Rocking Chair Poem by Nikhil Parekh

Rocking Chair



When I sat on it exerting my full weight; it squealed inaudibly permeating the
stillness of atmosphere with feverish cacophony,
Nimbly revolving a few centimeters on the polished floor; eventually adjusting
disconcertingly to the situation.

When I poked it with a conglomerate of pointed needles; it let out silent gasps,
The upholstery was now embedded with a plethora of incongruous holes; although
I could still spread my legs on it and sit.

When I emptied a barrel of fuming acid on it; it got severely butchered and uncouthly ripped apart,
The spongy foam now buckled under the slightest of my caress; and people who
visited my cabin perceived it as a minor bomb blast.

When I tried standing erect on it swirling rampantly to blaring tunes diffusing from the CD systems; it initially complied with my desire,
Although after a while I found myself adhering to the opposite wall of the room; as it had inevitably skidded and flung me like a discarded heap.

When I incorrigibly refrained to clean it; letting hordes of dust settle on its persona,
I had to suffer unrelentingly from sporadic bouts of thunderous coughing; with
the minuscule particles entering my nose.

When I washed it with freezing water in winter castigating for disobeying my
command; it appeared forlorn and meek in the beginning,
However when the next day I entered my office; there was a derogatory odor
intensely hovering in the air; also I saw a fleet of termite gnawing the soft wood with overwhelming relish.

When I endeavored to emboss script on its body; it incessantly rotated and shook; bouncing with gay abundance on its springs,
Driving me wild beyond the threshold of definable frustration; and I finally gave up on my persevering effort.

When I kicked it in its rear; exerting tumultuous force with my bohemian feet,
It placidly lay down topsy-turvy several paces further; and I had scrupulously
make sure whether all parts were intact; before relaxing on it again.

When I tried incinerating it; submerging it wholesomely in my left over alcohol; it caught flames which rose high and handsome towards the sky,
All that was now left of it was charred ashes; which I consummately used to
sprinkle as manure over my plants.
But let me tell you folks; I had enjoyed it the most; supremely relished its
company for marathon hours on the trot,
When I swung it tenaciously to and fro; with my feet languidly sprawled on the table; my eyes partially closed; and my rocking chair virtually putting my into a mystical slumber.

Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: chair,victory
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Nikhil Parekh

Nikhil Parekh

Dehradun, India
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