Hide and Seek – part 3 – Rhyming & Non Rhyming Poems

Hide and Seek – part 3 – Rhyming & Non Rhyming Poems

A Poem by Nikhil Parekh
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This Book which has 50 differently titled Poems , is actually part 3 of the Book titled – Hide and Seek – Rhyming & Non Rhyming Poems ( 702 pages ) .

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[ Note - Currently I seek a traditional publisher for the publication of my above mentioned Book , in the Print form . Published here ; is this Poetry Collection of mine in its entirety , alongwith the differently titled Poems contained in the Book . As of the present moment ; 47 of my Books are available for purchase in the eBook format from Amazon.com Kindle Store United States at - amazon.com/author/nikhilparekh . My style of Poetry / literature is unique and has never ever been written before or experimented on the mortal planet by any mortal , though my Poetry / literature is normal and natural . GOD'S grace on me . i am nothing infront of GOD . i am nothing infront of GOD'S holy messengers . So any victorious publisher who may want to publish my Poetry in Paperback without Financial Expenditure to me , can directly communicate with me at the address , [email protected] or [email protected] ] . I am Nikhil Parekh , ( born 27 August , 1977 ) , poet and author from Ahmedabad , India . I am also a 10 - Time National Record holder for my Poetry with the Limca Book of Records India , limcabookofrecords.in - which is India's Best Book of Records , Ranked 2nd in the World officially to Guinness Book of World Records . You can visit me at - nikhilparekh.org ; to browse my Poetry on GOD , Peace , Love , Anti Terrorism , Friendship , Life , Death , Environment, Wildlife , Mother , Father , Children , Parenthood , Humanity , Social Cause , Women empowerment , Poverty , Lovers , Brotherhood - at this website you can also browse my varied Books , my awards and my National records in Poetry .

Copyright © by Nikhil Parekh

All rights reserved. No Part of this book publications may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, Electronic, Mechanical, Photocopying, Recording, Print or otherwise, without prior permission of Copyright owner and Author, Nikhil Parekh.

About The Poetry Book

Parekh's earliest collection of verse. Written in unparallelled fervor, this collection is a delectable blend of topics from love to death, probing into countless infinitesimal aspects of existence which make a significant impact to it. The beauty of this compendium lies in its magical brevity at places and in the most mundane things of life around us brought to the fore like a magicians wand, in brilliant poetic flair by Parekh. Contains poems on topics impossible for one to envisage that a poem could be written about such an inconspicuous little thing-but Parekh evolves bountiful rhyme from the word go and coalesces vivacious color in the little tid-bits of the chapter called life to optimum effect. A must read for all those who find color, charm and significance in even the smallest things of life and are enthused by even the most mercurial bit of stray paper loitering around. A poetic tribute to the ordinary, projecting its colorful extraordinary bit to the planet with raw panache.

This book tingles every living being's imagination to fantasize beyond the ordinary. Look at all those meaningful tid-bits around us which have a complete book written in each one of them. All those joyous and unfortunate anecdotes around us which make us blossom into the true spirit of existence; into the amazing celebration of omnipotent life.

CONTENTS

1. THE INNER VOICE OF MIND
2. VEHICULAR RUBBER
3. IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE
4. IT WAS NICE
5. TRACES OF ADULTERATION
6. TORTURE
7. I WAS NOT GOD
8. JEALOUSY
9. FORTUNE STRIKES IN THE DESERT
10. KLEPTOMANIA
11. ICY DEATH
12. SCHOOL LABORATORY
13. LEAVES
14. LETS LEAVE IT TO THE CREATOR
15. TO BE HANGED TILL DEATH
16. BROKEN BONDS
17. SHALL WE
18. THE MAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
19. THE MAN,THE ORPHAN,THE DIE HARD LADY
20. MEDICINE MAGIC
21. THE TITANIC
22. MOTHERS
23. ROUTE TO EXAMINATIONS
24. MY FRIEND
25. COLD SODA DRINK
26. NAILS
27. NAKED EYES
28. A DANCE IN LUXURY COTTON
29. THE SCIENTIST
30. THIRST
31. NOODLES
32. OCEAN OF DREAMS
33. ON A HOLIDAY
34. ON MY DAY
35. A PALACE OF DREAMS
36. PERCEPTION OF A JUNGLE
37. PERILS OF OLD AGE
38. PIPES
39. A PITCHER FULL OF GOLD
40. YELLOW BEAMS OF SUNLIGHT
41. THERE WAS A TIME
42. PLEASE
43. POND OF WATER
44. THE POWER OF MY LOVE
45. PRE-REQUISITE'S
46. PROUD INHERITANCE
47. RED ANT POWER
48. THE RUBBER MAN
49. FREE SALIVA
50. THE SCARY TARANTULA

