,
Blazing and Blossoming,
Auspicious and Absorbing,
Stimulating and Sensuous,
Ultimate and Utopia,
Penetrating and Puristic,
Holistic and Hundred,
Cute and Celestial,
Crisp and Cumulative,
Pungent and Peaceful,
Eclectic and Esoteric,
Quintessential and Quivering,
Unrelenting and Unfazed,
Daunting and Dancing,
Chirpy and Chivalrous,
Flaming and Fulsome,
Scholarly and Stylish,
Sedulous and Salient,
Golden and Glamorous,
Magnificent and Maneuverable,
Loquacious and Levitating,
Singing and Salty,
Invincible and Inducing,
Immortal and Imminent,
Divinely and Devotional,
Appetizing and Aboriginal,
Rudimentary and Rustic,
Silken and Salubrious,
Courageous and Cascading,
Living and Lightening,
Evolving and Eternal,
Was the tiny little and Godly Heartbeat….
(c) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: beautiful poems, believe poems, dance poems, remember poems, smile poems
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62.
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Houses
If i lived in a house blended with ripened banana,
clusters of the fresh green fruit extruding in
abundance from the roof,
i wouldn't have to cook my meal; surviving handsomely
on slices of sugary
white pulp.
if i resided in a house made of invincible steel
bereft of corrugations,
and the beds being of molten iron curry,
i would seldom fall into bouts of sleep; roaming around
wildly in sheer
insomnia.
if i dwelt in a house impregnated with fearsome
alligator skin,
bold premonitions of the monster encroaching would
nictitate in my mind,
prompting me to sweat even in the freezing winter
night.
if i occupied a house painted with cow dung plaster,
with fresh cakes of goat manure adhered to the floor,
the preposterous stench would suffocate me to
unwarranted death.
if i slept in a house made of articulate time pieces,
the needle hands ticking in obstreperous unison,
i would continue to inhabit this earth with a niggling
conciousness of
evanescent time.
if i occupied a house with symmetrical holes in the
roof,
with barren spaces impersonating clerestory windows,
water would cascade down torrentially in the monsoon,
transforming my abode into a sea of fresh liquid.
if i established my entity in a house juxtaposed with
slabs of yellow gold,
also an incessant cascade of sparkling silver from the
tall roof,
i would be sure of wasting the remainder of my life
counting the affluence i
possessed.
and if by chance i procured a house in sacrosanct
realms of heaven,
with fairy god mothers flying around,
the philanthropic personality of almighty ready to
converse with me all day,
i would consider myself as someone blessed with the
most cherishable house of
all.
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: house poems, fairy poems, silver poems, winter poems, green poems, sleep poems, water poems, heaven poems, sea poems, death poems, time poems, god poems
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63.
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I hate the high society
High society was pompously spurious; blowing
pricelessly precious moments of sacrosanct life; in
wisps of obnoxiously sleazy cigar smoke,
High society was abhorrently malicious; invidiously
castigating its own counterpart behind their back;
while garnering a sanctimonious smile in front of the
same,
High society was inconspicuously threadbare; harboring
diabolically ominous tendencies for the miserably
oppressed; evolving castles of rotting currency on
their poignantly scarlet blood,
High society was spuriously ostentatious; diffusing
the entire tenure of their claustrophobic life; in
dungeons of hideously ungainly manipulation,
High society was brutally tyrannical; indiscriminately
lambasting the diminutively innocent; to baselessly
inundate their venomous treasuries; with even the very
last iota of food in their impoverished stomachs,
High society was insanely ludicrous; unrelentingly
dictating the poor to polish their worthless shoes;
then wholeheartedly laughing their hearts out;
admiring their capriciously grotesque reflection in
the same,
High society was ghoulishly devilish; preposterously
drinking wine in the realms of their own cheaply
glittering chambers; while the immaculately blissful
commoner shivered uncontrollably; in the acridly
freezing maelstrom outside,
High society was ambiguously hypocrite; perennially
breaking hearts like frigid matchsticks; with their
devilishly unholy promise towards the chapter of
resplendent life,
High society was truculently unforgiving;
