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Best Poems From
NIKHIL PAREKH
(27/08/1977)
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1225.
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Don't just say it
Those who consider themselves to be highly creative;
basking in the glory of their ingenious ideas; are
infact never creative at all,
Those who consider themselves extremely intelligent;
claiming to remember every thing ever embossed in the
history books; are infact never intelligent at all,
Those who consider themselves to be valiantly brave;
proclaiming to conquer every power on this earth; are
infact never brave at all,
Those who consider themselves to be beautiful; the
only angels traversing on this planet; are infact
never beautiful at all,
Those who consider themselves to be tall; the most
gigantic amongst any entity ever created; are infact
never tall at all,
Those who consider themselves as shrewd and
overwhelmingly tactful; are infact never tactful at
all,
Those who consider themselves to be the most versatile
musicians in this world; are infact never singers at
all,
Those who consider themselves to be the best swimmers;
bombastically announcing that they could trespass
across the colossal belt of the ocean even in the most
tumultuous of storm; are infact never swimmers at all,
Those who consider themselves to be the most
mesmerizing artists; able to sketch any form or shape
better than God; are infact never artists at all,
Those who consider themselves to be great dancers;
adept at performing every definable step under the Sun
with stupendous mysticism and charm; are infact never
dancers at all,
Those who consider themselves to be unprecedentedly
skilled surgeons; curing every wound visible by the
mere caress of their palms; are infact never surgeons
at all,
Those who consider themselves to be dynamic managers;
adroitly maneuvering all the workforce with the
inherent appeal and cadence in their voice; are infact
never managers at all,
Those who consider themselves to the most flawless of
priests; sanctimoniously conveying to the globe about
their prowess to communicate with God; are infact
never priests at all,
Those who consider themselves to be the most ferocious
of hunters; able to capsize any animal into their
custody by simply grabbing it at its throat; are
infact never hunters at all,
Those who consider themselves to be great politicians;
claiming to know every intricate nuance in the
textbooks; harnessing the optimum benefits for their
country; are infact never politicians at all,
Those who consider themselves to be the benign
philanthropists of this society; advertising in every
paper and street of how much they have helped mankind;
are infact never philanthropists at all,
Those who consider themselves to be Oligarchic kings;
royally seated on the throne and dispassionately
ruling their nation; are infact never kings at all,
Those who consider themselves as magicians of the
highest degree; able to metamorphose every thing they
touched into shimmering oysters and pearls; are infact
never magicians at all,
Those who consider themselves to be super humans;
having the ability to prognosticate what was going to
happen at nightfall right at the commencement of the
brilliant day; are infact never humans at all,
For who were you to consider yourself as anything;
when infact; he being the Creator didn’t think of
himself at all,
And if you still really perceive that you are
something; then DON’T JUST SAY IT or keep considering;
go out there and prove it; and then and only then give
yourself a chance to reclaim the glory of your
pretentiously spoken words…
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: animal poems, beautiful poems, history poems, ocean poems, remember poems, power poems, god poems, sun poems, wind poems, angel poems
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1226.
