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Best Poems From
NIKHIL PAREKH
(27/08/1977)
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1205.
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God's most precious creation
I didn’t know who was his mother; the irrefutably
sacrosanct womb which had evolved his impeccable
contours,
I didn’t know who was his father; the revered
principles of which; circulated faster than white
lightening in his tender veins,
I didn’t know what was his name; the initials he
incoherently embossed with his immaculately sweet
little fingers,
I didn’t know what was his birthplace; the color of
the cradle that must have witnessed his overwhelmingly
surreal mischief,
I didn’t know what religion he belonged to; the
inexplicable conglomerate of scriptures that were
chanted on him; when he was just born,
I didn’t know the exact date of his cherished birth;
the exact second when even the God's in the Universe
must have inevitably stooped down to witness his
Omnipotent grace,
I didn’t know the words which he might have uttered
just a minute ago; the rhapsodically innocent voice
which must have incredulously enlightened the pallid
atmosphere,
I didn’t know what were his likes and dislikes; the
games he adored the most; the delicacies he delectably
nibbled with his freshly protruding jaws,
I didn’t know what was his shoe size; the fabulously
spongy rubber which tickled him voraciously on his
diminutive feet,
I didn’t know what were the fantasies circulating
through his vulnerable mind; the dream floating
ebulliently in his inconspicuously beautiful brain
cells,
I didn’t know who was his sister; the tiny angel who
incessantly frolicked with him in the corridors of
unsuspectingly playful fantasy,
I didn’t know why was he crying indefatigably; the
things that mattered the most to his mesmerizing
heart,
I didn’t know the identity of his naughty friends; the
robust chinned tiny stalwarts with whom he spent
countless hours every single day,
I didn’t know the marks on his flesh since he emitted
out his first cry; the spots which bestowed him with
astronomical good luck in every unfurling aspect of
life,
I didn’t know the school he went too; the clay which
he fondled with in his magical palms; to chisel the
most alluring shapes ever conceivable on this planet,
I didn’t know the hours which he went off to sleep
everyday; deluging the ambience with baby snores;
which were infact larger than the chapter called life,
I didn’t know the amount of milk he consumed; the
fraternity of taste besieging his daintily darling
tongue,
I didn’t know what was the dwelling he inhabited; the
celestial paths he transgressed; as he bounced
uninhibitedly under the flaming Sun,
I didn’t know what was his destiny; the uncanny map of
lines embedded on his mystically immortal palms,
And although I didn’t know anything about him; I still
could sacrifice my life for him and infinite more of
his kind this very instant; as he was Gods most
precious creation; would always be loved for centuries
unprecedented as a little child….
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: identity poems, destiny poems, sister poems, school poems, baby poems, angel poems, birth poems, beautiful poems, father poems, child poems, mother poems, sleep poems, dream poems, god poems, life poems, sun poems, friend poems, children poems
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1206.
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God-The Best and Greatest Poet of all…
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of the fathomlessly swirling ocean; whose majestic waves touched the highest epitome of the golden sky everytime—before eventually dissipating into ebullient froth,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of the sensuously unabashed clouds; oozing with profoundly unconquerable virility upon the lap of ravishing brown earth,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of the triumphantly blazing sands of the desert; which inevitably tantalized countless a discerning traveler on the prowl,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of the inscrutably enthralling forests; whose boundless branches and rustic leaves—whispered innumerable a tale of wisdom and priceless companionship,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of the fantastically impregnable mountains; whose unparalleled apogees crafted new and revolutionary definitions of unflinching solidarity—in good times and bad,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of altruistic blood flowing through each living vein; which timelessly marked a new era of the unassailably brilliant religion of humanity,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of the vividly shimmering rainbow in endless cosmotic space; whose each beam unsurpassably stupefied robotic existence—to ultimate heights of adventure,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of triumphantly virgin lightening; which wondrously perpetuated every emaciated pore on soil; with amazingly rejuvenating and enigmatic life,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of insuperably flamboyant sunrise; which put every tangible and intangible insinuation of misery; deprivation and depression to celestial rest,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of the impeccably twinkling stars; which magically paved a path for each staggering organism; in the heart of the ghoulishly insidious midnight,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of jubilantly enthralling dawn; which spell-bindingly broke the carcinogenic crutches of haplessly maiming darkness—with the rays of bountiful freedom,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of white ice melting to evolve the perennially sacrosanct Ganges waters; which healed even the most inexplicably traumatized of wounds with their undefeatable purity,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of the divinely milky moon; which recited countless a surreal fairy tales; and royally befriended every child brutally orphaned by the strokes of victimizing destiny,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of the first cry of the new-born infant; which miraculously brought even the most blood-shot of enemies closer and closer; into the bonds of eternally spawning friendship,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of freshly formed ponds of monsoon water; in which a countless bodies met and beautifully mate; proliferating into an infinite more of their innocuously wonderful kind,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of voluptuous green blades of grass; which sprouted with uninhibited ardor from virtually every piece of mud—to tickle each despicably frazzled and bereaved foot sole into absolute utopia,
The best poetry ever on the Universe; in the form of the mystically amber horizon; where the handsomely setting Sun forever gave hope of an entire new and Omnipotent dazzling tomorrow,
Is being written every unleashing second of time by the Omnipresent Lord Almighty; as his infinite creations on the trajectory of this immeasurable earth are the best poetry ever born; and he the BEST AND GREATEST POET OF ALL HIMSELF….
