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Best Poems From
NIKHIL PAREKH
(27/08/1977)
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1189.
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Full Stop
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every ounce of diabolically demented lies; the profanely beleaguered manipulation of the tongue which was the greatest of living parasite,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every shade of pathetically impoverished racial indiscrimination; the sanctimonious boundaries of caste; creed; color and race; which irrevocably crippled resplendent earth; for an infinite more of its destined lives,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every act of heinously committed crime; those countless innocent screams which wafted till eternity and without the tiniest of respite,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every gutter of commercialism from oozing its cadaverous streams; the robotically unemotional arms of sacrilegious monotony; forever crucifying the idol of divine human sensitivity,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every insinuation of tawdrily devastating politics; the tireless mockery of priceless living beings being made; by a handful of egocentrically bald world leaders,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every salaciously ribald desert of adulteration; foolhardily wanton human contraptions; unforgivably plundering into the unconquerable virginity of mother nature,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every war that happens in the name of spurious religion; those boundless children who’re mercilessly orphaned; as an aftermath of abhorrently penalizing meaninglessness,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every deliriously jinxed imagination of the sinfully satanic brain; the horrendous ramifications of inconsolably brutal bloodshed that it irretrievably led to,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every graveyard of self inflicted decay; the morass of disdainfully unbearable obsolescence; which inexorably massacres even the most infinitesimal desire to exist,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every ingredient of baselessly non-existent pride; the inevitably burying downfall that immediately followed it; without the slightest of innuendo,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every shade of fecklessly livid gloom; the vindictive daggerheads of inexplicable depression; that unsparingly ripped apart even the most sacrosanct lining of the soul,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every footstep of ludicrous insecurity; the germs of ignominiously baseless fear starting to unceasingly gobble you; even before you could alight a single foot,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every impression of dogmatic impotence; the morbidly unthinkable corpses of stagnation that arose; when you chauvinistically and selfishly conserved your seeds in your own body,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every bit of delinquent lacklusterness on this fathomless planet; the innumerable innocuous deaths that took place every unfurling instant; in the prisons of besmirched unemployment,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every robust tree being heartlessly felled; the most preposterously unbearable metamorphosing of every meadow of celestial green; into a crematorium of inconspicuously malicious ash,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every breath of ominously squelching betrayal that surreptitiously eloped from the nostril; a indefatigably violent and mournfully pugnacious civilization that culminated therein,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every anecdote of uncouthly pulverizing the unfortunately poor; erecting castles of worthless gold on the foundations of unimpeachably truthful humanitarian blood,
Put a perpetual FULL STOP; to every submissive defeat infront of the unjustly marauding devil; those uncountable moments of castrated imprisonment whilst surrendering; whereas the head should only bow down on the feet of the Omnipotent Creator,
And then; immediately after every FULL STOP that you put; start each new sentence of your symbiotically redolent and benign life; afresh and majestically replenished with the blessings of the Omnipresent Creator and the magical words of “Immortal Love”
©®copyright-2005, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: depression poems, pride poems, war poems, nature poems, children poems, tree poems, mother poems, green poems, fear poems, child poems
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1190.
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Fully Engrossed
While both my eyes were busy seeking possibilities to
survive in this mercenary world; discerning the good
and bad scattered overwhelmingly around,
Infinite eyes of his were fully engrossed in
protecting me even from the tiniest of shadow of evil;
seeing to it that I existed in perpetual happiness.
While both my hands were busy building a house for me
and my beloved to live; fetching bricks; and
vigorously molding a mountain of cement and stone,
Infinite hands of his were fully engrossed protecting
our dwelling from unrelenting storm and rain; blessing
us with the prowess of evolving several more like us
in mankind.
While both my feet were busy conquering territories;
running unfathomable distances to explore the entire
globe and discover,
Infinite feet of his were fully engrossed in wading
off all the impediments that I might perniciously
confront in my expedition; impregnating loads of
strength and conviction in every step I take.
While both my ears were busy in deciphering the
enigmatic tunes of this commercial continent; trying
to reach out to the sounds of victory and
unprecedented prosperity,
Infinite ears of his were fully engrossed in
sequestering me from morbid voices of the corpse;
ensuring that I heard nothing else but incessant
rhymes from the heaven, while marching at lightening
speeds towards my goal.
While both my fingers were busy in composing poetry;
metamorphosing every dream of mine into embossed
reality; capturing the beauty of the entire cosmos in
each of my minuscule alphabets,
Infinite fingers of his were fully engrossed in
stirring the chords of my imagination; profoundly
triggering my mind to envisage what no one else could
have ever thought about or conceived on this earth.
While both my shoulders were busy in bearing the
weight of my mother; carrying her inexorably over the
treacherous sea's as she had relinquished all power to
walk,
Infinite shoulders of his were fully engrossed urging
me to unceasingly surge forward; making me emerge
successful in my mission of saving both of our lives;
more importantly take my mother to a place where she
could blissfully meditate.
While both my lips were busy announcing to the world
my right to live; my unstinted belief in passionate
love and harmonious peace,
Infinite lips of his were fully engrossed in silencing
my critics; pacifying my unruly adversaries with the
omnipotent power of his speech.
While both my nostrils were busy inhaling
indispensable amounts of air; facilitating me to dance
merrily and with uninhibited abandon; embracing all
human kind,
Infinite nostrils of his were fully engrossed in
evolving all the moisture I required to live; flooding
each aspect of my life with the scent of invincible
happiness.
