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Best Poems From
NIKHIL PAREKH
(27/08/1977)
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13.
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Eternal Creation
The Parent’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to the child; but to irrefutably ensure that the infant was nourished with their breath and blood till the time it could unflinchingly fend for its symbiotic survival; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created them for,
The Sun’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to light; but to irrefutably ensure that the rays optimistically enlightened even the most infinitesimally lugubrious cranny of remorsefully cloistered earth; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Rose’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to fragrance; but to irrefutably ensure that the majestic resplendence ebulliently blossomed into the lives of countless haplessly beleaguered and bereaved; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Peak’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to victory; but to irrefutably ensure that the royal triumph peerlessly massacred even the most ethereal iota of devilishness form this Universe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
Nature’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to newness; but to irrefutably ensure that the evolution metamorphosed every bit of egregiously stagnating ghoulishness into a sky of rhapsodic freshness; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Cloud’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to rain; but to irrefutably ensure that the water stupendously ignited vivaciously iridescent life in every ingredient of hopelessly dying soil; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Conscience’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to truth; but to irrefutably ensure that the righteousness insuperably conquered every trace of diabolical lies on earth and the atmosphere; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Ocean’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to salt; but to irrefutably ensure that the tanginess wonderfully illuminated every treacherously spiceles and deliriously lackadaisical moment of life; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Poet’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to fantasy; but to irrefutably ensure that the dream spellbindingly impregnates the winds of Omnipotent romance into monotonously monstrous robots; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created him for,
The Lip’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to smiles; but to irrefutably ensure that the happiness altruistically perpetually perpetuates into every dwelling incarcerated in chains of murderous gloom; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Rainbow’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to vividness; but to irrefutably ensure that the color timelessly enshrouded every gruesomely befriended orphan; miserably deteriorating on the globe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Shadow’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to tranquility; but to irrefutably ensure that the peacefulness granted celestial reprieve to every bizarrely estranged soul squandering on this Universe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The philanthropist’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to unity; but to irrefutably ensure that the oneness miraculously coalesced every spuriously staggering and cold-bloodedly fighting caste; creed and tribe into the unassailable religion of humanity; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created him for,
The wind’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to freedom; but to irrefutably ensure that the liberation unequivocally freed every element of torturously enslaved earth till times immemorial; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
The night’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to sensuality; but to irrefutably ensure that the passion brilliantly transformed every speck of infertility into the chapters of everlastingly Omniscient procreation; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
The eyelash’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to flirtation; but to irrefutably ensure that the mischief serenely catapulted every fretfully frenetic organism into realms of impeccable childhood; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
The soldiers job just doesn’t end at giving birth to martyrdom; but to irrefutably ensure that the valor to timelessly serve the mothersoil; throbbed fearlessly in every chest; even centuries after his veritable death; was what the Almighty Creator had created him for,
The breath’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to life; but to irrefutably ensure that the exultation inexhaustibly transcended over; even the most inane anecdote of baseless corruption and demeaning death; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
And the heart’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to Love; but to irrefutably ensure that the compassionate togetherness tirelessly bonded the entire planet into a paradise of Omnipresently unshakable strength; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for…
©copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: birth poems, romance poems, rainbow poems, childhood poems, freedom poems, death poems, happiness poems, passion poems, ocean poems, strength poems, nature poems, rose poems, truth poems, rain poems, child poems, dream poems, water poems, wind poems, sky poems, sun poems
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14.