cold-bloodedly treating even the most inadvertently
committed of mistakes; with the vindictively gory heel
of their satanic shoe,
High society was abominably authoritative; salaciously
dictating their unfathomable graveyard of whims and
woes; upon the wonderfully ingratiating fabric of
eternal mankind,
High society was treacherously bombarding; demonically
marauding the symbiotically triumphant happiness of
every righteous household; with raunchily stinking
notes of indescribable corruption,
High society was surreptitiously precarious; giving
you the merciless slip towards the corpses of ultimate
death; when you thought you had secured an invincible
stranglehold on the fortress of bountiful life,
High society was heinously wasting; inviting their
snobbishly silken cats to eat in plates of
fathomlessly scintillating silver; while the
disastrously orphaned urchin was breathing his very
last outside,
High society was egregiously parasitic; barbarically
sucking rivers of blood to rejuvenate their
meaningless lives; when all what they actually needed
was just two droplets of holistic water,
High society was indefatigably fretting; agonizingly
complaining about God’s panoramically resplendent
creation; just because the Sun filtered an iota too
more through their murderously tinted glass,
High society was a ridiculously dead skeleton;
incessantly witnessing the Lord’s beautifully fragrant
creation through glasses of lecherously licentious
wine; and then collapsing into countless bits of
worthless chowder; as the wind increased its pace even
an inconspicuously exhilarating trifle,
High society was ruthlessly heartless; malevolently
betraying the souls of impregnably true lovers;
morbidly incarcerating them within jailhouses of
sanctimonious status; caste; creed and tribe,
High society was tumultuously penalizing; lunatically
violating God’s every divinely virtue; having the
wealth to purchase every confectionary with the
opulence in their pockets; yet remaining a sordid
failure in the pages of existence,
High society was a robotic tycoon; self-conceitedly
squelching the winds of voluptuously regale artistry
and breath; with inclemently mechanical behavioral
patterns; all throughout the day and enchanting night,
High society was a uxorious dog; uncontrollably
wagging its criminally slavering tongue; at even the
most fugitively ethereal insinuation of titillation
and extra wealth,
High society was parsimonious mosquito; nonsensically
disseminating its affluence on nubile vixen and
bawdiness; bereft of even the tiniest beat of
perpetual love in its insides,
High society was a hollow termite; horrifically
guzzling the threads of harmony; symbiotism; unity;
with its canines of torturously vengeful prejudice,
High society was an asphyxiating web; which tightened
the noose of its ill will more tautly upon you every
unfurling minute; derogatorily drowning the element of
sparkling truth in your persona; with its gutters of
inevitable lies,
High society was torturously imprisoning; crippling
the wings of your fascinatingly seductive freedom not
only for this; but for an infinite more lives,
High society was a boundless sea allright; but without
even the most mercurial trace of waves; compassion and
sensuously redolent togetherness,
High society was an ostracizing gallows; lividly
laughing at traumatizing sorrow around them; basking
in the glory of their falsely fiasco brawn and might,
High society was arrogantly deceitful; bending down
like a obeisant snail in front of lambasting
superpowers; whereas the Creator ruled every bit of
this endless Universe; ever since the moment it was
born,
High society was unreasonably questioning; wretchedly
molesting innocuous organisms; for ostensibly no fault
of theirs or their humbly humanitarian kind,
High society was an impudent stone; shattering not
only the truthful glasses; but the irrefutably
patriotic conscience of a synergistically common man,
High society was pretentiously civilized; behaving
like a astronomically nail polished angel on the
bustling streets; while ripping each other apart worse
than what wolves could execute; in the bloodstained
upholstery of their castle room,
High society was pugnaciously blinded; maniacally
overlooking even the most magnificently majestic
empathy around; in the monstrously debilitating shine
of incongruous coin,
And although it was unfortunate but true that I was
born amidst its integrally sodomizing cradle; I had;
am; and will always hate the high society till the end
of my time; and in every blessed life of mine….
