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Best Poems From
NIKHIL PAREKH
(27/08/1977)
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1973.
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When my heart ceased to function
When sensitive tunnels in my eardrum stopped
functioning,
amicable voices of chirping birds failed to cast an
impression,
stringent sounds emanating from vocal chords of my
mother,
struck me as inaudibly sedative whispers of the girl i
immensely loved.
as rosy pink fangs of my tongue shut down without
prior notice,
there were insatiable urges to demonstrate my
emotions,
my face contorted with hapless paralysis,
with my whole being plunging into opalescent fountains
bereft of water.
when indispensable centers of my vision rebuked to
function,
hazy blobs of grayish scarlet inundated my eyeball,
intricate outlines of the moon resembled disheveled
chunks of ice-cream,
the catastrophe had marooned me on a paradise of
dreams,
divested of the philanthropic power to see.
as my stolid pair of my feet brusquely froze in their
advancing tread,
minuscule distances of the city; loomed menacingly as
marathon race tracks,
the simplistic idea of walking seemed bizarrely
austere,
infinite compartments of my body tugged me towards
untimely slumber.
when clusters of my knotted fingers shunned to work,
mystical enigmas in my brain unleashed themselves at
frantic pace,
flowery lines of contemporary literature seemed to
erupt from my mouth,
with my manual apparatus unable to tranform fantasy
into written reality.
and eventually when boisterous threads of my heart
relinquished vibrations,
gallons of crimson blood flowing transited to deathly
blue,
rubicund complexion of my skin developed patches of
febrile yellow,
my moistened breath evaporated in its rudimentary
roots,
and i bid a tearful adieu to mother earth; which i had
inhabited as a man for
50 long years.
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: pink poems, mother poems, city poems, girl poems, power poems, work poems, moon poems, water poems, heart poems, dream poems
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1974.
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When she blushed
WHEN SHE BLUSHED she looked as mesmerizing as the sparkling oyster shell; as impeccable as the moon,
Driving me into waves of stupendous rhapsody; inundating my persona with overwhelming exhilaration.
When she blushed she appeared as ravishing as freshly prepared crusty chocolate; as tantalizing as the crimson rose,
Catapulting me to unexplored arenas of enchantment; taking my breath away for a few seconds from its very roots.
When she blushed she looked as innocuous as a newly born child; crying incessantly for its mother,
Prompting me to shut down all other avenues of work; keep on admiring her until eternity.
When she blushed she appeared as poignant as green chili; as rustic as the primordial tree roots,
Sending a plethora of shivers right down to my veins; imparting my sullen face a prominently mystical smile.
When she blushed she looked as vivacious as the colored rainbow in the sky; as resplendent as the twinkling stars,
Impregnating in me inexplicable sensations; ones which I had never experienced in my life before.
When she blushed she appeared as pellucid as the crystal mountain stream; as innocent as an incongruous birthmark,
Making me erupt effusively with spurts of exuberance; shouting loudly as far as my voice could reach; in the middle of the dead night.
When she blushed she looked as enticing as chilled tangy juice; as majestic as the kingly peacock blossoming its feathers,
Knocking all apprehensions from top drawers of my mind; remarkably transforming the monotonous outlook of my thoughts.
When she blushed she appeared as voluptuous as the pelting rain; as perennial as the lush green blades of grass,
Placing me in a state of speechless ebullience; as she caressed me gently on my bearded cheek.
When she blushed she resembled the radiating reptile rampantly traversing through the jungle; the scarlet winged parrot bathing in the gurgling river,
Engendering my eyes to virtually pop out of their sockets; clenching my fists to salute her in due adulation.
When she blushed she seemed like a celestial fairy having descended from the sky; the most perfect messenger of spontaneous love,
Making me profoundly oblivious to the disparaging world; making me clearly cognize my sole purpose to live; having taken birth on this earth in the form of a man.
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: chocolate poems, fairy poems, rainbow poems, green poems, birth poems, sky poems, river poems, rose poems, work poems, tree poems, rain poems, child poems, moon poems, smile poems, mother poems, children poems, star poems
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1975.
