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Best Poems From
NIKHIL PAREKH
(27/08/1977)
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1877.
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To pray to God was of paramount importance
To write good things was of paramount importance; what
you wrote the literature with; what hand you used; was
utterly inconsequential,
To admire magnificent beauty was of paramount
importance; which eye you admired it with; the
aperture you kept while profoundly appreciating it;
was utterly inconsequential,
To smell the ravishing rose was of paramount
importance; how you sniffed it; which nostril did you
use; was utterly inconsequential,
To swim in the voluptuous ocean was of paramount
importance; which hand and foot you used to splash
about in the poignantly tangy waves; was utterly
inconsequential,
To eat appetizing morsels of food was of paramount
importance; what side of the mouth did you use to
finely pulverize the tantalizing chunks; was utterly
inconsequential,
To trample the venomously heinous scorpion was of
paramount importance; whether you used your right foot
or left foot to indiscriminately squelch the irate
monster; was utterly inconsequential,
To sleep blissfully in the star studded night was of
paramount importance; whether you slept directly
beneath the opalescent moon or whether you slept in
your enviously cozy dwelling; was utterly
inconsequential,
To reach the pinnacle of the impregnable mountain was
of paramount importance; whether you clambered up with
boots or conquered it barefoot; was utterly
inconsequential,
To make the mercilessly orphaned child laugh was of
paramount importance; whether you made him smile by
indigenously poking out your tongue or whether you
achieved the same by singing ingratiating rhymes; was
utterly inconsequential,
To expurgate the disdainfully inflated bowels in the
morning was of paramount importance; whether you did
that hiding behind the conglomerate of foliated trees
or whether you evacuated the dirt sitting on the plush
lavatory seat; was utterly inconsequential,
To remember the person you adored was of paramount
importance; whether you did that writing eloquently
long letters or whether you managed to accomplish the
same by chanting her name incessantly in your mind;
was utterly inconsequential,
To wash your body scrupulously everyday was of
paramount importance; whether you did that standing
under the contemporary Jacuzzi of the five star hotel;
or whether you scrubbed your skin under the rustic
waterfall cascading down the mountain; was utterly
inconsequential,
To construct a fortified place to live was of
paramount importance; whether you erected the dwelling
dressed in immaculate shirt and stringently pressed
tie; or whether you slapped granules of raw cement on
the wall bare chested; was utterly inconsequential,
To assassinate the hideous man eater shark was of
paramount importance; whether you did that by
adulterating its mammoth slices of meat; or whether
you permeated its satanically thick skin with a
battalion of grey bullets; was utterly
inconsequential,
To emulate philanthropic ideals of your ancestors was
of paramount importance; whether you imbibed them by
reading through exorbitantly costly textbooks; or
whether you got apprised of the same through
experiences in real life; was utterly inconsequential,
To respect your mother was of paramount importance;
whether you incessantly knelt down on her feet; or
whether you hardly saw her when you were overseas and
cherished her in your every prayer; was utterly
inconsequential,
To convey the most sagaciously prudent message to the
world was of paramount importance; whether you
divulged the same screaming hysterically at the top of
your voice; or whether you were able to disseminate
the same in mollified whispers; was utterly
inconsequential,
To drink salubrious water boundless times in a day was
of paramount importance; whether you sipped it
delectably from the amicable champagne glass; or
whether you gulped it ferociously from the lap of the
turbulently gushing country river; was utterly
inconsequential,
And to pray to God was of paramount importance;
whether you folded hands and seeked solace; or whether
you clasped your palms openly towards the heavens for
forgiveness; or whether you maneuvered them
dexterously across your chest in the form of a
sacrosanct cross; was utterly inconsequential…
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: star poems, respect poems, god poems, food poems, ocean poems, river poems, remember poems, rose poems, smile poems, moon poems, child poems, beauty poems, mother poems, sleep poems, water poems, swimming poems, tree poems, children poems
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1878.
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To the inimitably godly beats
My smile could perhaps have stirred you a trifle;
drifting you an inconspicuous bit from your woefully
tyrannical monotony,
But to her blissfully tinkling laughter; ebulliently
danced the entire planet; with unsurpassable fervor;
and timelessly outside….
My eyes could perhaps have punctuated you a trifle;
casting an impression of transiently augmenting
empathy; upon your luridly morass countenance,
But to her innocuously flirtatious winks; wonderfully
cavorted the entire planet; with indefatigable
mysticism; and tantalizingly outside…
My whispers could perhaps have enthralled you a
trifle; ephemerally diverting your preposterously
malicious mind towards an ocean of untamed enigma,
But to her mellifluously immaculate tunes; magically
swayed the entire planet; with unrelenting euphoria;
and vivaciously outside….
