Famous Indian Poets written award winning poems on love, friendship, war, beauty poetry.
  Records & Awards
  Contact & Network
 
  Home
  Biography & Media
  Poetry Books
  Poems
 
Thousands of Nikhil Parekh's poems on God, Peace, Love, Brotherhood, Friendship, Humanity, Environment, Anti Terror, Lovers, Life, Death - here. Click on Page Numbers below to read complete poems. Each page has 10 poems. 
 
Search Poetry :    
<< Previous   Next >>
»Without my priceless beloved

 

The Sun outside was flaming; blistering into infinite
shades of grandiloquent crimson as the clouds drifted
by,
Yet the interiors of my dwelling were engulfed by a
perpetual darkness; the most minuscule shimmer
irrevocably refusing to enter; without my priceless
beloved….

The trees outside swayed exuberantly; as the
vivaciously exotic storm descended full throttle upon
the dolorously gloomy atmosphere,
Yet the rooms of my dwelling were flooded with satanic
globules of blood; and time catapulted back instead of
ticking forward; without my priceless beloved….

The stars in the sky outside twinkled to the most
unprecedented glow; illuminating every alley of the
fathomless planet with profusely enchanting songs of
romance,
Yet each wall of my dwelling wept tears of untamed
sorrow; a ghastly solitude entrenched the handsome
backdropp of furniture; traumatized by the absence of
my priceless beloved….

The wind outside titillated itself to the most
unfathomable horizons of heaven; as cloudbursts of
sparkling rain tumbled rhapsodically from the sky,
Yet the windows of my dwelling intransigently
refrained from opening; sulking in the realms of
profound boredom; without my priceless beloved…

The peacocks outside on the grass danced to their
ultimate hearts content; blossoming their feathers
into an incredulous festoon of gorgeously vivid color,
Yet there was unsurpassable boredom in my dwelling;
with an eerie wave of silence cascading till the last
bone down my spine; without my priceless beloved….

The panthers outside in the jungle gallivanted
majestically up the hills; with a crown of marvelous
glittering royally on their heads,
Yet there was a cloud of barbaric death loitering in
every corner of my dwelling; my tongue abdicated to
speak even my very own name; without my priceless
beloved….

The planet outside brimmed with overwhelming activity;
as the wails of boundless newly born stole the hearts
of the most treacherously diabolical wandering around,
Yet the floors of my dwelling culminated into a
horrendously pugnacious fragrance; with even the
parasitic fleet of mosquitoes not interested in
sucking blood; as they inevitably missed my priceless
beloved…

The battalion of soldiers outside marched invincibly
forward for their country; with an immortal spirit of
glorious matrydom poignantly diffusing from their
eyes,
Yet the shadows inside my dwelling immutably refused
to subside; lengthening their sinister cover even
under the most dazzling of daylight; as they waited in
anticipation for my priceless beloved…

And the world outside spawned into a new beginning as
each day transcended over the resplendent night; with
the prolific winds of change taking an optimistic
stranglehold on the brutality of the previous day,
Yet the oligarchic space of my dwelling kept crawling
towards an inevitable blackness; kept dying the most
heinous death in a mist of fading oblivion; without my
priceless beloved….

(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Without the Immortal Love of a Woman…

 

Every man’s eye is devastatingly empty; unbearably rotting towards the dungeons of diabolical hell; without the celestially commiserating reflections of a bountiful woman,

Every man’s palm is sinfully empty; barbarously rotting towards the coffins of penalizing hell; without the compassionately befriending grip of an honest woman,

Every man’s vein is dreadfully empty; devilishly rotting towards the vacuum of torturous hell; without the invincibly righteous rudiments of a sacrosanct woman,

Every man’s brain is deliriously empty; sadistically rotting towards the thorns of cold-blooded hell; without the unsurpassably ebullient fantasies of an eclectic woman,

Every man’s lip is ghastily empty; tawdrily rotting towards the mortuaries of parasitic hell; without the wondrously igniting kisses of an ardent woman,

Every man’s shadow is venomously empty; carnivorously rotting towards the skeletons of hideous hell; without the mellifluously symbiotic sweetness of a benign woman,

Every man’s signature is disastrously empty; egregiously rotting towards the nothingness of hedonistic hell; without the astoundingly ameliorating reflection of a caring woman,

Every man’s mission is treacherously empty; horrendously rotting towards the dirt of excoriating hell; without the pricelessly unconquerable encouragement of a blessed woman,

Every man’s lung is cripplingly empty; nonsensically rotting towards the meaninglessness of asphyxiating hell; without the unassailably reinvigorating breath of a timeless woman,

Every man’s cheek is lecherously empty; salaciously rotting towards the perversions of crucifying hell; without the mischievously spell binding peck of an untamed woman,

Every man’s chest is drearily empty; ignominiously rotting towards the blackness of massacring hell; without the magically reincarnating caress of a sensuous woman,

Every man’s spine is lividly empty; preposterously rotting towards the holocaust of morbid hell; without the insurmountably majestic virility of an enigmatic woman,

