Nikhil Parekh Poems

True satisfaction lies in feeding the devastatingly deprived; not in ruthlessly snatching the last morsel of food from their pathetically starved stomachs; just to tantalize your spuriously non-existent buds of baseless taste,

True satisfaction lies in educating the ludicrously illiterate; not in barbarically extricating their last iota of discerning consciousness; just to meaninglessly tingle the soles of your; sordidly treacherous feet,
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A poem is; an everlasting ocean of poignant empathy; that envelops you in winds of insatiable euphoria and tantalizingly rhapsodic caress,

A poem is; a marvelous compilation of majestic art; cascading like the most opulent river of happiness; in your times of morbidly murderous gloom,
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I preferred standing barechested under sweltering rays of the Sun; profusely basking in a pool of gloriously golden sweat,
Rather than rotting away like a piece of dilapidated dirt incarcerated well within the dungeons; in fear of how the world would look outside.

I preferred plunging intrepidly into the vindictive; valiantly clashing my sword in the supreme exultation of defending my priceless integrity,
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My eyes popped out in overwhelming exasperation; my sockets dancing restlessly on the floor,
My lips distorted themselves to incomprehensibly horrendous contours; biting themselves satanically as the moon blossomed to a perilously sinister glow,
My hair stood up like thunderbolts of stringent electricity; blazing fireballs of despondency towards the sky,
My fists curled into an insurmountably formidable punch; aching to thunderously batter arid wisps of breeze painstakingly blowing around,
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I could relinquish all my clothes this very moment; shiver hysterically as turbulent cloud covers of snow tumbled ferociously from the sky,

I could relinquish all my fantasies this very moment; stare in mockingly dumb ridicule towards abstruse bits of solitary air,
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Prejudiced are those who baselessly dramatize,
Majestic are those who voluptuously romanticize,
Cowardly are those who meaninglessly ostracize,
Marvelous are those who unrelentingly fantasize,
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At times a river of sensuously everlasting happiness; while at times an inexplicable thorn stabbing you with pints of traumatized anguish,

At times a mesmerizing cloud of blossoming prosperity; while at times an incorrigible impediment engendering you to preposterously stagger towards the aisles of hopelessness,
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12.0 Clock. A moment when the voluptuous seduction of ingratiating blackness; enshrouded each frazzled nerve of mine with silken sensuousness,

12.0 Clock. A moment when overwhelmingly enchanting melody; whispered a tale of profound mysticism in my frantically insane and bereaved ears,
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You could metamorphose into an impeccable saint; and then incessantly castigate it; for its salaciously treacherous and hideously ungainly intent,

You could step into the shoes of an immaculate angel; and then indefatigably rebuke it; for corrupting the fabric of the celestially blissful atmosphere,
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The greatest art was not in clambering unsurpassably coldblooded mountains; with overwhelmingly poignant and adroit precision; barefoot,

The greatest art was not in stupendously encapsulating the beauty of the fathomless cosmos; in threadbare sheets of barren paper; singlehandedly,
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