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In order to sign the bond of love
In order to sign the bombastic chequebook; I used an
ink resembling pure sapphire pearls,
In order to sign the hotel guestbook; I used an ink
suckled from freshly tantalizing Mountain mud,
In order to sign the dreaded terrorist's death
sentence; I used an ink extracted from venomous
reptile skins,
In order to sign the blissful peace treaty between
neighboring continents; I used an ink extracted from
poignantly delectable raspberry,
In order to sign my best friends palm; I used an ink
withdrawn from astoundingly tangy lemon,
In order to sign on the innocuous student's annual
examination paper; I used an ink extracted from the
austerely scarlet rose,
In order to sign in the official company register; I
used an ink of nimble light blue,
In order to sign on the ragged village wall; I used an
ink suckled from indigenous cowdung,
In order to sign on the baby's cheeks; I used an ink
of wholesomely impeccable and sacrosanct cow milk,
In order to sign on the dead man's will; I used an ink
extracted from the perpetually silent and ghoulish
owl,
In order to sign on the ingeniously written
scientist's thesis; I used an ink of contemporary
silver and slippery mercury,
In order to sign on the celestially embossed marriage
invitation; I used an ink extricated from the
fabulously gorgeous pink lotus,
In order to sign on my salary increment application; I
used an ink of intractably adhering black paint,
In order to sign on the overwhelmingly confidential
presidential document; I used an ink of glittering
emerald green; evacuated from the fossils loitering in
tandem on the century old ocean bed,
In order to sign the artist's majestic painting; I
used an ink extracted from royally curled oligarchic
peacock quills,
In order to sign the horrendously corrupt politician's
ordeal; I used an ink of exorbitantly cheap and
stinking gutter water,
In order to sign the aristocratically woven
recommendation letter; I used an ink imprisoned in the
heart of the marvelously radiating oyster,
In order to sign the gardeners pending bills; I used
an ink extracted from ravishingly fresh green grass,
In order to sign the feeble patient's crisp hospital
vouchers; I used an ink of the most stringent
antiseptic,
In order to sign the film star's swanky autobiography;
I used an ink resembling glamorous diamonds sparkling
tenaciously in the garish showroom,
In order to sign the birth certificate of the
immaculate tied orphan for securing admission in
playtime nursery; I used an ink extracted from the
vividly vivacious cluster of red cherry,
In order to sign the magicians insurmountably
enigmatic visiting card; I used an ink extracted from
mystical blueberry herb,
And in order to sign the bond of love; the pact of
immortal romance between me and my beloved; I used an
ink of my very own and profusely passionate crimson
blood…
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: marriage poems, romance poems, pink poems, green poems, baby poems, birth poems, ocean poems, silver poems, star poems, rose poems, peace poems, red poems, water poems, death poems, light poems, friend poems
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15.
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Will you still accept me as your husband? ? ?
Does only going to the corporate office from an exact 9 in the morning to 9 in the bewitching night; prove that a man is indeed an infallibly true husband to his jubilantly vivacious wife?
Does only possessing a perfectly sculptured masculine and virile body; prove that a man is indeed an unconquerably blessed husband to his euphorically tantalizing wife?
Does only earning infinite bundles of quintessential currency note every month; prove that a man is indeed an inimitably worthy husband to his pristinely effulgent wife?
Does only attending the world’s premium cocktail parties and conferences; prove that a man is indeed a pricelessly undefeatable husband to his wondrously enthralling wife?
Does only draping each conceivable pore of the skin with the most opulent fabric; pearls; and ties available in the world; prove that a man is indeed a stupendously enamoring husband to his beautifully effervescent wife?
Does only attracting gargantuan hordes of crowds towards with the mere essence of a celebrity personality; prove that a man is indeed a deservedly smart husband to his insuperably redolent wife?
Does only unceasingly perpetuating the atmosphere with the scent of majestic cigar smoke and kingly wine; prove that a man is indeed a effulgently princely husband to his poignantly intricate wife?
Does only having an inimitably infallible signature proudly embossed on every existing check; prove that a man is indeed a regally eclectic husband to his triumphantly gyrating wife?
Does only conversing at an unbelievably adroit nineteen to the dozen in the most enviably impregnable British accent; prove that a man is indeed an amazingly fulfilling husband to his unimpeachably contemporary wife?
Does only exuding into a billion globules of perseveringly golden sweat every day; prove that a man is indeed an earnestly hard working husband to his piquantly boisterous wife?
Does only possessing supernaturally miraculous qualities of being able to fly bare-chested in freezing air; prove that a man is indeed a truly devoted husband to his eternally replenishing wife?
Does only possessing an unparalleled sense of humor wherein even the most deliriously suicidal metamorphosed into smiling saints; prove that a man is indeed a proficiently versatile husband to his robustly exhilarating wife?