Every man’s adventure is hopelessly empty; sacrilegiously rotting towards the ghost of tormenting hell; without the inscrutably tantalizing echo of a mesmerizing woman,

Every man’s skin is frigidly empty; inconsolably rotting towards the whiplash of strangulating hell; without the fathomlessly unabashed exhilaration of an intrepid woman,

Every man’s soul is cursedly empty; inexplicably rotting towards the gallows of murderous hell; without the infallibly consecrating sensitivity of a vivacious woman,

Every man’s shoulder is dolorously empty; blasphemously rotting towards the shards of deteriorating hell; without the amazingly unflinching unity of a blissful woman,

Every man’s ear is abjectly empty; viciously rotting towards the gutters of malevolent hell; without the enchantingly unfettered voice of a mystical woman,

Every man’s nostril is despondently empty; perilously rotting towards the wickedness of baseless hell; without the perennially life-yielding fragrance of an intricate woman,

And every man’s heart is haplessly empty; unsparingly rotting towards the evil jinx of cannibalistic hell; without the immortally embracing love of a faithful woman….

©®copyright by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Without the slightest of fear

 

When I sat under fulminating beams of the Sun; I felt
an insatiable urge in my body to leap in untamed
exhilaration and dance,

When I sat in front of the scintillating mirror; I
felt like candidly analyzing even the most minuscule
part of my persona,

When I sat beside the enchantingly serene riverside; I
felt like nostalgically reminiscing the innocuous
flurry of moments which had wholesomely enveloped my
childhood,

When I sat by the profusely foliated tree; I felt like
bouncing up and down like the vivacious squirrels;
wistfully awaiting for the succulent fruits to
harmoniously pour down; on my famished belly,

When I sat under the conglomerate of voluptuously
exotic clouds; I felt like wandering with the heavenly
fairies; fantasizing my mind to the most unprecedented
limits,

When I sat eye to eye with the hideously ominous
snake; I felt the adrenaline building inevitably in my
bowels; a horrendously ghastly sensation encapsulating
the whole of my body to puke out my morning breakfast,

When I sat on the stern of the grandiloquent ship; I
felt younger than a wailing child; with the exuberant
waves of the ocean; impregnating Herculean loads of
rejuvenating energy in my dreary bones,

When I sat on a blanket of chilly snow; I felt numbing
arrows of death stabbing me from all sides; the
scarlet blood running robustly through my veins;
freezing into rosy ice-cream,

When I sat on the panthers back; I felt for a moment
to be the king of the jungle; although I had my heart
in my bootlaces after a while had elapsed; and the
beast snarled ferociously to its hearts content,

When I sat abreast a hive of swarming bees; I
fantastically felt the cocoons of golden honey
sandwiched handsomely in the pockets; however was soon
transported several feet beneath my coffin; as the
Queen maiden kissed me nimbly on my nose,

When I sat near the dolorously morbid grave; I felt
tears of inexplicable agony well up my eyes; an
uncanny wave of fear slowly engulf my blissful soul,

When I sat on a battalion of menacing crocodiles; I
felt overwhelmingly excruciating pangs of pain; as the
monsters ripped me apart till the last bone down my
spine,

When I sat on the century old vacant throne; I felt
like a majestically embellished royal prince; having
been given the supreme reigns in my hands; to rule the
township once again,

When I sat amidst an army of pot-bellied tortoise; I
felt whirlpools of laziness circumvent my demeanor; an
inexorably urge in my body to sleep in contentment
till times immemorial,

When I sat on the splendidly striped dolphins; I felt
like swirling in full fervor of boisterous life;
rolling my visage in tumultuous frenzy with the
splashing water,

When I sat on an island coated with disdainfully slimy
oil; I felt like slipping indefatigably towards
treacherous nothingness; with my grip on planet earth
slackening miserably as each second unveiled,

When I sat on the summit of the astronomically
towering mountain; I felt the entire world was a box
of insipid matchsticks; drank air into my lungs like a
man inhaling his last breath,

When I sat at whisker lengths from my beloved; I felt
infernos of invincible passion entrench my
countenance; an irrefutable longing in my lips to
caress her rubicund cheeks,

When I sat in front of the Creator's idol; I felt
blessed in every single respect of existing life;
emerged victorious from behind my vicious cloudburst
of gloom; to spread the true essence of happiness,

While it was only when I sat close to my mother; that
I felt I was the strongest man on this earth;
divulging to her whatever circulated in the inner most
compartments of my heart; and it was here that my
world came to an abrupt end; and it was here that I
discovered my true identity; and it was here that I
slept immortally without the slightest of fear….


