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Poems by nikhil parekh


"CAN THERE EXIST"

Can there exist rain without smoke grey clouds in the cosmos,
Can there exist desert without quintals of slippery sand,
Can there exist flower shrub without petal of vareigated color,
Can there exist winter without mercury dipping down below freezing,
Can there exist pure ivory without elephants trampling through the
forest,
Can there exist a cigarette without bitter leaves of venom tobacco,
Can there exist taste without minute buds flowering on fleshy tongue,
Can there exist a boat without oars firmly riveted to the sides,
Can there exist incessant wind without circular revolutions of the
motored fan,
Can there exist gold without tinges of passionate yellow,
Can there exist white pearls without symmetrically carved oyster shell,
Can there exist cinema halls without palacial expanse of the silver
screen,
Can there exist a perfect morning without melodious chirping of the
cuckoo,
Can there exist salt without sea water splashing on chains of mighty coal
rock,
Can there exist blood without pores of skin being punctured,
and can there exist thick lava without collisions in interior crevices of
earth,
Can there exist a lock without a key kissing articulate junctions of
proximity,
Can there exist finger nail coat without surplus fillings of powdered
calcium,
Can there exist mountain river without mass of water tumbling down at
tumultuous speeds,
Can there exist a church without jesus nailed to sandalwood cross,
Can there exist breath without nostrils embossing slimy mucus,
Can there exist a computer without a host of programmed microchips,
Can there exist aquatic fish without an ambience of luke warm water,
Can there exist an aircraft in space without a pair of steel wings,
Can there exist life without consumption of portable water,
Can there exist man on earth without traces of love he thoroughly
deserves.

©COPYRIGHT-2000, BY NIKHIL PAREKH




"9 MONTHS"

9 months of painstaking labour,
9 months of confinement in luke warm recesses of womb,
9 months of parasitic nourishment from mother food,
9 months of luxury cushioning in chambers of slime,
9 months of oblivion from vagaries of life,
9 months of proximity with rich mass of intestine,
9 months of blissful sleep sheltered from light,
9 months of swim in bountiful fluid encapsulating body,
9 months of gentle caress by her hands occasionally gliding over inflated
part of her belly,
9 months of complete suspension in elastic skin pouch,
9 months of developing skin and formation of calcium bone,
9 months of perpetual ecstasy moving tiny legs and hands,
9 months of incessant heat ensuring future health,
9 months of carrier comfort in preambulators of flesh,
9 months of pitch dark existence with blurred premonitions of beautiful
mother,
9 months of perspiration blending profusely with gastric juice,
9 months of anxious wait for an encounter with all living and created,
the time is up;multiple day wait seems concluded,
dazzling light of the sun blinds me in entirety,
compassionate soft hands of my mother raise me to the allmighty,
as i open my eyes;emit my first incoherent scream,
silencing worldly commotion with innocent cries of fresh birth.

©COPYRIGHT-2000, BY NIKHIL PAREKH





"I JUST WANT YOUR LOVE"

I didn't want the grandiloquent Taj mahal to live in,
A solitary hut with fortified walls would beautifully suffice.

I didn't want to drink chicory mugs of opulent cherry wine; A glass of holistic water was all I needed to
quench my thirst.

I didn't want ornate embellishments of cloth to drape my persona,
Jagged rags of jute; blended with firmly riveted buttons would work as a wonderful substitute.

I didn't want mesmerizing rhymes sung by the matron; in order to sleep,
The monotonous cacophony of vehicular traffic would prove to be an adept tranquilizer.

I didn't want flamboyant cars to traverse the grey carpet of roads,
The non-polluting; multiple spiked bicycle would help me maintain my circulation of blood.

I didn't want the silken floss of brush; to scrub the armory of my teeth,
Serrated sticks of medicinal neem; would render my palette with a ravishing scent all sunlit day.

I didn't want swim in the luxuriously sculptured; glistening water pool,
Instead I wanted to feel the exhilaration while trespassing through choppy waves of the saline ocean.

I didn't want to consume pasteurized milk; juxtaposed with flavored milk,
Fresh droplets of milk oozing from the teats of mother cow; was the one indispensable for my bones.

I didn't want to exorbitantly applauded by scores of innocuous individuals;
Benevolent prayers; from within deep recesses of their heart would be enough to make me ecstatic.

I didn't want artificial contrivance's to illuminate the atmosphere,
The dazzling light of sun; and enchanting beams of moon were fathomless to cherish.

I didn't want appetizing dishes of roasted almonds; with a slurry of processed butter,
Bountiful fruits dangling from the tree; and a plethora of succulent vegetable leaf would annihilate all
indigestion.

I didn't want the luminous dial of imported watch; wound tautly against my wrist,
The varied positions of sun god and changing patterns of light would give me an excellent idea of time.

I didn't want battalion of flowers to be laid for my reception,
An ambience bereft dust and debris; evacuated of wild thorn would be the enough to express gratitude.

I didn't want fat bundles of currency; with you dressed in ostentatious jewelry as my bride,
A rustically polished face; with a cluster of inexpensive flower in your hair; would pacify my heart,
As I would outrageously cry out in public and say 'I just want your perpetual love'.