My muscles could perhaps have impressed you a trifle;
capturing the crux of your imagination with the wand
of miraculous machismo,
But to her divinely uninhibited selflessness;
bountifully stooped the entire planet; with
unparalleled obeisance; and celestially outside….
My eyebrows could perhaps have perpetuated you a
trifle; engendering you to momentarily envisage the
rhapsodically unknown; with their mischievously
resplendent twitching,
But to her fathomlessly poignant expressions;
ingratiatingly resonated the entire planet; with
perennial brotherhood; and ecstatically outside….
My shadow could perhaps have stupefied you a trifle;
serenely placating your barbarously lambasted nerves;
with the tonic of fugitive camaraderie,
But to her Omnipotently sacrosanct aura; symbiotically
marched the entire planet; with the spirit of
humanitarian bonding; and vibrantly outside…
My palms could perhaps have supported you a trifle;
amiably sequestering your trembling flesh from the
traitors; for just an infidel instant,
But to her invincibly everlasting uninhibitedness;
perpetually sang the entire planet; with
synergistically unblemished caring; and gloriously
outside….
My fantasies could perhaps have enlightened you a
trifle; fantastically enriching the fabric of your
ignominiously dithering existence; for a few hours
every day,
But to her unassailably enamoring genius; relentlessly
proliferated the entire planet; with exuberantly
charismatic newness; and Omnipresently outside….
My breath could perhaps have titillated you a trifle;
miraculously reinvigorating your lividly deteriorating
senses with the elixir of survival; for just an
evanescent moment,
But to her insuperable cries of sparkling
righteousness; effulgently radiated the entire planet;
with undaunted resilience; and resplendently outside….
And my heart could perhaps have loved you a trifle;
magnificently alleviating you of your inexplicably
cancerous pain; for just an ethereal second every
night,
But to the inimitably Godly beats of her newly born
freshness; triumphantly throbbed the entire planet;
with indomitably insatiable compassion; and immortally
outside…
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: laughter poems, ocean poems, smile poems, pain poems, dance poems
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1879.
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To the service of mankind
Just moving your lips up and down doesn’t make any
sense; the real art lies in speaking articulately;
profoundly impressing upon your point on your hostile
adversary,
Just shaking your fingers aimlessly in the air doesn’t
make any sense; the real art lies in embossing spell
binding pieces of literature; captivating the entire
nation with the unprecedented depth in your words,
Just swishing your legs waywardly in the pools of
water doesn’t make any sense; the real art lies in
audaciously marching towards the summit of victory;
conquering invincible peaks with the colossal strength
they posses,
Just admiring your reflection spuriously in the
transparent mirror doesn’t make any sense at all; the
real art lies in pleasing as many individuals as you
can; mesmerize people around you with your stupendous
beauty and seductive charisma,
Just writing books after books sitting in the
cloistered interiors of your dwelling doesn’t make any
sense at all; the real art lies in propagating your
work to as far and distant as you can; sharing the
essence of your enchanting fantasy with people who
badly needed it,
Just perspiring and appreciating your own golden
globules of sweat as they trickled down doesn’t make
any sense at all; the real art lies in slogging
onerously under the mid-day Sun; to enlighten the
faces of infinite children who were starving on the
streets without their parents,
Just sketching boundless shapes of abstract
imagination on sprawling sheets of scintillating
canvas doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art
lies in capturing the ultimate beauty lingering the
cosmos; the lifestyles of our century old ancestors;
with the pungent bristles of the gaudy paint brush,
Just playing incessantly imprisoned within the
corridors of the ghastly jail doesn’t make any sense
at all; the real art lies in stepping out in brilliant
daylight; letting the poignant sunshine filter a
mystical path across your dainty eyes; frolicking in
glee with the rabbits on the hillside,
Just winking your eye to stimulate your own nerves
umpteenth times in a day doesn’t make any sense at
all; the real art lies in fomenting kids afflicted
with inexplicable disease to have a hearty laugh at
your batting eyelid,
Just growing a garden of roses in your dingy little
kitchen; obfuscated in entirety from the Sun and the
world; doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art
lies in planting them at every cranny you tread; to
spread their supremely mesmerizing fragrance in every
house on this planet,
Just punching the sandbag suspended tamely from the
ceiling doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art
lies in battling the evil circumventing this earth;
sucking blood from innocent individuals like an
venomous parasite,
Just fantasizing wildly about beauty all day doesn’t
make any sense at all; the real art lies in exploring
all tantalizing form created by God on this globe;