(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Without the slightest of hindrance setting in

 

Before I could even realize that it was “Day”; or relish its brilliantly optimistic light; the dolorously maiming horizons of evening set in; leaving me haplessly wandering in inexplicable gloom,

Before I could even realize that they were “Shores”; or relish their tantalizingly moistened sands; the ferociously devastating waves of the sea set in; disastrously swiping me from my nimble feet; and into the stormy depths of treacherously bewildering nothingness,

Before I could even realize that it was “Night”; or relish its voluptuously enigmatic softness; the horrendous fronds of sleep disdainfully set in; plunging me into a mortuary of unprecedentedly crippling blackness,

Before I could even realize that it was “Sun”; or relish its Omnipotently flaming rays; the ominously pillaging clouds dreadfully set in; rendering me with nothing else but lividly asphyxiating pangs of depression,

Before I could even realize that it was “Candle-light”; or relish its majestically peerless grandeur; the hedonistically massacring tornadoes set in; blowing me and the flames away into inane wisps of wanton meaninglessness,

Before I could even realize that it was “Mystery”; or relish its uncannily enamoring scent; the monotonously pragmatic riddle set in; metamorphosing every of my bountifully unbridled fantasy into robotic despair,

Before I could even realize that it was “Child-birth”; or relish its astoundingly pristine mischievousness; the agonizingly bruised cry of accidental death set in; transforming me into an emotionlessly living corpse,

Before I could even realize that it was “Food”; or relish its salubriously succulent jugglery of juices; the insouciantly tawdry stream of feces set in; drifting even the most infinitesimal ounce of my mind; body and soul; into cadaverous emptiness,

Before I could even realize that it was “Ice”; or relish its royally impeccable demeanor; the vindictively unsparing beams of afternoon set in; melting every iota of my unimpeachable integrity into infinite pools of amorphously pathetic liquid,

Before I could even realize that it was “Parenthood”; or relish its compassionately divine belonging; the cannibalistic battlefields of malicious divorce set in; wholesomely shattering every heavenly dream of mine into bizarre salaciousness,

Before I could even realize that it was “Sweat”; or relish its timelessly persevering masculinity; the inevitably tantalizing breeze of laziness set in; perpetuating me to snore like an infidel eunuch; instead of gloriously replenishing with the fruits of hard work,

Before I could even realize that it was “Humanity”; or relish its unassailably Omnipresent fragrance; the atrociously indiscriminate wail of war set in; fomenting me to tyrannically bleed till my last breath,

Before I could even realize that it was “Artistry”; or relish its unabashedly glorious sensitivity; the coffins of deplorably sacrilegious manipulation set in; gruesomely burying every ingredient of my righteousness; into the indescribably crucifying shit-pots of hell,

Before I could even realize that it was “Smile”; or relish its insuperably optimistic flavor; the preposterously languid yawn set in; lecherously dragging me into the most obliviously dilapidated maelstroms of boredom,
Before I could even realize that it was “Honesty”; or relish its unconquerably unflinching mirrors of truth; the fretfully ghoulish winds of parasitic politics set in; making me rub my nose in inconspicuously worthless dust,

Before I could even realize that it was “Perfection”; or relish its undauntedly ecstatic supremacy; the inconsolably bawdy human errors set in; satanically defeating me in the most quintessential processes of my existence,

Before I could even realize that it was “Virility”; or relish its fantastically untainted atmosphere of celestial triumph; the indiscriminately trampling footsteps of the devil set in; engendering me to crumble beyond holistic degrees of recognition,

Before I could even realize that it was “Breath”; or relish its unassailably fearless exhilaration; the unrelentingly victimizing gallows of death set in; rendering me to nothing else but an invisibly frigid whisker of worthlessness,







But before I could realize or even after I realized it; or whether I actually realized it the tiniest or not; the signature of her immortal love remained perpetually embossed in every beat of my passionate heart; for even an infinite lifetimes after this destined life of mine; and without the slightest of hindrance setting in….

©®copyright-2005, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Without these three

 

Without these three I would have run, but without the
slightest power or tenacity in my legs,

Without these three I would have dreamt, but those
fantasies would have revolved wholesomely around
ghastly death,

Without these three I would have smiled, but that
tinkle on my face would have been as morbid as the
buried corpse,

Without these three I would have eaten food, but each
morsel would have been like a million barrels of
poison,

Without these three I would have kissed, but my caress
would diffuse cancerous tissues instead of spreading
the bond of friendship,

Without these three I would have read, but the letters
would have seemed darker than the blackest of clouds,

Without these three I would have cried, but the tears
which dribbled down my cheek would be of pure blood,

Without these three I would have earned money, but the
currency would have been as infinitesimal as ash for
me,

Without these three I would have attended parties, but
would have sequestered myself under the table, with a
pool of mosquitoes hovering around,

Without these three I would have seen people wandering
around, but they would appear to me as lifeless
entities,

Without these three I would have heard voices, but
would have forgotten to decipher the melody in the
sound,

Without these three I would have gulped water, but
would have remained thirsty all throughout the day,

Without these three I would have written long letters,
but would perceive each word embossed as a rotten
abuse,

Without these three I would have driven my vehicle,
but would loose complete control of the steering
wheel,

Without these three I would have worn clothes, but
would have people laughing as I had worn my trousers
enveloping my neck instead of my shirt,

Without these three I would have sat on the royal
chair, but would have tripped head-on on the floor,
disdainfully losing my balance,

Without these three I would have gone to the market,
but would have spent my entire wallet on a flimsy
chunk of spiceless vegetable,

Without these three I would have fought valiantly with
my fists, but each punch of mine would have been like
frozen ice,

Without these three I would have behaved, but only for
the sake of appeasing a bunch of idiots running the
family business,

Without these three I would have perhaps have existed,
lived for the heck of it, but without my heart
actually throbbing in my ribs,

And I know, by now you must be desperately waiting to
know their names, And I have not the slightest of
hesitation; infact am proud to christen the three
immortals in my life as my 'CREATOR', my 'MOTHER', and
my 'BELOVED'...