1. THE INNER VOICE OF MIND

I thought of swimming in the sparkling waters of the lake,
the inner voice of mind held me back saying,
deathly green waters will suck you deep within the point of no return.

i mused on skiing down the ice clad mountain,
the inner voice of mind refrained me from doing so,
as mighty avalanches of snow would strangulate me,
burying me a few feet beneath the frozen coat of spring water.

i pondered on penning a few lines of composition,
the inner voice of mind made strong inroads of denial,
saying that the carbon ink was sure to leak,
creating embarrassed smudges on the flawless sheet of paper.

i speculated on investing in the stock market,
the inner voice of mind guffawed in pools of laughter,
admonishing me from proceeding forward,
as the entire index would collapse within seconds of my investment.

i visualized gulping large barrels of tropical coconut water,
the inner voice of mind stringently halted my stream of fantasy thought,
reinforcing my mind with obnoxious visions of the water containing traces of
snake poison.

i perceived of spending my life with the person who loved me,
as usual the inner voice of mind prompted me to alter my course of action,
acquainting me of the dire consequences likely to follow,
this time though beats of my heart were stronger than tunes of mind,
facilitating me to work antagonistic to the mind,
execute a perception into pragmatic reality,
despite the precarious influence of inner voice of mind.

2. VEHICULAR RUBBER

the inflated swell of vehicular rubber,
with soft rectangular indentations,
help captive in circular hollow of the tyre,
traverses speedily along well binded metallic roads,
crushing dried leaves, trampling unkempt wild weeds,
fixed and stuck to metallic plates,
with radiating spikes, midget spokes of steel,
maneuvering sharply across barren concrete landscape,
with deft strokes to the driving wheel,
firm slanted pressure to the compressible gas pedal,
and coherent articulate movement of the gear shift
machinery,
the tyre treads race through wet mud roads,
leaving behind trails of woven patterns,
resembling dead sticks of unconsumed sugarcane,
a sudden whirring noise encapsulates the atmosphere,
as tonnes of dust blow,
silencing the crux of exuberant activity,
brakes wailing in cacophonic unison,
tyre chunks bleeding against mass of hardened mud,
creating asymmetrical rings of disdainful dust,
the main culprit being,
a cluster of metallic pins, in hot agony,
strewn in savage random proportions,
waiting to trap innocent preys of vehicular rubber,
inserting themselves into thickened rubber flesh,
squeezing out macro plumage of air mass, a
rendering the spongy sheath of solidified rubber,
into distorted piles of mangled junk.

3. IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE

It was impossible to inhale air without twin bifurcation of nostrils,
sustain life with nonchalant ease; for more than an wholesome minute.

it was impossible to walk without angularly sculptured legs,
viciously kick grey boulders of stone; acting as barricade's in unveiling path.

it was impossible to scribble literature without articulate synchronization of hands,
emboss exquisite lines of calligraphy on naked sheets of bond paper.

it was impossible to segregate minuscule threads of color without immaculate vision,
distinguish between the good and gruesomely bad; lurking on this earth.

it was impossible to decimate food into supple chowder; without strong teeth,
produce gregarious smiles in tandem; when frivolously appreciated.

it was impossible to secrete saliva without rosy pink organ of tongue,
rebuke people with loads of spit; in response to their uncouth deeds.

it was impossible to uproot concrete edifices with bare hands,
amalgamate sapphire arenas of sky with the periphery of monotonous earth.

it was impossible to operate the hi-tech computer without a plethora of
software chips,
type a battalion of literature at swashbuckling speeds.

it was impossible to quench thirst without gallons of fresh water,
assassinate intractable blotches of dirt; agglutinated to clean cloth.

it was impossible to die without abrupt closure of tangible heart beat,
infinite cells of animation; freezing in the body.

and it was impossible to live without loving a person in heart; body; and spirit,
dedicating marathon hours in life; harnessing that perpetual affinity.