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: hate poems, prejudice poems, dog poems, angel poems, freedom poems, food poems, silver poems, sorrow poems, truth poems, smile poems, water poems, wind poems, sea poems, river poems
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64.
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If you really felt sorry
Don’t just repeat POVERTY tirelessly and then feel
remorseful; pathetically nodding your head; as if the
most unassailable messiah of bereaved humanity,
If you really felt sorry from the bottom of your
heart; then vanquish it forever from its very
non-existent roots; and from even the most
infinitesimal corner of the pompously rigid society…..
Don’t just spell POVERTY incessantly and then feel
regretful; lugubriously crossing your fingers; as if
all mercy had wholesomely disappeared from the
trajectory of this colossal planet,
If you really felt sorry from the bottom of your
heart; then unflinchingly surge forward to scrap even
the most inconspicuous of its essence from this
fathomless Universe; philanthropically mitigate all
organism alive from its devastating stranglehold….
Don’t just visualize POVERTY indefatigably and then
feel destroyed; uncontrollably wailing like a
scarecrow umpteenth number of times in a single
minute,
If you really felt sorry from the bottom of your
heart; then extricate it for times immemorial with the
sparkling righteousness in your soul; enveloping even
the most fugitively capricious speck of this globe
with a wave of eternally resplendent compassion….
Don’t just witness POVERTY intransigently and then
feel gruesomely assassinated; nonchalantly sniffing
your nose towards the heavens to put the entire blame
upon Lord Almighty,
If you really felt sorry from the bottom of your
heart; then behead it for infinite more births yet to
unveil with the religion of humanity enshrouding your
conscience; ubiquitously disseminate your happiness to
all those unfortunately hapless and deprived….
Don’t just whisper POVERTY unrelentingly and then feel
like threadbare shit; abominably puking out even the
last morsel of food from your languidly churning
stomach,
If you really felt sorry from the bottom of your
heart; then drive it away with the Omnisciently
sacrosanct shadow of truth; ingratiatingly share the
woes and overwhelming trauma of your counterparts and
alien; beautifully alike…..
Don’t just memorize the spelling of POVERTY
incorrigibly to appear for the examinations; and then
feel like an infinitesimally sinful debris of ghoulish
insanity,
If you really felt sorry from the bottom of your
heart; then perpetually substitute it with benign love
and care; inundating each arena of this insurmountably
gigantic Universe with an ocean of celestially
humanitarian empathy….
Don’t just reminisce POVERTY insatiably and then feel
exonerated; collapsing like a frigid matchstick
towards obdurate ground; with your head timidly sunk
like a dastardly rat between your legs,
If you really felt sorry from the bottom of your
heart; then patriotically blaze ahead in the truly
scintillating spirit of mankind; diffusing the melody
of symbiotic existence on every step that you
holistically transgressed…..
Don’t just cry POVERTY endlessly and then feel like
the demons rotting in coffins of crucified hell;
eventually dissolving like a chunk of soggy pulp into
your own disappearing shadow,
If you really felt sorry from the bottom of your
heart; then hoist every uncouthly trembling entity
upon your splendidly benevolent shoulders;
Omnipotently enveloping the every trace of coldblooded
savagery with the ointment of passionate love…..
And don’t just write POVERTY timelessly and then feel
like the most hapless livid entity alive; trying to
mercilessly chop your own foot when infact there
wasn’t the slightest trace of axe around,
If you really felt sorry from the bottom of your
heart; then replenish its penuriously castigating
grave with an unfathomable river of love; enlightening
the life of every despicably beleaguered human with
the rays of godly mankind….
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: poverty poems, sorry poems, heart poems, food poems, happiness poems, ocean poems, river poems, truth poems
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