Does only having a magically unwavering baritone that spell bound millions in minute seconds; prove that a man is indeed a bountifully ardent husband to his unfathomably sensuous wife?
Does only writing countless lines of “Nobel Prize Winning” literature on Immortal Love; prove that a man is indeed an uniquely pioneering husband to his unconventionally Samaritan wife?
Does only endlessly winning over every territory of the boundless earth; prove that a man is indeed a fervently unassailable husband to his magnetically enthralling wife?
Does only being inundated with infinite hair and glistening muscle on the chest; prove that a man is indeed an astonishingly audacious husband to his gregariously pretty wife?
Does only being an unequivocally svelte emperor on the world stage of unprecedented power; prove that a man is indeed a wondrously iridescent husband to his gorgeously supple wife?
Does only indefatigably gallivanting in the most scintillating of “Rolls Royce” and “Mercedes”; prove that a man is indeed an unmatched dream husband to his unfathomably vanity wife?
Does only astoundingly sketching the persona of any organism on the unceasing Universe merely by fantasizing about the same; prove that a man is indeed a jubilantly embracing husband to his charmingly benign wife?
And if didn’t posses even a single quality amongst the several spell bindingly enriching ones as listed above; although each beat of my immortally throbbing heart loves you like noone else could on this tirelessly proliferating planet; will you still accept me as your husband; O! darling wife? ? ?
©®copyright by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
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16.
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You can kiss me; only If
You can kiss me on my voluptuously rubicund cheeks
all right; but only if your kiss had the power to
wonderfully transcend over every other conceivable
kiss drifting ominously towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my seductively tantalizing nape all
right; but only if your kiss had the tenacity to
miraculously overpower every other conceivable kiss
drifting atrociously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my rhapsodically vivacious hair all
right; but only if your kiss had the temerity to
supremely outshadow every other conceivable kiss
drifting egregiously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my enthrallingly ebullient lips all
right; but only if your kiss had the charisma to
irrefutably nullify every other conceivable kiss
drifting vindictively towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my bountifully emollient palms all
right; but only if your kiss had the superiority to
timelessly conquer every other conceivable kiss
drifting baselessly towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my surreally royal forehead all
right; but only if your kiss had the magic to
unbelievably decimate every other conceivable kiss
drifting truculently towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my daintily embellished feet all
right; but only if your kiss had the magnetism to
insuperably supercede every other conceivable kiss
drifting salaciously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my robustly titillating belly all
right; but only if your kiss had the caress to
astronomically triumph over every other conceivable
kiss drifting parasitically towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my uncontrollably trembling skin
all right; but only if your kiss had the color to
wholesomely camouflage every other conceivable kiss
drifting beguilingly towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my enigmatically arcane palms all
right; but only if your kiss had the fortitude to
entirely sideline every other conceivable kiss
drifting hedonistically towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my mellifluously dangling earlobes
all right; but only if your kiss had the ardor to
poignantly overrule every other conceivable kiss
drifting flagrantly towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my unfathomably scented fingers all
right; but only if your kiss had the righteousness to
unsurpassably defeat every other conceivable kiss
drifting hideously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my mischievously cavorting shadow
all right; but only if your kiss had the intensity to
unnervingly destroy every other conceivable kiss
drifting raunchily towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my aristocratically iridescent
shoulders all right; but only if your kiss had the
compassion to circumscribe every other conceivable
kiss drifting bizarrely towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my sensuously inebriating eyes all
right; but only if your kiss had the brilliance to
unprecedentedly blaze over every other conceivable
kiss drifting acrimoniously towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my artistically sculptured chin all
right; but only if your kiss had the guts to
indomitably rule over every other conceivable kiss
drifting heinously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my inimitably graceful spine all
right; but only if your kiss had the heavenliness to
eternally outclass every other conceivable kiss
drifting malevolently towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
And you can kiss me on my immortally throbbing heart
all right; but only if your kiss had the kinsmanship
to forever subjugate and subdue every other
conceivable kiss drifting venomously towards my
direction; for times beyond an infinite more
lifetimes…
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: kiss poems, magic poems, power poems, hair poems
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