(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Without waiting

 

Without waiting for unflinching strength to peerlessly
enshroud my arms; if I plunged head-on into the
ferociously beheading battlefield; then the aftermath
of it would be; ignominiously crippling defeat;
instead,

Without waiting for priceless empathy to selflessly
encircle the periphery of my eyes; if I galloped on an
inexhaustible mission to embrace every echelon of
brutally tyrannized humanity; then the aftermath of it
would be; hapless disintegration into gruesomely cruel
nothingness; instead,

Without waiting for fructifying thoughts to
brilliantly spawn in my brain; if I commenced to write
the most literary Herculean epic of my time; then the
aftermath of it would be; baseless balderdash
raunchily perspiring from everywhere; instead,

Without waiting for triumphant melody to fantastically
brew up my throat; if I started to perpetuate every
cranny of the fathomless Universe with a celestially
enchanting song; then the aftermath of it would be; a
corpse of indescribably cacophonic ghoulishness;
instead,

Without waiting for effulgent smiles to uninhibitedly
the contours of my lips; if I chivalrously tried to
disseminate the essence of true conviviality amidst
every disparagingly beleaguered organism on this
planet; then the aftermath of it would be; a
cloudburst of tears erupting at every step that I
took; instead,

Without waiting for indispensable hunger to
reverberate from the hollow of my stomach; if I
devoured every sumptuously succulent delicacy on this
boundless earth; then the aftermath of it would be; a
vomit with such ghastly rebuke which would horridly
desecrate the purest of soils; instead,

Without waiting for sleep to wholesomely relinquish my
eyes; if I commenced to segregate the quintessential
needle from the fecklessly looming haystack; then the
aftermath of it would be; every trace of holistic
sanctity metamorphosing into tawdrily suffocating
deliriousness; instead,

Without waiting for blood to ecstatically rush through
my veins; if I drifted into the valley of
unsurpassably timeless adventure; then the aftermath
of it would be; deterioration into a gutter of inanely
fatigued meaninglessness; instead,

Without waiting for blazing truth to unrestrictedly
permeate my conscience; if I indefatigably proceeded
to teach the chapters of symbiotic humanity; then the
aftermath of it would be; being brutally charred to
the dungeons of hell; instead,

Without waiting for jubilant virility to consummately
bless my persona; if I attempted to procreate the
countless of own living kind; then the aftermath of it
would be; delinquently choking stagnation forever and
ever and ever; instead,

Without waiting for the waves of perennial contentment
to endow my soul; if I tried to miraculously mitigate
the suffering of every wounded soldier on this globe;
then the aftermath of it would be; every bit of benign
goodness transforming into sadistically cannibalistic
blood; instead,

Without waiting for passion to tower high and handsome
into my fingers; if I tried to blissfully sketch every
inch of the Lord’s panoramically boundless creation;
then the aftermath of it would be; egregiously
amorphous skeletons wailing till times immemorial;
instead,

Without waiting for a surreal yawn to wonderfully
besiege my mouth; if I tried to timelessly snore under
my silken nocturnal quilt; then the aftermath of it
would be; a night of wretchedly maniacal and
diabolical desperation; instead,

Without waiting for the rhythm of marvelous pragmatism
to wholesomely drape my senses; if I started to solve
the inexplicably carcinogenic riddles of every
dwelling in acrimonious despair; then the aftermath of
it would be; vanishing like a frigid whisker even
before uttering a singleton word; instead,

Without waiting for naturally inevitable pressure
pounding on my bowels; if I tried to expurgate in such
a way that I would never ever have to go to the
lavatory for a lifetime; then the aftermath of it
would be; the mortuary of insanity galore dissolving
me into cadaverous emptiness; instead,

Without waiting for hair to extrude from my scalp and
skin; if I valiantly subjected myself to the winds of
the chilliest of winter; then the aftermath of it
would be; forlornly fretting in uncontrollably
emaciating pneumonia for the remainder of my life;
instead,

Without waiting for inferno’s of seductively untamed
passion to royally enslave my silhouette; if I leapt
out to ignite desire into every disconsolately
decrepit organism on unceasing earth; then the
aftermath of it would be; jailhouses of sleazy
infertility reigning mockingly supreme; instead,

Without waiting for my lungs to harmoniously sing for
quintessential oxygen; if I tried to inhale every bit
of synergistically emollient air on the trajectory of
this limitless Universe; then the aftermath of it
would be; a ludicrously inflated balloon ready to
burst into an infinite bits of infinitesimal
stupidity; instead,


And without waiting for my heart to compassionately
throb within my chest; if I tried to bond every of its
beat with the chapters of Immortally insuperable love
in this entire world; then the aftermath of it would
be; vindictively vituperative and unbearable betrayal;
instead…