4. IT WAS NICE

It was nice fondling silken curls of your mesmerizing hair,
it was nice drenching your persona in icy cool pints of jungle water,
it was nice tickling your ear with serrated feather of protuberant crested pigeon,
it was nice painting your cheek with shades of resplendent color,
it was nice hoisting you several floors above the ground on my shoulder,
it was nice blowing puffs of tingling breath in your crystalline eyes,
it was nice feeding your voluptuous mouth; with slices of fresh pineapple,
it was nice embossing preambles of fathomless love in your heart,
it was nice provoking you to pugnacious realms of anger;witnessing your acrimonious face,
it was nice guiding you past the congested street;clasping your hands in mine,
it was nice slapping you in intense indignation; succeeded by passionate kisses,
it was nice swimming with you through waters of the choppy ocean,
it was nice draping you in grandiloquent floss of silk; staring at you for hours immemorial,
it was nice camouflaging your profusely bleeding wounds; with strips of my holistic skin,
it was nice obliterating you from acrimonious beams of light; with my web of scalp hair,
it was nice instigating you into ludicrous laughter; observing mystical outlines of
your teeth,
it was nice helping you a accomplish a plethora of household task; prepare sumptuous tea for you at dusk,
it was nice recounting enchanting fantasies; incorporating your fragile brain with tumultuous strength,
it was nice uttering your captivating name every unveiling minute of the day,
it was nice iterating my omnipotent love to you all day,
it was nice pestering you to go to sleep; cuddled like a fairy beneath a golden quilt,
but let me tell you sweetheart it would be nicer still ;if you were to be my lover,
for countless births we traverse on this earth as philanthropic humans.

5. TRACES OF ADULTERATION

Floating specks of dirt occupied drinking water,
paltry amounts of venom seemed abundant in gelatin capsule,
the tribal liquor had extracts of sedative nicotine,
sliding door of luxury car contained an impurity of threadbare plastic,
polished chunks of pure marble had reinforcements of loose mud,
rich granules of food grain were blended with sharp glass and stone,
navy blue solution of carbon ink was filled partially with chalk,
glossy sheets of milled paper possessed tinges of raw jute,
100 percent mixture of concrete had mammoth amounts of burnt brick,
gallons of consumable milk was adulterated with tap water,
finely ironed currency note lived in harmony with its fake counterpart,
natural sea water developed traces of oil and thick grease,
round biscuits of gold reflected sparse territories of faded bronze,
meticulously printed ancient literature was remixed to music album,
fertile clay mud resembled a vast assemblage of strewn insecticide,
winter caves with drooping icicles were displayed in exhibitions,
plastic exteriors of the monsoon raincoat had invisible patches of colored cloth,
a cluster of hybrid mango tasted like acid when dissolved in salivary bud,
there was inflation prevalent in all quarters of global society,
the only thing it was unable to imprison,
was the heart pumping at full speeds, nestling in chamber rooms of true conscience.

6. TORTURE

They made me sit on ugly bare current chair,
clasped my hands with rusty iron wire,
strangled my neck with metal plaster,
dragged my feet in boiling effluent,
tore my scalp with steel toothed combs,
pierced my nail in halves with knife,
coated my face with acidic tar,
broke my nose with gruesome fist blows,
stitched my lips with needle and thread,
engraved designs on flesh with rusty pins,
severed bunch of veins with carpenter saw,
divested me of water for long hours,
enclosed my face in jute bags,
containing an army of African wild rat,
whipped me with leather skin dipped in salt curry,
unclothed me in the chilly night,
sprayed obnoxious petrol with large hosepipes,
punctured my features to look like a ghost,
left me hanging in dangling chains,
in dilapidated comforts of crumbling roof,
i then lost faith in the reigning creator,
who put blood in my flesh, pumped oxygen in my chest,
which now converted into complete shambles,
agony groans echoing through walls of confinement,
my eyes finally closed in submission,
ending the ordeal, sealing bleeding pores of my body.

7. I WAS NOT GOD

I wanted to be like the opalescent flame of the wax candle,
Which burnt unrelentingly; even when caressed by wild draughts of wind.

I wanted to be like the sheet of pellucid glass,
Which didn’t diffuse into splinters; even on deafening collision with obdurate ground.

I wanted to be like the tall and majestic edifice,
Which stood like an immaculate angel; even after bearing the brunt of flood and crimson fire.

I wanted to be like the turbulently moving silver sedan,
Clambering steep slopes of the treacherous terrain; with exorbitant ease.

I wanted to be like the aircraft with twin pairs of ivory wings,
That hovered high in the sky for times immemorial; bereft of life yielding fuel.

I wanted to be like the ship clad in sheets of fortified iron,
Which refrained from sinking; even when attacked by a battalion of blue whale.

I wanted to be like the succulent leaf on the maple tree,
Which remained blissfully green; even when its counterparts withered to the
tyranny of autumn heat.