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When sleep inevitably comes
Be it the royal realms of the unbelievably embellished king poster bed; or be it the most treacherously barren slopes of the heartlessly cold-blooded rock which spat nothing but ostracizing disdain,
Be it the majestically silken cocoons of sensuously exhilarating clouds; or be it the unabashedly insect laden shores of the inscrutably rustic forest; bemoaning in the most unrelenting nights of wilderness,
Be it the compassionately invincible quilts of kingly fur; or be it the most fetidly disintegrating pavements; by the tawdrily asphyxiating gutter side; for which the entire world ended and started with the word dirt,
Be it the unassailably priceless lap of the timelessly venerated mother; or be it the most preposterously ghoulish of graveyard; from which nothing else wafted; but the intransigent curses of the lifeless ghosts,
Be it the triumphantly pristine meadow of lush green mesmerizing grass; or be it the most pugnaciously venomous battlefield of gruesome thorns; which solely led to the corpses of lecherous extinction,
Be it the uninhibitedly poignant soil profusely soaked in ubiquitously fresh rain; or be it the bawdily worthless carcasses; which indefatigably rattled with the sounds of ominously deteriorating hell,
Be it the invincibly celestial seat of the jubilantly crimson Mercedes; or be it the balustrades of bizarrely crippling uncertainty; which vengefully permeated with increasing proclivity into every bit of the atmosphere,
Be it the intrepidly regal deck of the insuperably kingly luxury ocean liner; or be it the insanely ribald premises of the soiled lavatory seat; from which emanated nothing but the stench of intolerably strangulating malice,
Be it the eternally relaxing interiors of the beautiful sofa set; or be it the sordidly spit laden streets; from which hurled nothing else but a flurry of disdainfully wretched impoverishment,
Be it the belly of the most charismatically undulating and frosty sea; or be it the hideously sweltering sands of the acrimonious desert; which indiscriminately torched everything to decrepit meaninglessness;
Be it the wings of unconquerably blessing desire; or be it the most disastrously apocalyptic path of delinquent hopelessness; which gave an infinite curses every unveiling instant,
Be it the pillow of magically ameliorating green leaves; or be it the most worthlessly castigating coffin of charcoal; which blackened not just the body; but irrevocably adulterated the soul,
Be it the victoriously breeze laden open roof-top terrace; or be it the most sinfully strangulating gallows of penurious prison; from which drifted solely the cries of the barbarously plundering demon,
Be it the spell-bindingly slow clad apogees of undefeated Everest; or be it the most ridiculously infinitesimal mole hills of the ant; which rendered fresh strength to the corridors of invisibility; every unraveling minute,
Be it the magically rejuvenating rockbed under the iridescently sparkling waterfall; or be it the sinister witch’s abode; which intransigently screamed nothing but the most diabolical wails of death,
Be it the fields of flirtatiously liberated corn; or be it the most robotically disgruntled match-boxed offices of sheer manipulation; from which arose nothing else but the cries of haplessly dying vindication,
Be it the rhapsodically spongy cakes of insatiable prosperity; or be it the most stinkingly depraved carrion; upon which feasted an unfathomable number of inconsolably sacrilegious vultures,
Be it the perennially undefeated lion’s cave; or be it the miserably clammy rats den; which was inhabited by nothing else but the derogatorily rebuking spirit of staleness,
Just doesn’t matter the slightest. Because when sleep inevitably comes; it doesn’t see the time; place; circumstance that you’re placed in; simply and invincibly shutting your eyes to even the most evanescent consternation in the atmosphere; timelessly ensuring that whenever you awoke; you witnessed every bit of the fathomlessly undying Universe; in the most optimistically rejuvenated and Omnipotent of light…
©®copyright-2005, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
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1976.
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When the heart wasnt throbbing
When the thunderously voluptuous clouds weren’t showering golden rain; they were still wonderfully enamoring countless; in the swirl of their unsurpassably untainted sensuality,
When the poignantly scarlet roses weren’t blossoming into ecstatic vitality; they were still tirelessly disseminating the scent of seduction; to every cranny of this fathomlessly blissful Universe,
When the beautifully nubile lips weren’t burgeoning into a festoon of smiles; they were still amiably kissing every conceivable form of astounding desire; on the trajectory of this boundlessly iridescent earth,
When the honestly persevering armpits weren’t sweating into cisterns of shimmering sweat; they were still diffusing the spirit of tirelessly unparalleled righteousness to every entity; traversing symbiotically alive,
When the effulgently victorious wind wasn’t blowing into draughts of exuberantly pristine breeze; it was still enthralling countless haplessly divested organisms; with its fearlessly divine stillness,
When the robustly ecstatic mouth wasn’t synergistically consuming indispensable morsels of food; it was still enlightening an infinite miserably deprived entities on planet earth; with the profound enchantment of its voice,
When the majestically unfettered mother wasn’t feeding her own impeccable babies; she was still wafting an invincible atmosphere of eternal compassion to every tangible and intangible quarter of this victorious Universe,
When the unflinchingly handsome soldiers weren’t valiantly fighting at war; they were still perpetuating indomitably fearless molecules of royal bravery; in every preposterously dastardly heart alive,
When the poignantly blissful soil wasn’t sprouting into insuperably princely grain; it was still generating thunderbolts of untamed virility; into every ounce of impotence in the lackadaisical atmosphere,
When the beautifully enamoring cheeks weren’t blushing into unbelievably crimson radiance; they were still culminating into a cloudburst of sensuously priceless mischief; all across the interminable planet,
When the passionately emerald grass blades weren’t oozing beautifully synergistic dewdrops; they were still rhapsodically culminating into a civilization of bounteously rejuvenating newness,
When the insuperably determined mountains weren’t peaking towards the ultimate summits of eternity; they were still altruistically sequestering every fraternity of living kind in their fortified lap; far away from hedonistic duress,
When unbelievably blessed Man & Woman weren’t tirelessly mating; they were still stupefying every patch of insouciantly barren mud that they tread on; with their undyingly untamed virility,
When the innocuously resplendent stars weren’t vividly twinkling; they were still evolving into a fireball of unlimitedly fantastic and enigmatically jubilant enthuse,
When the artistically nimble veins weren’t carrying poignantly crimson blood; they were still disseminating the spirit of unassailably blessing humanity; to the farthest corner of this magically ameliorating Universe,
When the ingeniously unconquerable brain wasn’t insatiably fantasizing into the realms of paradise; it was still pragmatically acting to the inevitably quintessential instincts of; “Survival of the fittest”,
When the amazingly sensitive ears weren’t dangling into the dormitories of unsurpassable stardom; they were still brilliantly sensitive to even the most infinitesimal whisker of sound,
When the victoriously pristine nostrils weren’t breathing fireballs of spell-binding existence; they were still perpetuating the indispensable instinct of indefatigable life; into every organism haplessly staggering and yet alive,
And when the fathomlessly benign heart wasn’t throbbing the beats of perennially fructifying love; it was still triggering the waves of pricelessly inimitable humanity in every bit of tangible space and organism; on this limitlessly unfettered Universe…
©®copyright-2005, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read more: food poems, heart poems, war poems, woman poems, rain poems, mother poems, wind poems, kiss poems, rose poems, smile poems, soldier poems, star poems, women poems
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