(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Without you O! Beloved

 

Without you; the most tantalizing morsels of robustly
sparkling food; seemed to me worse than threadbare
chunks of inconspicuously insipid stone; as I
relinquished even the tiniest of desire; to
wholeheartedly eat,

Without you; the most opulently woven clothes; seemed
to me worse than dead leaves loitering invidiously on
the morbid corpses; as I relinquished even the tiniest
of desire; to fabulously dress,

Without you; the most grandiloquent of embellished
castles; seemed to me worse than miserably dwindling
mosquitoes; as I relinquished even the tiniest of
desire; to compassionately exist,

Without you; the most rhapsodically crimson clouds;
seemed to me worse than pathetically sweltering
deserts; as I relinquished even the tiniest of
desire; to exuberantly gallop,

Without you; the most ravishingly enchanting
crystalline streams; seemed to me worse than uncouthly
clattering stones; as I relinquished even the tiniest
of desire; to ebulliently bathe,

Without you; the most stupendously ecstatic aircrafts;
seemed to me worse than a languid ocean of
remorsefully sulking tortoise; as I relinquished even
the tiniest of desire; to euphorically fly,

Without you; the most vivaciously resplendent
rainbows; seemed to me worse than ludicrously pathetic
wisps of distantly disappearing oblivion; as I
relinquished even the tiniest of desire; to
majestically sight,

Without you; the most enchantingly spell binding
literature; seemed to me worse than a rotten tomato
being squelched to a ghastly death; as I relinquished
even the tiniest of desire; to poignantly read,


Without you; the most wonderfully dancing fairies;
seemed to me worse than a dilapidated trench of rotten
cowdung plaster; as I relinquished even the tiniest of
desire; to profoundly admire,

Without you; the most passionately thunderous
thunderbolts of lightening; seemed to me worse than
inconspicuously soggy matchsticks deteriorating on
obdurately cold ground; as I relinquished even the
tiniest of desire; to perspicaciously discern sound,

Without you; the most overwhelmingly fragrant roses;
seemed to me worse than garbage spewed out abundantly
from the gory gutters; as I relinquished even the
tiniest of desire; to artistically inhale,

Without you; the most divinely tufts of astonishingly
warm wool; seemed to me worse than infinitesimal
specks of disastrously shivering ice; as I
relinquished even the tiniest of desire; to
gregariously relish,

Without you; the most impeccably gallivanting and
boisterous children; seemed to me worse than
despondently crestfallen chunks of worthless soil; as
I relinquished even the tiniest of desire; to
uninhibitedly embrace,

Without you; the most handsomely flaming rays of the
glorious Sun; seemed to me worse than a capriciously
frigid whisker dipped in ridiculous boredom; as I
relinquished even the tiniest of desire; to royally
enlighten,

Without you; the most unfathomably overflowing
treasuries of glittering gold; seemed to me worse than
disdainfully lackluster chalk; as I relinquished even
the tiniest of desire; to bountifully posses,

Without you; the most charismatically voluptuous
smiles; seemed to me worse than an unimaginably morbid
well of deplorable tears; as I relinquished even the
tiniest of desire; to uncontrollably laugh,

Without you; the most mystically ardent forests;
seemed to me worse than manipulatively monotonous
offices inundated with blood sucking tycoons; as I
relinquished even the tiniest of desire; to
ecstatically dream,

Without you; the most fervently cascading and
perennial breaths; seemed to me worse than a
boundlessly shattered carcass of bones decaying since
centuries immemorial beneath soil; as I relinquished
even the tiniest of desire; to irrefutably belong,

Without you; the most immortally passionate
heartbeats; seemed to me worse than meaningless
feathers of spuriously fading fascination; as I
relinquished even the tiniest of desire; to
unequivocally love,

And without you O! Beloved; the most invincible
chapters of vibrant life; seemed to me worse than a
countless gruesome deaths; as I relinquished even the
tiniest of desire; to blissfully live…..


(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Woman

 

A garden of voluptuously endless scent; sprouting into
a bountiful maze of tantalizing color and vibrancy;
every unleashing minute of the panoramic day,




A fortress of unflinchingly impregnable solidarity;
tirelessly inspiring one and all of her
compassionately gregarious kin,




A fountain of resplendent graciousness; disseminating
the fragrance of everlasting empathy; on every
impoverished step that she majestically tread,




A cloudburst of insatiably untamed yearning; as she
triggered fireballs of unsurpassably untamed desire;
even in the heart of the sordidly treacherous and
remorseful night,




A waterfall of astoundingly scintillating radiance; as
she unveiled an unfathomable veil of regale artistry
in every ingredient of the vivaciously bustling
atmosphere,




A wave of perennially heartfelt emotions; ardently
exploring the fathomless chapters of existence; as the
Omnipotent sun bloomed full throttle in the whites of
her immaculately pristine eyes,




An apostle of humanitarian bonding; embracing all
spell binding goodness of this gigantic Universe;
wonderfully in her compassionately amiable bosom,




