Nikhil Parekh Poems

The sweat that flowed when you killed; was like the orphaned wings of a parasitic leech; left to devastate on its own in this fathomless Universe,

The sweat that flowed when you lied; was like a lifeless skeleton suspended in non-existent air; pulverizing to inconspicuous ash; at the tiniest insinuation of drifting wind,
...

I would hate it if you called me an Indian; tracing my rudiments to an unfathomable myriad of customs and aboriginal traditions,

I would hate it if you called me a Russian; linked various stages of my life to stringent vodka; and exhilarating games of chess,
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The tributaries of horrendous starvation; culminate into despairing sadness,

The tributaries of heinous malice; culminate into perpetual hatred,
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Don't philosophize; just fantasize,
Don't cry; just create,
Don't beg; just bang,
Don't surrender; just smash,
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We might be two different breaths; but will continue to exist as one; rhapsodically relishing each moment of profoundly mystical life,

We might be two different mouths; but will continue to exist as one; singing till the last chord down our throat got exhausted; basking in the glory of the divinely atmosphere,
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When I was philandering through the despicably lugubrious dungeons; the beats of my heart were as remorseful as the miserably sulking snakes; lecherously crippling all my glorious desire to live,

When I was soaring like an angel amidst the vivaciously pungent clouds; the beats of my heart were as ecstatic as torrential thundershowers of silver rain; enshrouding every element of my persona with unfathomable happiness,
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I don't eat to live; I live to eat tantalizing morsels of exotic food; placate insurmountable pangs of my gluttony with the rudiments of captivating nature,

I don't smell to live; I live to smell to exotically redolent and vivaciously blooming flowers; dance with the fairies on the summits kissing the Moon,
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Come into my life with majestic earrings embellishing your Divinely earlobes; or step into its compassionate swirl without even a single cloth on your uncontrollably trembling body,
Come into my life with flamboyantly swanky cars entrenching you from all sides; or step into its resplendent garden without even a single shoe encapsulating your profusely bleeding feet,
Come into my life with voluptuously poignant mascara enveloping your ravishing eyelashes; or step into its tantalizing aroma without even the most inconspicuous
trace of light; lingering around your nimble eyes,
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State of the Art cars; to philander in; whistle past the ingratiatingly voluptuous countryside like a trice of a bullet,

State of the Art fabric; to compassionately entrench the shivering flesh of my body; gallivant in the most garishly pompous fashion; through contemporary city streets,
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Invincible; yet fabulously silken; ingratiatingly poignant; and charismatically brilliant,
Unparalleled; yet supremely satiny; melodiously celestial; and fathomlessly blissful,
Unsurpassable; yet delightfully rhapsodic; divinely feathery; and astoundingly compassionate,
Formidable; yet overwhelmingly profuse; serenely fantastic; and gloriously placating,
...