I wanted to be like the glittering spires of the century old Temple,
Which didn’t show signs of rust; even after marathon years of construction.

I wanted to be like the steaming brown filter coffee,
Which never got stale and cold; even after being exposed to the monotony of atmosphere.

I wanted to be like dazzling light rays of the day,
Which were never obliterated by shadow; fumigating the evil residing in distant corners of globe.

I wanted to be like the cloud showers of torrential rain;
Which ceased to stop; even when the amber ball of Sun crept up in the sky.

I wanted to be like the articulately molded skeleton key;
That bludgeoned its way; through the most obstinate of lock.

I wanted to be like the saline waters of colossal sea,
Which never evaporated; even when subjected to overwhelming heat.

I wanted to be like the coherently synchronized versatile robot,
Which executed tasks to meticulous perfection; even in times of bizarre catastrophe.

I wanted to lead life on the soil of mystical earth,
As the strongest being ever encountered; with unfathomable capacity of brain.

The very next instant; the creator robbed me of indispensable breath,
Making me realize wasn’t god; not even fraction of his celestial reflection,
As I left for my heavenly abode; to sleep peacefully in the arms of the Almighty.

8. JEALOUSY

The opalescent moon was jealous of the flaming Sun,
as the former provided dazzling light; with Herculean amounts of comfort in the day.

the desolate piece of stone was jealous of the colossal mountain,
as it was minuscule in size; often kicked contemptuously by ongoing people.

the perennial jungle river was jealous of the denim blue ocean,
as it was unable to bear the weight of titanic ships; as its counterpart was
able to do with nonchalant ease.

the century old typewriter was jealous of the hi-tech gizmo of computer,
as it was bereft of sparkling chips of memory; considered as outdated by the
youthful chunk of contemporary society.

sapphire blue patches in the sky were jealous of blotted grey clouds,
as they simply didn’t have the capacity of blessing the earth with pelting showers of rain.

the ever reliable twin pedaled bicycle was jealous of motorized cars,
as it was divested of powers to transgress beyond extreme speed limits.

the evanescent flames of candlelight were jealous of the ceiling bulb,
as they weren't blessed with the prowess of illuminating acres of pitch dark night.

large jerry-cans of fruit juice were jealous of pure water,
as they stumbled to quench thirst; the mystical way water did.

frigid strands of grey hair were jealous of bulky floss of glistening black,
as they highlighted the old and feeble; which was not even shades nearer to the flamboyant young.

the decade old tortoise was jealous of the aquatic fish,
as it simply couldn't walk fast; perching in its claustrophobic shell all Sunlit day.

undulating moulds of clay were jealous of smooth carpets of road,
as they flunked miserably to impersonate the charisma produced by flat land.

hard slices of bacterial bread were jealous of the chocolate cake blended with plums,
as they lacked the ingredients to deliver appetizing taste.

shiny denominations of coin were jealous of exorbitant currency notes,
as they were maltreated; being stashed in dingy compartments of purse.

the honey colored nimble deer was jealous of the menacing striped panther,
as it was overwhelmingly defeated in its attempts of being crowned the king of jungle.

black complexioned individuals were jealous of their fairer counterparts,
as they were gazed down upon as inferiors; with racial discrimination plaguing them for majority of their lives.

while i was intractably jealous of the boy next door,
who made unscrupulous advances to the girl i loved,
initiating me to stand like a pillar; between her immaculate heart,
and the demonic glare he unleashed intransigently riveted on her persona.

9. FORTUNE STRIKES IN THE DESERT

Volumes of slippery sand escaped from my fist,
parched silver mud devoured me in entirety,
flaming Sunlight stripped reserve quota of energy,
entangled thorny weeds scraped delicate layers of soft skin,
whirlpools of dust blew with turbulent velocity,
strong rooms of blue sky were bereft of moisture laden cloud,
trapped molecules of mercury rose high in compact case of thermometer,
green cover of grass and tree was a rare treat to witness,
large reptiles burrowed themselves in moist recesses of earth,
evil eyed vultures glided across boiling currents of wind,
grandfather tortoise traversed at painstaking speeds,
pot bellied spiders ran in gay abundance,
distant mirage's lured me to add velocity to stride,
undulating terrains of hot sand grain whipped me,
burning heat waves prompted me to melt in submission.

the situation was getting out of control,
secret reserves of stored water were drained with the passing second,
scalp hair were camouflaged with gallons of sand,
my slimy tongue had consumed remnant saliva,
twin pair of feet blatantly refused to hold my weight,
a river of sweat flowed down my armpit,
there was not a soul to be sighted within a million kilometers of vicinity,
when suddenly it seemed my feet struck a light green cactus,
infinite droplets of water oozed out,
charred chords of my throat erupted in wet ecstasy,
guttural sounds emanated as i sipped cool water,
as i deftly chiseled elastic branches of the desert cactus,
with razor sharp edges of my portable knife.