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Don't make me
Don’t make me taller than the clouds; protruding my
head above realms of infinite infinity,
That I became oblivious to my fellow compatriots on
earth; had to bend beyond limits of comprehension; to
walk abreast their benevolent countenances…
Don’t make me fairer than white ice; with an
unfathomably glorious aura radiating profusely from my
flesh,
That I miserably dwindled to recognize those with the
slightest tinge of black around me; shrugged my nose
in disdain towards the realistic forms of humanity…
Don’t make me more ferocious than the fires swirling
towards the cosmos; charring everything in tangible
atmosphere to inconspicuous bits of threadbare ash,
That I ruthlessly swept past my comrades in
inexplicable pain; uncouthly forgot to commiserate
with even those; who were solely instrumental for my
existence…
Don’t make me more mystical than the chapter of
existence; entrenched by waves of stupendously
alluring enigma,
That I didn’t understand the hearts of innocent
children; overruling them with my torrential downpour
of intriguing intricacies…
Don’t make me more invincible than the divine;
instilling in me the unprecedented power of conquering
every iota of this fathomless planet,
That I started to condemn those frolicking in the lap
of their mothers; the very celestial shrine of
sacrosanct essence; wherein I had spent my entire
childhood…
Don’t make me more prudent than the Sun; possessing
even the most infinitesimal bit of knowledge loitering
on this planet,
That I basked in the overwhelming glory of my memory;
feeling it worthless to disseminate the same to my
fellow mates in profound despair…
Don’t make me more cool than gargantuan avalanches of
snow; inundating my soul with a mountain of gratifying
peace,
That I was simply unable to comprehend the whirlwind
of insurmountable agony besieging my loved ones;
thoroughly nonplussed by the tragic disasters which
unleashed; right before my eyes…
Don’t make me more fragrant than the most scarlet of
roses; deluging my persona with magnanimous scent and
voluptuously exotic spray,
That I diabolically kicked every fruit and flower that
confronted me in my way; trampled mother nature under
my bohemian feet; instead of blending in its
mesmerizing lap for centuries immemorial…
Don’t make me more wealthy than the entire treasury of
this Universe; triggering my pockets to explode with
an unbelievable flurry of gold and shimmering silver,
That I relinquished even the tiniest trace of effort
from within my veins; slept like a demon whilst my
brothers and sisters; bathed in an unrelenting tornado
of pain….
And don’t make me more satisfied than the angels O!
lord; overwhelming my lap with all the riches of this
planet; even before I found my breath to utter them
coherently,
That I didn’t feel the slightest need to discover the
beautiful gift of love in life; spent countless
lifetimes like a dreadful corpse; even after
possessing infinite arms; legs and hearts….
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: childhood poems, pain poems, despair poems, flower poems, memory poems, silver poems, snow poems, nature poems, beautiful poems, power poems, children poems, peace poems, mother poems, sun poems, child poems, angel poems, rose poems, sleep poems
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1227.
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Don't talk to two lovers
Don’t talk to the boundlessly barren bits of sky; talk
to its garlands of vivaciously mystical clouds;
instead,
Don’t talk to the fathomlessly deep ocean; talk to its
majestically swirling waves; instead,
Don’t talk to the lackadaisically stretched desert;
talk to its royally blossoming festoon of cactus;
instead,
Don’t talk to the monotonously sprawled blankets of
mirror; talk to its enigmatically alluring reflection;
instead,
Don’t talk to the gigantically curved stoical tree;
talk to its conglomerate of stupendously enchanting
leaves; instead,
Don’t talk to the sonorously snobbish artist; talk to
his myriad of incredulously absorbing paintings;
instead,
Don’t talk to the insurmountably timid twin horned
cow; talk to its pail of impeccably shimmering milk;
instead,
Don’t talk to the unfathomably tired and grizzly
haired old man; talk to his insatiable nostalgia and
overwhelming yearning for the past; instead,
Don’t talk to the hideously sinister spider; talk to
its mesmerizing strands of silken web which swayed
exuberantly with the breeze; instead,
Don’t talk to the stringently suspended coat of thick
skin; talk to its relentless infernos of unsurpassable
desire; instead,
Don’t talk to the shriveled petals of the
indiscriminately trampled lotus; talk to their
irrefutably exotic scent that still drifted for times
immemorial in the atmosphere; instead,
Don’t talk to the country sandwiched as a rigidly
aligned dot on the map; talk to its people who
transpired its freedom; instead,
Don’t talk to the gruesomely morbid and perilous
night; talk to its resplendent coat of seductively
tantalizing stars; instead,
Don’t talk to the rustically indigenous and shaggily
attired soldier; talk to his tales of immortal
triumph; instead,
Don’t talk to the indefatigably treacherous mountain
slopes; talk to its grandiloquently sculptured summit;
glistening under the golden Sun; instead,
Don’t talk to the battalion of inexorably bored and
lackluster twigs, talk to their flamboyantly crackling
flames of rhapsodic fire; instead,
Don’t talk to the monstrously diabolical chameleon;
talk to its unbelievable barrage of vividly changing
colors instead,
Don’t talk to the dictatorial definitions of pragmatic
life; talk to its labyrinth of exhilarating anecdotes;
instead,
And don’t talk to two lovers absconding unrelentingly
from the barricades of this miserably conventional
society; talk to their poignantly staring eyes; talk
to their ardently sensuous breath; talk to their
passionately throbbing hearts; which had all bonded
for infinite births as one; instead….