And while both my heart and soul were busy in pursuing
their unending reservoir of dreams; throbbed fervently
for the person they adored and loved,
Infinite hearts of his were fully engrossed in
imparting me with vivacious beats; instilling the very
element of existence that propelled me to be the way I
am; fomenting me to imagine to stupendous limits; and
stand unflinching to encounter any individual on this
planet with all the Herculean power; I possessed
today…
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: power poems, happiness poems, mother poems, poetry poems, running poems, evil poems, dance poems, strength poems, house poems, peace poems, rain poems, world poems, dream poems, beauty poems, heaven poems, sea poems
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1191.
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Garlands
Snakes slithered harmlessly in lush green terrains of
lawns,
swishing their tongues viciously in the autumn breeze,
i stealthily encroached them with nimble feet,
hoisted them in the air, adroitly snapping their venom
fangs,
wound them round my neck to relish the tender warmth
of reptile garland.
the body of chameleon changed color with surrounding
foliage,
its serrations stood erect when tickled by red brick,
as it glared devilishly at innocuous bunch of radiating
insects.
i punctured its silhouette with needle arrow,
captured more of its species with meticulous
proficiency,
adorned my slender neck with a garlands of dead
chameleon.
i evacuated rich oysters from the carribean sea,
pilfered the shells to obtain a plethora of sparkling
pearls,
weaved them with ultra thin floss of honey golden,
sprinkling the beads with pungent amounts of rose
perfume,
i enveloped my persona with garlands of exquisite
glistening pearl stones.
and finally when i engulfed my body in a festoon of
her satiny hair,
a celestial fragrance emanating from the natural
sheath of black,
my heart underwent uncontrollable convulsions,
finally yielding my entity in complete submission to
this inexplicable garland
of love.
'
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: autumn poems, rose poems, hair poems, green poems, red poems, sea poems, snake poems, change poems, wind poems
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1192.
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Ghastly war could only win
Ghastly war could only win; countless screams of all those haplessly orphaned children; who hopelessly stared into the desolately maiming open spaces of hell; with the blood soaked bodies of their parents upon their innocuous shoulders,
Treacherous war could only win; countless curses of all those brutally lambasted mothers; who indiscriminately lost their exuberant young sons; to the arrow of carnivorously unforgivable malice,
Sadistic war could only win; countless nightmares of all those inexplicably shivering on the heartlessly obdurate ground; barbarously naked and without the tiniest leaf of humanity to engulf their wailing bones,
Inconsolable war could only win; countless slaps of all those relentlessly searching for their inseparably lost ones; whose even the most infinitesimal whisker wasn’t to be found; under the most tenaciously blazing of sunlight,
Cold-blooded war could only win; countless abuses of all those rendered devastatingly homeless; who now had no other option than to perennially reside upon graveyards of horrendously charred ash,
Parasitic war could only win; countless tears of all those still uncontrollably oozing priceless blood; even infinite hours after the Sun had celestially set,
Wanton war could only win; countless agonies of all those who were left to salaciously crawl on a single hand and foot for the remainder of their lives; indefinably mutilated by the cannibalistic swords of dastardly abhorrence,
Hedonistic war could only win; countless impotencies of all those who were left without their sacrosanct beloved’s; and in whom the desire to further procreate had inevitably died like the last brick of the deadened coffin,
Unsparing war could only win; countless infidelities of all those who’d completely lost faith in every fraternity of living kind; gorily witnessing their loved ones being acrimoniously pulverized like insouciantly deplorable matchsticks,
Satanic war could only win; countless vindications of all those inimitably new born infants; who’d unfortunately seen their mother being ruthlessly slained; felt her blood-soaked skull instead of amiably suckling her breast,
Prejudiced war could only win; countless frustrations of all those whose most gloriously unfettered and victorious future; had now been forever burnt into flames of inanely decrepit meaninglessness,
Licentious war could only win; countless dumbness of all those perpetually stunned by the impact of the intransigent heartlessness; all those whose voice forever refrained to waft out of their throats; as they saw their own brothers and children being buried alive; right infront of their eyes,
Disastrous war could only win; countless diseases of all those whose every iota of flesh had been tawdrily ripped apart; to remorsefully reveal their profusely pus laden bones,
Imbecile war could only win; countless insecurities of all those who’d lost every ounce of their physical and emotional possession in vibrant life; for whom every trembling footstep forward; seemed to be like the most massacring valley of death,
Diabolical war could only win; countless blood-drops of all those who lay miserably unattended and inconsolably wounded; for whom there seemed nothing else but a mortuary of despondently never-ending darkness; infront of even the most ethereal of their senses,
Heinous war could only win; countless sarcasms of all those who were neither a part of it; or all those who never lost any of their loved ones to its tyrannical swirl; but whose tongues still developed a flagrant flavor simply listening to all delirious atrocities going around,
Deteriorating war could only win; countless idiosyncrasies of all those who were mentally tortured by its whiplashes of apathetic ferociousness; for whom every instant of life had now metamorphosed into the gutters of worthless insanity,
Unceremonious war could only win; countless living-deaths of all those still existing just for the sake of inhaling and exhaling out air; but for whom the entire Universe was nothing but an ominous skeleton of unrelentingly stabbing blackness,
And cowardly war could only win; countless betrayals of all those who once upon a time immortally loved; but now whose every beat had wholesomely metamorphosed into slandering sinfulness; tirelessly witnessing blood and malice as the only signatures of blessed life…
©®copyright-2005, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: war poems, lost poems, children poems, future poems, faith poems, mother poems, death poems, sun poems, child poems, prejudice poems, son poems
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