10. KLEPTOMANIA

He had fanatic obsessions for bulging trouser pockets,
overloaded sockets of office shirt,
silver chains fitted neatly to periphery of neck,
all kinds of heavy purse dangling from shoulder bone,
jeweled rings adorning daintily curved fingers,
beads of slim gold riveted firmly to ear lobe,
portable briefcase bags carried by executive staff,
bronze plated ribbons holding a bunch of hair,
he was a maniac patrolling through the busy city streets,
sighting stashed trouser shelves with his hawk sharp eyes,
waiting to capsize on every stealing opportunity that came his way.

the passenger ahead had protruding pockets,
a short thick neck flooded with precious ornament,
he looked like a prince waiting for the bus,
with gold rimmed glasses nestling on his thin nose.

the maniac couldn’t resist any longer,
long hours of wait had tantalized burglar zones of his mind,
saliva dribbled from his mouth in plenty,
his eyes lit up like briquette's of burning coal,
sly smiles encompassed wide corners of his mouth,
professional fingers now moved stealthily,
maneuvered skillfully caressing bulging outlines of the pocket,
few swipes with cheap blade finished the job,
the passenger now felt light as he alighted the bus,
great chunks of his wealth now lay in cold hands of the maniac,
all he was left to confront was a big gaping hole,
torn threads emanating from infinite regions of the stripped pant pocket.

11. ICY DEATH

Snow drops fall incessantly,
cloud mass turns blacker in complexion,
as the sun sleeps in cosmic rays of galaxy.
avalanche of ice descends down the slope,
tumbling fast with violent draughts of Swiss wind,
growing larger with every coat of frozen ice,
passing tall Christmas pine,
projecting tracks of ice rail,
hollow caves of mountain bear,
finally reaches lonely stretch of desolate road,
breaking into scattered mass of icy platelets,
diffusing with an echoed thud,
on instants of land contact,
obscuring a furlong of visible concrete,
into multiple bed sheets of frozen water.
i stare in delight from my cottage window,
witnessing the encounter of snow and land,
drag myself into a atmosphere of death cold,
clad in heavy scarf and coat,
with Dunlop plugs embedded in both ears,
gum boots plodding vehemently,
forming triangular treads in crusts of snow,
and cylindrical torch light clearing the smog,
filtering a beam of welcome light,
as i stealthily approach the mound of ice,
make a silent prayer,
take fistfuls of snow in cupped hands,
devour it down my throat,
numbing and choking branched arteries,
slowing down metabolic rates of my body,
imprisoning my heart with a vice like grip.
deathly pall embraces my face,
my legs tremble to hold my weight,
as i finally bid adieu to this world.

12. SCHOOL LABORATORY

Steaming hot acid in glass crucibles,
stone slabs of individual apparatus,
labeled conical flasks with neutral bases,
glass cupboards full of performance journals,
hi-tech microscopes for analysis,
round jars of swimming flower roots,
specimens of algae, rats, and dead frog,
black full-scale charts of chromosome study,
programmed calculators strewn in fluorescent light,
electric meters with voltage fluctuating,
dangling copper wires for connection,
sharpened lead for sketching designs,
steel spheres suspended from oscillating threads,
cross ventilation for absorbing fumes,
mega dissection boxes with scientific artillery,
shaving blades for tearing root,
round the clock botanical demonstrations,
high powered glare bulbs,
bountiful samples of colored compounds,
thickened glass fish aquarium,
shining granite holding multiple computers,
with a host of modern software chips,
black canes of adjudicating supervisors,
ready to slash at instants of wrongdoing,
lavatories blended with pungent antiseptic,
with germicidal tablets of white carbolic,
collapsible springs attached to bar magnets,
the window overlooking bare bricks of school entrance,
projecting from dizzy heights of clock tower,
with blue apron adorning my stature,
a compulsory must during practical hours,
is a first hand discription of my school laboratory.

