Nikhil Parekh Poems

i wore spiked shoe with projecting porcupine thorn,
tread on the brittle surface of the frozen lake,
breaking the harmony of the agglutinated chunks of ice.
...

I stood for marathon hours under the blistering Sun; accomplishing a battalion
of tasks with the arid breeze slapping my cheek,
When I came back home; I instantly pacified my insatiable thirst consuming a
glass of cold water.
...

A writer without a pen; is like a dog deprived of its magnanimously furry tail,
A writer without a pen; is like the jungle woodpecker without a beak,
A writer without a pen; is like a musician without a melodious voice,
A writer without a pen; is like a cluster of fish deprived of saline water,
...

The race horse inexorably needed red radish; with succulent green leaves,
Before he could fall into a slumber; rest his tired body with paltry hours of
nocturnal sleep.
...

I wanted to flood barren sheets of paper with infinite lines of embossed literature,
I wanted to flood the sprawling lands of desert with awesome amounts of slippery sand,
I wanted to flood the dry beds of the seasonal river with lots of fresh water,
I wanted to flood crystalline blue patches of the bald sky with diabolically grey clouds,
...

I buried myself deep into an island of loose sand; sprawled in abundance on the solitary street,
Warm moisture clinging to mud; like the vise like grip of a mother,
Blended profusely with an agglomerate of loose stone and fish shell,
Perspiring voraciously in the sweltering heat of the stringent day,
...

I had a cavalcade of ostentatious cars following me every second; with melodious tunes emanating from the sleek music systems,
The upholstery was plush; the ambience was besieged with a pungent aroma of
wild scented flower,
Yet I felt lonely; as there was no one to hold my hand; make me frivolously smile.
...

The stray dog on the street had an inevitable instinct to wag its bushy tail
when ecstatic,
Garrulously bark at irate trespassers; who hurled irregular stones at its shriveled persona.
...

I wanted to be your tenacious palms; when you wanted to climb the steep mountain,
I wanted to be your intricate eyes; when you desired to browse speedily through condensed literature,
I wanted to be your formidable teeth; when you wanted to passionately chew hard chunks of sugarcane,
I wanted to be your feet; when you felt exhausted; with marathon distances yet to be covered,
...

Life without a purpose; is like a luxury liner maneuvering wildly through the ocean without a rudder,
Life without a purpose; is like a creeper growing up tall without a brick wall for support,
Life without a purpose; is like a aircraft flying high in the sky without a skilled captain,
Life without a purpose; is like an unruly classroom without a learned teacher,
...