©®copyright by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
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1207.
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Good Morning Sunshine
Good Morning Sunshine; thank you for filtering
stringently through my dingily dilapidate window;
embedding optimistic rays of hope in my life,
Good Morning Cuckoo; thank you for waking up my gloomy
sleep with your poignantly austere sounds,
Good Morning Grass; thank you for rejuvenating my
dreary soles; as I trespassed on your voluptuous
carpet; with your magnificent sheath of dew drops
tickling my skin to unprecedented limits,
Good Morning delectable pet; thank you for clambering
up my bed; awakening me with a pleasant jolt; as you
flapped your slippery tongue over my rubicund cheeks,
Good Morning Shirt; thank you for imparting me with
compassionate warmth; as I swung you over my naked
chest the instant I broke my reverie,
Good Morning Wife; thank you for providing me your
mesmerizing shoulders to rest upon in times of the
treacherous night,
Good Morning Ducks; thank you for quacking so
boisterously; that I became oblivious to all the
loneliness and wretched depression that heavily
circumvented my life,
Good Morning Air; thank you for so celestially wafting
into my nostrils; seductively caressing my mass of
unruly hair; to transit me higher than the heavens,
Good Morning Lotus; thank you for spreading your
ingratiatingly pink petals into full bloom; inundate
my solitary life with astronomical happiness,
Good Morning Tea; thank you for profoundly
reinvigorating my diminishing breath; fomenting me to
walk briskly forward with untamed exhilaration,
Good Morning Alarm Clock; thank you for deafeningly
puncturing my eardrum; triggering me off from
invincible sleep; when all other conceivable things
had miserably floundered,
Good Morning Water; thank you for pacifying my thirst;
inevitably providing me those few sips of liquid to
quench scorched chords of my throat; the second I
detached from horrendous dreams,
Good Morning Soap; thank you for providing me tons of
enamoring foam; which metamorphosed my bedraggled
persona into one of stupendously distinguished
authority,
Good Morning National Flag; thank you for fluttering
so handsomely in the atmosphere; propelling the spirit
of patriotism to escalate unsurpassably in my veins;
the second I nimbly opened my eyelids at dawn,
Good Morning Soil; thank you for impregnably holding
the foundations of my dwelling; harboring my
inconspicuous demeanor while I slept like a new born
infant in the perilous night,
Good Morning Apple; thank you for providing me that
incredulously quick bite before I eloped for office;
prepared to kick on with my schedule for the
acrimoniously monotonous day,
Good Morning Mother; thank you for silently creeping
up beside me when I was in bouts of thunderously sound
sleep; gently caressing my hair; embodying my
shivering countenance with a sweater she had specially
knitted for me in the day,
Good Morning Tree; thank you for generating appeasing
draughts of wind that diffused through my window as
the Sun crept up in the sky; making me feel that I was
indispensably alive,
Good Morning Breath; thank you for blissfully
circulating through my lungs; enveloping me with the
tenacity to divinely pass the gruesomely precarious
night,
And Good Morning World; thank you for granting me the
right to harmoniously exist amongst you; walk
shoulder to shoulder with your blessed grace; in every
aspect of exuberant life….
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: depression poems, sleep poems, sunshine poems, pink poems, hair poems, happiness poems, night poems, tree poems, mother poems, life poems, water poems, hope poems, wind poems, sky poems, sun poems, thanks poems, dream poems
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1208.
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Good Shot
I chose a man slender and skinny,
draped his body in leather skin of witchcraft black,
pierced his earlobe with beads of silver,
tonsured his scalp with corrugated edge of
knife,
sprinkled his cheek with perfumed cologne,
divested his blood of every sedative,
tied him to a square wooden chair with cushioned
backrest,
drenched him completely with pure spring water,
aligned him straight so as to face me in the eye,
placing him a good 50 feet away,
gazed through the tiny glass nozzle of my bronze
pistol,
to get a proficient crystal clear aim.
i began by placing a large melon on his shaven scalp,
pierced it into flying splinters in the first shot
itself.
i then stuck a medium sized apple with sprouting leaf,
closed an eye and ruptured the fruit into infinite
segments.
a peeled orange on his head looked blissfully pretty,
was a gruesome sight to witness as poisonous lead
ripped through its body.
it was now the turn of a minuscule violet grape,
the handcuffed man looked in growing disbelief,
he was now sure of death fast approaching,
as a loud voice shook the stillness of the jungle air,
the violet grape lay punctured and lifeless on the
ground,
shouts of new found joy emanated from his throat,
he then ended our brief encounter by wildly
gesticulating,
GOOD SHOT FRIEND, VERY GOOD SHOT.
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: silver poems, spring poems, friend poems, water poems, joy poems, death poems
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