13. LEAVES

When i burnt medicinal leaves of wild grass in a cauldron,
blending them with sizeable amounts of rusty brown tea powder,
adding paltry pinches of saccharine to the syrup,
stirred vigorously the concoction with an inflated wooden batten,
the outcome was scintillatingly delicious tea; which i sipped with profound contentment.

when i torched a conglomerate of dead tree leaves,
scorching them with somber sticks of lead match and paraffin wax,
there was a crackling fire that swayed with the breeze,
with menacing flames; making futile attempts to lick the sky,
offering me fountains of compassionate warmth;
sublimating my energy from shivers to blissful sleep.

when i ignited a cluster of rustic cowdung cakes,
occasionally probing the fetid slurry with my big toe,
there were delectable puffs of smoke that originated,
i then aligned a frying pan at right angles to the conflagration,
and roasted for myself a sumptuous meal of baked corn coated with salted herring.

when i set ablaze acres of farmland sprawled with ripened nose buds of tobacco,
submerging the entire region with an ocean of stringent kerosene,
the atmosphere was engulfed with a noxious odour of charred cigarette,
hurricanes of venomous wind annihilated palpable organisms in the vicinity.

and when i burnt infinite leaves of my immaculate heart,
there was a mystical aroma that imprisoned the ambience,
it was a smell that portrayed sacrosanct love,
it was an insatiable odour of her mesmerizing soul thoroughly entwined in mine.

14. LETS LEAVE IT TO THE CREATOR

If someone slapped me with swashbuckling strokes of fingers,
i would retort back a volley of praise to pacify his nerves.

if someone vomited loads of spit on my persona,
i would blend it with my precious blood before returning the same to him.

if someone splashed my exteriors with pails of fuming acid,
i would offer him a large pitcher full of sweet mountain water.

if someone blended sizeable amounts of snake venom in my food,
i would sprinkle sacred ash on his hair, paint his forehead with golden vermilion.

if someone left a battalion of red ant on my bare flesh,
i would offer him a articulately carved oysters containing a plethora of pearls.

if someone rode on my back unrelentingly whipping my skin,
i would carry his load even through arduous spells of steaming summer.

if someone pinched dainty regions of my flesh amidst an ambience of dignitaries,
i would embrace him with open arms pardoning his disdainful deeds.

if someone tripped me midway, left me squirming facedown on the ground,
i would simply wipe the blotches of dust from creases of my attire.

if someone made me lick the mud on road with corrugated flesh of my tongue,
i would reward him with biscuits of bonded gold.

if someone punctured transparent marbles in my eye rendering me blind,
i would bless him with infinite pairs of eyes to envisage perils lurking towards him.

if someone left me unequipped in savage jungles of the African valley,
i would smile all the way treading across den's of striped panthers.

c'mon folks lets be ardently realistic,
the above actions can be replicated by none other than God,
having divine powers to forgive the most heinous of atrocity,
the magnanimous prowess of blessing all animate existing:
we as a bunch of fallible humans would have onerous difficulty in duplicating the Creator,
some tasks are better left to him, rather than accomplishing them ourselves.

15. TO BE HANGED TILL DEATH

Knotted chords of jute dangle from ceiling,
with large throat sized loop hole,
engulfed in perennial pitch darkness,
freezing cold bare stone walls,
a battalion of mosquitoes hovering around,
bone skeletons partially stuck to floor,
ghastly designs portraying execution,
clouds of dirt, with a backdrop of blood,
the ambience was complete with long iron lever,
compressible at instants of death command.

the courtroom was packed with audience,
uniformed guards, fool proof security,
black coated lawyers, bespectacled judge,
the murderer was in a sandalwood kiosk,
tears oozing from eyes, lips painted with fresh blood,
a volley of arguments followed pursuit,
law professionals displayed tact and eloquence,
with the killer being invited to dilapidated gallows,
ruthlessly hung, with dark hood covering face,
an aftermath of justice ink printing,
to be hanged till death

16. BROKEN BONDS

If i forgot to tightly seal the projecting water tap,
gallons of liquid would dribble unrelentingly,
there would not be a solitary droplet of liquid in the overhead tank,
and my body would acquire an unwashed disposition all throughout the
sweltering day.

if i obdurately refrained from closing my mouth,
flooding the air with cacophonic webs of my husky voice,
intricate regions of my throat would divested of moisture,
causing me to cough and sputter when i needed my speech the most.

if i intentionally kept the fluorescent bulb on in the day,
with acerbic rays of sunlight filtering through my moistened eyes,
the contrivance would shatter to infinite splinters,
portraying a lackluster appearance when i desired it inevitably in the night.

if i heard deafening tunes of blaring music all day,
with the decibels ricocheting to supreme frequencies of intolerance,
my ears would get immune to the fragility of sound,
being paralyzed to decipher the melodious sound of nocturnal cuckoo.

if i consumed mighty barrels of milk; instead of crystalline water,
quenching irresistible pangs of thirst with pints of artificial milk,
my body would expurgate all the richness,
demanding the perennial gift of nature to be fed immediately.

and if i ran restlessly all stormy night,
without having a siesta in despicable heat of the day,
my legs would collapse midway on the bustling street,
transforming my persona into a temporary coma,
penalizing me just a fraction for breaking bonds with essential rudiments of nature.