A forest of eternally proliferating sensuousness;
profusely oozing into unsurpassable rivulets of
ingratiating enchantment; as voluptuous darkness took
an invincible grip on disdainfully inclement light,




A perpetually perfect dream for any artist; as he
assimilated even the most infinitesimal iota of her
celestially sparkling beauty; in the fathomless
embodiment of his timeless canvas,




An everlastingly Optimistic light; that maneuvers you
towards a paradise of divine rhapsody and unending
exuberance; when you felt your nerves being brutally
annihilated by swords of bizarre manipulation,




A melodiously evergreen song; that rejuvenates every
despicably dying speck of your frazzled visage;
marvelously drifting you towards a sky of vividly
fascinating newness,




An insurmountably poignant gorge of vibrant
titillation; blissfully enrapturing even the most
drearily alien; into a cocoon of mesmerizing smiles,




A harbinger of ubiquitously immortal peace; divinely
soothing every invidiously adulterated web of
discordant hoarseness; with the stupendously
supernatural melody in her voice,




A selfless mirror of beautifully scintillating
reality; uninhibitedly unleashing the corridors of her
impeccable soul; to all philanthropically blending on
the trajectory of this gargantuan earth,




An indefatigable saga of tumultuous passion and
turmoil; wholeheartedly weathering every stage of
inexplicably enigmatic existence; in harmoniously
triumphant synergy with the; Almighty Divine,




A rainbow of Omnisciently perpetuating shine;
inundating even the most preposterously indigent of
lives; with gloriously unblemished rivers of ecstatic
seduction,




A wind of fabulously reinvigorating freshness;
unbelievably replenishing even the most capriciously
infidel of your beleaguered senses; with the essence
of Omnipresent mankind,




An unparalleled inferno of magnetically alluring
breath; immortally throbbing to insatiably assimilate
all love that lay boundlessly scattered; on this
incomprehensibly vast planet,




And although she existed in unfathomable roles in
today’s society; at times a sacrosanct Mother; at
times a mischievous sister; at times an enchanting
seductress; at times a compassionate wife; at times an
affable aunt; at times an eternal grandmother;




There was one solemnization that was unassailably
common for each of her form; as she would for infinite
birth’s remain God’s most pricelessly beautiful
creation; she would forever be crowned as a
resplendent WOMAN….


©COPYRIGHT-2003, BY NIKHIL PAREKH. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
 
»Womb

 

There was no mountain born on this Universe; which was
more formidable than it; coming even an infinitesimal
iota abreast its impregnable tenacity,

There was no fire born on this Universe; which was
more vivaciously flamboyant than it; as it incessantly
swirled in the aisles of vibrant compassion,

There was no color born on this Universe; which was
more gorgeous than it; as it resembled the angels in
the sweltering heat of the day; as well as each
instant of the voluptuously alluring night,

There was no sky born on this Universe; which was more
fathomless than it; as it was the procreator of every
tangible entity wandering merrily on this colossal
planet,

There was no flower born on this Universe; which was
more fragrant than it; as it bloomed fabulously into a
scent; that caressed the souls of countless loitering
aimlessly; alike,

There was no contraption born on this Universe; which
was more contemporary than it; as it incredulously
withstood the test of all times; evolving the most
ingeniously superior organism; like brilliant streaks
of white electricity in blue sky,

There was no ocean born on this Universe; which was
more unfathomable than it; as it ubiquitously
disseminated its waves of harmony and perennial bliss;
to all those shivering in torrential pain,

There was no magnet born on this Universe; which was
more attractive than it; as it captivated even the
most remotely alien of persona; in its stupendously
divine swirl,

There was no philosophy born on this Universe; which
was more sacrosanct than it; as it preached the most
holistic existence; even centuries before you were
born,

There was no truth born on this Universe; which was
more irrefutable than it; as it triumphantly massacred
the very essence of blatant lies; from even the most
oblivious wind of this gigantic earth,

There was no power born on this Universe; which was
more invincible than it; as it defended you against
the most mightiest of attacks; within a single wink of
its eye,

There was no entertainment born on this Universe;
which was more efficacious than its flurry of
boisterous activity; pacifying each of your
overwhelmingly frazzled senses; with its miraculous
enchantment and charm,

There was no Sun born on this Universe; which was more
dazzling than it; as it spread the aura of its
marvelously Omnipotent shine; to each house miserably
staggering in ghastly blackness,

There was no star born on this Universe; which was
more resplendent than it; as it filtered its
charismatically symbiotic beams; to profoundly
illuminate the disdainful caricature of unearthly
darkness,

There was no wind born on this Universe; which was
more serene than it; as it insurmountably mollified
every traumatically agonized individual; in the river
of its unending love,

There was no bird born on this Universe; which could
fly higher than it; as it indefatigably soared higher
than the satiny clouds; uplifting the impoverished
into an entrenchment of celestial goodness,

There was no mysticism born on this Universe; which
was more enigmatic than it; as it engulfed even the
most treacherously mundane of entity in the poignantly
escalating wave of its mesmerizing enthrallment,