further assisting his cause in continuing the chapter
of existence,
Just sleeping for unsurpassable hours on the princely
couch doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies
in sharing it with those who hadn't a roof to
sequester their scalps; ensuring that they eventually
got a bit of restful slumber,
Just remembering your childhood brooding over your
present in utter regret doesn’t make any sense at all;
the real art lies in walking on the sea shores again
like a child; let the mighty waves of the ocean caress
you; make you feel as if you were just born,
Just letting blood rampantly flow in your veins;
swelling in gallons every day as you gobbled food like
a glutton; doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art
lies in engendering it to flow for the person you
revered; disseminating it philanthropically to all
those who were wounded; who died every second in
absence of it,
Just screaming at the top of your lungs standing tall
and domineering at the tip of the perilously deep
mountain doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art
lies in shouting for deprived women; blatantly reveal
the atrocities being committed on them; the way the
weaker sex was brutally assaulted,
Just swimming under the stars; splashing water
lavishly around before ultimately sipping it doesn’t
make any sense at all; the real art lies in sprinkling
each droplet you possessed upon the land and people
struck by savage drought,
Just throbbing your heart violently in perception of
the person you cared doesn’t make any sense at all;
the real art lies in embracing the same in times of
supreme exultation as well as morbid distress,
And just breathing every hour for times immemorial
doesn’t make any sense; the real art lies in deriving
the maximum pleasure out of this life; living every
instant for the person you loved; dedicating your life
to the service of mankind…
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: beauty poems, people poems, swimming poems, water poems, childhood poems, mirror poems, sunshine poems, food poems, evil poems, women poems, strength poems, sun poems, ocean poems, house poems, children poems, work poems, child poems, sea poems, remember poems, rose poems
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1880.
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To win her heart
When I tried to reach her climbing perseveringly on
the ladder; poking my head out embarrassingly; after
reaching the 9th floor,
She gave me an obnoxious stare; thrusted the
broomstick on my face; sending me hurtling down on the
ground; petrified to the last bone of my spine.
When I tried to reach her in my private helicopter;
hovering it at inches from her bedroom window,
She scornfully hurled disdainful pints off vanity
powder at me; thoroughly blinding me; the aftermath of
which caused me to crash land in the wilderness.
When I tried to reach her masquerading my voice like a
female; attempting to fool her on the telephone,
She instantaneously deciphered my tone; barked a
volley of malicious expletives at me; before
ruthlessly banging down the receiver.
When I tried to reach her in my swanky car;
pretentiously blowing its bombastic horn outside her
door,
She mercilessly emptied the garbage can on my bonnet;
left me in open mouthed consternation; with flies and
cockroaches from the sewage crawling all over my body.
When I tried to reach her; sending her flowery
letters; embossed with romantic lines which I had
copied from the Shakespeare,
She had a hearty laugh after browsing through the
same; snapped it into infinite fragments; throwing it
into the remotest corner of her dustbin.
When I tried to reach her via the internet; sending
her a greeting card; studded with outlines of
shimmering silver,
She transferred the same into the trash can simply
viewing my name; let alone reading the first alphabet
of the electronic message.
When I tried to reach her on a horse; gallivanting
effeminately in the vicinity of her residence,
She whispered to her friends to shoo me away; which
they executed with supreme efficiency; pelting me with
their shoes; and whatever rotten piece of junk that
came across their hands.
When I tried to reach her through a diamond set;
transferring the same into her jurisdiction alongwith
a scintillating necklace of white pearls,
She envisaged me to be a rich mans son; distributed
the beads amongst the beggars howling on the streets;
after scrupulously entangling them from the strings.
When I tried to reach her through television;
stylishly proclaiming her name; as well as announcing
a reward to anyone who would bring her alive to me,
She was appalled at my maniacal tendencies; set the
police hot on my trail; for pertinently blackmailing
her.
While it was only when I reached her empty handed;
barged through the door of her house in front of the
unconventional society, audaciously blurted out 'I
love you; looking deeply into her eyes,
That I was able to 'WIN HER HEART' as she now
perceived that I really loved her; wanted to imprison
her forever in the vice like grip of my romance…
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: television poems, romantic poems, romance poems, horse poems, car poems, silver poems, son poems, heart poems, house poems, alone poems, howl poems, friend poems
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