17. SHALL WE

Shall we climb mount Everest,
rest in shady domains of tree foliage.

shall we eat spicy food coated with cheese,
remain awake till late hours of the night.

shall we laugh till stream of tears roll down our cheek,
splash our feet in gushing torrents of river water.

shall we make sandcastles in ocean sand,
gallop through paddy fields on strong race horse.

shall we play relishing games of card poker,
greedily gulp steaming brown coffee from mugs.

shall we drive through streets of the crowded city,
ring incessantly metallic bells of towering Church.

shall we scrub marble floors with wet sponge,
wash sins of past lives with our precious blood.

shall we talk on telephone for unsurpassable length of time,
watch us grow every unfolding minute of life.

shall we paint canvas with smudges of mixed color,
perspire together in scorching heat of unforgiving Sun.

shall we move our bodies to pulsating music,
serve humanity with all possible dedication and might.

shall we tear apart our hair in anger,
wade our way through artificial tunnels of ice.

shall we consume barrels of intoxicating wine,
get marooned in scarcely populated african jungle.

shall we fly high in gas balloons,
snap photographs of the mesmerizing moon.

shall we leap into dark death valleys,
stay united for many births as humans.

18. THE MAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH

The man in the photograph didn’t withdraw air from surrounding,
While I breathed several times a single minute.

The man in the photograph didn’t laugh at a hilarious joke,
While I burst into volleys of laughter at mention of the slightest satire.

The man in the photograph didn’t feel at all thirsty,
While I couldn’t suffice without water for more than an hour.

The man in the photograph wore an impeccable white shirt; devoid of creases,
While the garments that fitted my body were with blotches of stain and grease.

The man in the photograph didn’t budge a fraction of an inch,
While I tossed and turned with growing spurts of overwhelming restlessness.

The man in the photograph was clad in threadbare clothes even in chilly winter,
While I draped my persona with furry covers of pure sheepskin wool.

The man in the photograph never developed shabby stubble of beard,
While I shaved my skin scrupulously twice in a single day.

The man in the photograph didn’t sweat drops of pungent perspiration,
While I shed water from my armpits every unfolding second in the sun.

The man in the photograph didn’t sit for years on the trot,
While I needed to rest occasionally on the ergonomically sculptured leather pouch.

The man in the photograph didn’t expurgate his bowels,
While I made frequent journeys to the bathroom after devouring plum juice
and water.

The man in the photograph didn’t cough when tickled by pigeon feather,
While I erupted into an earth shattering sneeze when struck by cold.

The man in the photograph was holistically phlegmatic,
While I was full of volatile energy; ready to plunge into the sea of adventure.

The man in the photograph had black hair since times immemorial.
While I had acquired grizzly streaks of white with the onset of age.

The man in the photograph didn’t struggle to earn money,
While I worked at frantic pace to make my livelihood.

As a matter of fact; the man in the photograph had died decades ago,
And I was still living ;all set to change the complexion of this earth.

19. THE MAN,THE ORPHAN,THE DIE HARD LADY

The man was stripped of sight since he was born,
groping around his way in perpetual darkness as a kid,
shielding his dilapidated eye with thick wipers of charcoal black,
he rapidly learnt the art of deciphering protuberant Braille,
acquired a kingly accolade in contemporary art; being divested precious ingredients of vision indispensable to execute it.

the orphan was deprived of the ability to disentangle sound,
an aftermath of which he was oblivious to coherent speech,
there was however no massacring his zeal for life,
he decoded words through subtle movements of lips,
was a dedicated pioneer in onerous freedom struggle of his country,
refrained from portraying to the world; that he was deaf as a silent stone.

the lady in the slum possessed twin pairs of crippled feet,
bearing the brunt of irascible car wheels crushing her bones,
she now walked with tapered calipers of cheap cane,
although she had a heart embodied with philanthropic visions,
lending a helping hand to people suffering in miserable plight.

i wandered about jobless for several days,
bestowed upon with all tangible aspects of life,
punching the ground hard in inexplicable frustration looming large,
i then witnessed the lives of the abovementioned; utterly distraught yet ready to smile,
it was that very day that i felt lucky; and sumptuously blessed,
urged myself to laugh when i felt like sobbing; reminiscing memories of the man, the orphan, and the die hard lady.