There was no complexion born on this Universe; which
was more beautiful than it; as it imparted perennial
shelter to the profusely infirm; in its unbelievably
passionate interiors,

There was no victory born on this Universe; which was
more greater than it; as it tirelessly fought not just
for itself; but for shielding the lives of boundless
innocent; about to be born,

There was no tree born on this Universe; which was
more bountiful than it; as it perpetually bestowed the
most wonderfully priceless gift of humanity; in each
hopelessly barren cranny of this gargantuan world,

There was no smile born on this Universe; which was
more benevolent than it; as it magnanimously embraced
even the most hideously sinister in its heavenly
swirl; giving all an equal opportunity to diffuse
their quota of goodness on this planet,

There was no emotion born on this Universe; which was
more effusively volatile than it; as it fulminated
into the most glorious catharsis of the conscience
every unveiling moment; striking the chord of humanity
with incomprehensible; alike,

There was no blessing born on this Universe; which was
more benign than it; as it spread the sweetness of
symbiotic survival; granted every philanthropic wish
of yours; even before you could nimbly utter it,

There was no richness born on this Universe; which was
more opulent than it; as it made you feel the most
prosperous organism alive; even in infinite more
births you were destined to take birth again,

There was no aroma born on this Universe; which was
more Omnipresent than it; as it inhabited each
dwelling where there even the most inconspicuous sign
of life; relentlessly propelling the chapter of
existence to continue till the time God wanted it to,

There was no enchantment born on this Universe; which
was more stupefying than it; as it cast its
majestically spell binding spirit; to every soul
withering abominably towards the corridors of
threadbare extinction,

There was no ray born on this Universe; which was more
handsome than it; as it blazed a trail of ultimate
splendor; even on the most pathetically dwindling
paths that it caressed,

There was no energy born on this Universe; which was
more everlasting than it; as it single handedly bore
the brunt of all the ferociously diabolical around;
unshakably rising to every ruthless disaster; like a
supremely embellished princess,

There was no summit born on this Universe; which was
more towering than it; as it overshadowed every shade
of the invidiously evil; with its royal grace and
Omniscient light,

There was no bond born on this Universe; which was
more stronger than it; as it astoundingly fortified
its Oligarchic grip; upon the cradle of compassionate
empathy; for unbelievable more lives to come,
There was no sword born on this Universe; which was
more mightier than it; as it beheaded even the most
infinitesimal of devil; lingering insidiously around
its innocuously frolicking children,

There was no seed born on this Universe; which was
more fertile than it; as it blossomed into a festoon
of newness and excitement every unfurling minute;
spawning the most exotic creation of Almighty Lord,

There was no season born on this Universe; which was
more ravishing than it; as it showered its virtue of
ever pervading righteousness; upon each molecule of
God; in an enclosure of harmonious unity and
humanitarian pride,

There was no path born on this Universe which was more
enticing than it; as it unrelentingly intrigued
countless; with its incomprehensibly unending prowess
to serve all mankind,

There was no continent born on this Universe; which
was more fascinating than it; as it harbored each
element of prosperous survival in its amicable
corridors; ensuring that all those benevolent; reached
the pinnacle of glittering success,

There was no honey born on this Universe; which was
more sweeter than it; as it wholeheartedly distributed
the winds of united existence; propagated the essence
of solidarity in every passionate heart on this earth,

There was no rainbow on this Universe; which was more
magically striking than it; as it unfurled into an
unsurpassable myriad of enriching shades; to grant all
those deluged in drudgery; an absolute reprieve from
sinful malice,

There was no soil born on this Universe; which was
more ravishing than it; as it culminated into an
emphatic breeze of friendship; in the most malevolent
of storm; and harmony; alike,

There was no relationship born on this Universe; which
was more amiable than it; as it offered its ubiquitous
wings to all those treacherously deprived who needed
it; before offering them unequivocal shelter for the
freezing night,

There was no artist born on this Universe; who was
more passionate than it; as it assimilated all the
beauty of this globe; in its cradle of ebullient
happiness,

There was no sound born on this Universe; which was
more melodious than it; as it euphorically sung the
tunes of a splendidly incarcerating life; mitigating
all those engulfed with horrifically despicable
despair,

There was no meadow born on this Universe; which was
more sprouting than it; as it blissfully harnessed
each enlightening attribute of existence with its own
blood; reinforcing each bit of the gruesomely bad;
with the irrevocable thunderbolts of divine life,

There was no reflection born on this Universe; which
was more marvelous than it; as it consecrated even the
most lecherous bits of dilapidated ash; with the
unprecedented love lingering in its soul,

There was no magic born on this Universe; which was
more alluring than it; as it unbelievably spawned the
most intellectual of all organisms; to save the planet
from ghastly clutches of misery and stinking mice,

There was no panacea born on this Universe; which was
more effective than it; as it instilled rejuvenating
life in even those; well sunken in beneath their gory
graves and without the slightest trace of light,

There was no mission born on this Universe; which was
more fulfilling than it; as it accomplished the
greatest purpose of the Almighty; by immortally
continuing his sacred chapter of existence,