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: soldier poems, mirror poems, freedom poems, ocean poems, tree poems, fire poems, people poems, sky poems, sun poems, change poems, star poems
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1228.
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Don't worry
Don’t worry if he had chosen you to be blind;
depriving you of indispensable blankets of blissful
sight,
For at the same time he had bestowed you upon with an
extraordinary prowess of hearing; making you discern
even the most sensitive sounds in the atmosphere;
which your sighted counterparts had not the slightest
of ability to ever conceive….
Don’t worry if he had chosen you to be deaf; divesting
you of the most miraculous tenacity to intricately
hear,
For at the same time he had bestowed you upon with an
astronomical virtue of hawk sight; engendering you to
witness even the most distortedly bleary images
floating in voluptuous space; which your mates with
perfect ears; had not the slightest of ability to ever
perceive…
Don’t worry if he had chosen you to be dumb;
irrevocably refraining you to utter even the most
inconspicuously infinitesimal sound,
For at the same time he had bestowed you upon with an
unfathomably delightful virtue of expression;
propelling you to magnificently divulge the inner most
feelings of your heart; which your supremely tongued
compatriots; had not the slightest of ability to ever
imagine….
Don’t worry if he had chosen you to be maim; acridly
crippled to the ground; without even the most
minuscule of support to march on your own feet,
For at the same time he had bestowed you upon with the
winds of profusely marvelous artistry; which your
celestially fingered and fleet footed fellow beings;
had not the slightest of ability to ever dream about….
Don’t worry if he had chosen you to be
incomprehensibly weak; triggering you to collapse
towards the soil every time you tried to get up;
afflicted with inexplicable disease all over the blood
in your impoverished body,
For at the same time he had bestowed you upon with
ingratiating philosophy and an astoundingly
overwhelming tenacity to face the most mightiest of
enemies; which your robustly complexioned mates; had
not the slightest of ability to ever fantasize….
Don’t worry if he had chosen you to be horrendously
black; coating your entire diminutive countenance with
a dungeon of hideous darkness,
For at the same time he had bestowed you upon with an
incredulously augmenting wave of uninhibited
compassion; which your frigidly snow white mates; had
not the slightest of ability to ever posses….
Don’t worry if he had chosen you to be pathetically
tiny; with every entity that traversed by your side;
looming like an untamed giant over your ludicrously
stooping shoulders,
For at the same time he had bestowed you upon with a
lion hearted chest to face the most treacherous of
catastrophe that descended from the cosmos; which your
belligerently towering and pistol clad friends; had
not the slightest of ability to stand upto….
Don’t worry if he had chosen you to be illiterate;
swooning ridiculously towards obdurate soil; the
instant you heard an obsoletely alien accent lingering
around,
For at the same time he had bestowed you upon with the
intransigent rudiments of unity; peace and irrefutable
truth; which your bombastically stylish and
manipulatively corporate city counterparts; had not
the slightest of ability to ever inculcate….
And Don’t worry if he had chosen you to be poor;
penuriously surviving each day of your unsurpassably
marathon life; sporadically blending with sleazy
drawers of threadbare dust,
For at the same time he had bestowed you upon with the
immortal island of love as you passionately throbbed
till beyond the island of tantalizing eternity; which
your stinkingly rich and opulently glamorous
companions; had not the slightest of ability to ever
belong to…
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: time poems, city poems, snow poems, truth poems, peace poems, dream poems, friend poems, wind poems
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