COPYRIGHT-2000, BY NIKHIL PAREKH




"SHE WILL HAVE TO STAY ALIVE"

She will have to laugh with pungent raptures of melody,
She will have to cry with effusive sobs of unsolicited hysteria,
She will have to nimbly dance to acrobatic leaps of the skipping rope,
She will have to crunch raw slices of blood red radish with arduous zeal,
She will have to walk upright in blistering currents of austere sun god,
She will have to smear her forehead with sacrosanct shades of vermilion,
She will have to adorn her dainty earlobe with jingling chains of white
silver,
She will have to bounce with resplendent euphoria at times of felicity,
She will have to kiss the satiny tendrils of fragrant rose at the diffusion
of dawn,
She will have to submerge her silhouette in salty waves of the ocean,
She will have to consume cupid mouthfuls of chocolate candy floss,
She will have to knead colossal masses of spongy dough to prepare
appetizing sundries,
She will have to emboss mascara on her eyes; shielding them with traditional
grace,
She will have to bathe with sheer nostalgia in pelting showers of monsoon
rain,
She will have to sing in a voice replicating mesmerizing tunes of the
nightingale,
She will have to perspire like a bull; while making indispensable attempts
to clean the house,
She will have to break into guffaws of uninhibited laughter; when witnessing
an authentic clown,
She will have to pen down enchanting lines of calligraphy; depicting rustic
civilisations,
She will have to ride like a professional; on striped bare back of
thoroughbred stallion,
She will have to decipher enigmatic puzzles in life; inevitable for
survival,
She will have to sleep like an angel all throughout the perilous night,
She will have to slog in the monotonous light of the diurnal day,
I would excuse her even if she failed to execute all of the above mentioned,
If only she kept herself alive for centuries unprecedented; for me to love
on this earth.

©2000, BY NIKHIL PAREKH





"IN THE NEXT BIRTH"

If I acquired the menacing form of an alligator in the next birth,
I would want you to cling tightly to my persona as my serrated green
skin.

If I were born in the ominous form of a jungle tiger in the next birth,
I would you to be incorporated in my body as my domineeringly
authoritative
growl.

If I was born as a densely foliated tree in the next birth,
I would want you to be the perennial leaves that emanated from my
silhouette.

If I was born as an opalescent fish in the next birth,
I would want you to be saline water in which I could sustain life and
swim.

If I was born as the twin horned sacrosanct cow in the next birth,
I would inevitably desire you as the milk I would diffuse from my
flaccid
teats.

If I was born as a slithering reptile in the next birth,
I would want you to be the lethal venom I possessed in my triangular
fangs.

If I was born as an obnoxious donkey in the next birth,
I would want you to be my hooves which swished indiscriminately at
innocuous
trespassers.

If I was born as perpetually blind in the next birth,
I would indispensably want you to be my eyes to guide me towards
dazzling
light.

If I was born as being disdainfully maim; bereft of feet in the next
birth,
I would incorrigibly want you to be my legs to ecstatically leap in
times
of jubilation.

If I was born as a rustic spider with a battalion of arms in the next
birth,
I would want you to be mesmerizing threads of the silken web which I
inhabited night and day.

If I was born as an inconspicuous mosquito in the next birth,
I would want you to be the sting existing in my bifurcated tentacles.

If I was born as an agglomerate of sinister clouds in the next birth,
I would want you to be pelting sheets of rain tumbling down on the
scorched
ground.

If I was born as a traditional dancer in the next birth,
I would desire you to be the jingling chains riveted to my anklets.

If I was born as a voluptuous chameleon in the next birth,
I would want you to be the band of colors that I changed according to my
habitat.

If I was born as a scintillating oyster in the next birth,
I would want you as the jugglery of immaculate pearls impregnated in my
belly.

If I was born as a solitary camel in the blistering heat of desert,
I would inevitably desire you as barrels of pellucid water to placate my
thirst.

If I was born as drummer performing at concerts in the next birth,
I would want you as the drum which would be essential for the sound to
propagate.

If I was born as the most opulent on the globe in the next birth,
I would intractably want you as the notes of currency; which I possessed
in
exorbitant capacity.

If I was born as infinite blades of emerald grass in the next birth,
I would want you to be the fertile land mass of soil to provide me
tumultuous loads of nutrition.

If I was born as the frivolous monkey in the next birth,
I would want you to be my claws; facilitating me to clasp tree branches
in a
vise like grip.

If I was born as an ambivalent filmmaker in the next birth,
I would want you to be every film that I directed in my reigning tenure.

If I was born as an indigenous woman in the next birth,
I would overwhelmingly desire you as the contemporary man from the city.

And if by the stroke of chivalrous fortune; I was born as a man again in
the
next birth,
I would want you to be the same girl; whom I loved immensely today;
existing
on this earth.

©COPYRIGHT-2000, BY NIKHIL PAREKH





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Biographical sketch: i am nikhil anand parekh, 23 years of age and residing on the sacrosanct soil of
indian land, to compose and give shape to words is my overwhelming passion, and till date i have a gargantuan collection of 400 poems to my credit, several of them which have been published at prestigious sites such as the creativenue.com, poetry.com, dovecottage.com, betterkarma.com.... a plethora of them have also achieved the accolade of being published in several anthologies, although i yet await to find a conducive publisher who can publish the entire compendium which i possess, and help me generate some funds to sustain monotonous life....

nikhil parekh recommends:

"ABOVE THE RIVER" by JAMES WRIGHT

Reason: the lucidity and the precision, blended with the extraordinary ability to portray a plehtora of emotions so magnificently is what makes it so special....

Recommendations for writers:

this is my philanthropic appeal to all those at the everypoet.com, and whosoever comes across my page, have a kind heart, a noble disposition, i know this sounds very surreal in todays acerbic and acrimonious world, but the outcome and aftermath of such behaviour is always good, and u'll see it for yourself, how very celestial and blessed you feel after doing the same, all of us who take air in our lungs have a cause defined to live, and in the quest for accomplishing this cause, we should exhibit an egalitarian attitude towards all we come in proximity.......


 


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