There was no current born on this Universe; which was
more vividly passionate than it; as it evolved a
complete life from just a capriciously changing
conglomerate of cells and space; rambunctiously
ensuring that there was not the tiniest of insinuation
of stillness or morbid malice,

There was no idea born on this Universe; which was
more incarcerating than it; as it still remained the
most fascinating mechanism of chiseling a perfect
organism; even in a world drowned abhorrently in
robotic prejudice,

There was no fashion on this Universe; which was more
versatile than it; as it acclimatized itself to the
most ferociously vacillating conditions; celestially
metamorphosing its intricate form; every now and
again; to blend with the cry of painstakingly
suffering humanity,

There was no gift on this Universe; which was more
precious than it; as it manifested every person’s
ultimate dream into a veritable reality; gave him a
reason to live with astronomical pride; even well past
his own times,

There was no longing on this Universe; which was more
ardent than it; as it triggered insatiable cloudbursts
of craving; for all those deplorably blind; to witness
their sole messiah with golden sight,

There was no line on this Universe; which was more
straighter than it; as it basked in the undefeatable
glory of candid honesty; diffusing the rays of a
fantastically optimistic tomorrow; as each day
persevering unraveled into the queenly night,

There was no boundary on this Universe; which was more
boundless than it; as it encompassed all merciful
living kind; in the heavenly pace that forever
enveloped its sparkling form,

There was no prayer on this Universe; which was more
revered than it; as it was a magical wand for
pioneering all forms and fraternities of vibrant life;
sowing the cherishable seeds of a symbiotic existence,


O! yes; it made you feel the most invincible entity on
this planet till the time you were in it; bequeathing
upon you an incomprehensible ardor to lead a countless
more lives; when you wonderfully came out,

It was the ultimate place that you belonged to on this
earth; the very reason that you were able to read and
I was able to fervently write until this line; the
only cradle which gave you life; the only cradle on
this globe which embraced you like an angel even after
your condemnable death; infact a place none other than
your own blood and signature; a place none other than
your MOTHERS WOMB…




(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Working wonders

 

The exuberantly rustling whirlpools of breeze; worked
stupendously miraculous wonders for the drearily
morose and lugubriously fretful tree,

The torrentially tumbling blankets of ecstatic rain;
worked unbelievably miraculous wonders for the
hoarsely traumatized landscapes of aridly sweltering
land,

The bountiful ocean of resplendent scent emanating
from the scarlet rose; worked unfathomably miraculous
wonders for the remorsefully forlorn atmosphere,

The meticulously synchronized tick-tocking of the
timeless clock; worked irrevocably miraculous wonders
for the invidiously sluggish and laggardly lazing,

The ferociously blazing rays of the Omnipotent Sun;
worked unprecedentedly miraculous wonders for the
disgustingly rotting and perniciously sinister
graveyard,

The rhythmical jingling of the innocuously shimmering
bells; worked astonishingly miraculous wonders for the
indefatigably wailing and disconcertingly skittish
child,

The melodiously everlasting sounds of the royally
crested nightingale; worked gloriously miraculously
wonders for the manipulatively besieged and bizarrely
monotonous corporate buffoon,
The entrenchment of celestially immaculate peace;
worked timelessly miraculous wonders for the
irrefutably pious and unrelentingly meditating saint,

The compassionate arms of perpetually amiable
friendship; worked spell bindingly miraculous wonders
for all those torturously orphaned from the very first
cry of vivacious birth,

The dexterously crafted canes of poignant red and
nimble white; worked incomprehensibly miraculous
wonders for the blind men crossing the boisterously
rambunctious and foolhardy street,

The ravishingly appetizing meals of salubriously
gratifying corn; worked unconquerably miraculous
wonders for the traumatically impoverished and
frantically trembling stomach,

The insurmountable titillation of the nubile
seductress’s footsteps; worked marvelously miraculous
wonders for the man deliberately trying to dig his own
corpse and without the most infinitesimal trace of
euphoria for vibrant life,

The harmoniously sacrosanct lap of the divinely
mother; worked unassailably miraculous wonders for the
freshly born and ebulliently frolicking child,

The poignantly profuse body of the fragrant
photograph; worked impregnably miraculous wonders for
the brutally devastated soul; which had nothing but
Omnisciently gregarious memories to survive on,

The sordidly decaying crevices of the morbidly
disappearing gutter; worked sensuously miraculous
wonders for mountain of abominably horrific and
menacingly stray parasites,

The dolorously sullen waters of the ghoulishly
stagnating pond; worked bountifully miraculous wonders
for the vividly enamoring and iridescently blooming
lotus flower,

The waves of unflinchingly embellished righteousness;
worked triumphantly miraculous wonders for the
indiscriminately massacred and salaciously smoldering
conscience,

The infernos of Omnipresently spawning and charismatic
breath; worked ubiquitously miraculous wonders for all
those innocent and diabolically whipped; at their very
last thresholds of abdicating existence,

And the immortally bonding rainbows of unshakable
love; worked perpetually miraculous wonders for the
salaciously betrayed and a heart throbbing sadly
without its pair of priceless beats…





(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved
 
 
<< Previous   Next >>