20. MEDICINE MAGIC

Two compartments of soft gelatin plastic,
dissolvable in spit and glandular secretions,
dipped in thick grey brilliant dye,
compressed by steel jaws of modern machine,
functioning till wee hours of midnight,
with meticulous efficiency and robotized control,
producing miniature plastic at lightning speed,
causing the strips of plastic to overlap,
into tiny shells bouncing in dispatch jars,
incorporating milligram amounts of medicine powder,
having curative potential to eliminate ailments,
attacking virus, anemia, brain malfunction,
intractable woes of cancer&aids,
assassinating diseased outgrowths,
nestling in perennial supply of red blood,
targeting the heart of sickened behavior,
with mixed ingredients of sulphur, oxide, potassium,
and derivatives of molecular compounds,
procurable in a host of potency and cost,
from a franchise of licensed medical shops,
guaranteeing reprieve from invincible pain,
an effective way of ending misery,
decades of darkened existence,
masses of weakened body machinery,
gasps of insufficient contorted breath,
a savage killer of soaring body heat,
when taken with adequate amounts of water,
at regular intervals of the day,
is simply called and saluted as medicine magic

21. THE TITANIC

The sheets had never been slept on,
the china ware glittered like pure gold,
the blankets were of Persian wool,
the tables were built of solid teak,
the paintings were exquisitely sketched,
the brass handles had no smudges,
the mirrors shone in brilliant radiance,
the upholstery was ergonomically plush,
the boiler rooms were a bustle of feverish activity,
the clock tower had silver needles,
the auditorium echoed with catholic rhymes,
the first class chambers were somber sophistication,
the workers room flowed with beer and dance,
the lifts well oiled, carried people graciously,
the dinner room was full of flattery and rich cigar smoke,
the alarm bells were nailed to plaster,
there was a separate floor for grotesque prison cells,
the mammoth chimneys breathed grey smoke,
the warning check post stood the tallest of all,
the vintage car hung in pride,
the coarse cloth sails cut chilly currents of Atlantic,
the steel railings formed invincible periphery,
the captains room had maneuvering controls,
skilled manpower managed electric supply,
thousands of human sailed for two days of expedition,
existed in harmony,
in handsomely furnished cubicles,
with no scope for mice and dirt,
the ship was made of unsinkable iron,
a blend of grandeur, and majestic travel,
the strongest sailing monster on water,
creating history in ship hierarchy,
with its hull biting into frozen Atlantic waters,
it was a ship of dreams,
a ship of artistically carved glamour ,
with life boats suspended for mere formality,
and winged propellers marching through territories of water,
they called it the titanic

22. MOTHERS

When the golden eagle laid her eggs in pallid interiors of the jail prison,
in a pathetic ambience of torn spider web and wild rat,
the inmates wailing their woes at discordant tunes,
the obdurate periphery of snow white shells simply refrained from hatching,
the fledglings suffocated to death in the rudimentary
ocean of yolk and blood.

the gaudily striped magpie built her nest of raw twigs and grass,
nestling precariously on tall precipice of the mountain,
in which she delivered a festoon of small yellow eggs,
there suddenly came torrential rain pelting down,
the sky camouflaged with flashes of cold crimson red,
her precious pearls of palpable silver plummeted down the valley,
diffusing into infinite splinters after colliding with a chain of rock.

the long legged ostrich laid her king sized egg in soggy fields of paddy,
nurturing them with loads of compassion and motherly warmth,
slept in a tranquil bliss all throughout the monsoon night,
she wept in inconsolable grief, as first rays of dawn filtered past her eyes,
the babies were no longer hers, as they now lay safely impregnated,
within the slimy intestines of the slithering reptile.

the above mentioned were rare cases of callous mothers,
the premonitions i held for my mother were simply astounding,
she hailed from a godly pedigree of mammalian mothers,
guarded me against evil all night and blistering day,
caressed me in her arms yielding to my faint cries,
suckled me with milk, reinforcing my tender bones,
left me to wander on the soil of parasitic earth,
after i acquired a mountain of maturity blended with the spirit to live.

23. ROUTE TO EXAMINATIONS

I felt drowned in waves of pungent distraction,
as flickering images of the television flooded inert regions of my eye.

i felt possessed by gargantuan amounts of languid energy,
rolled on the spongy mattress placed on flat rosewood of my bed.

i felt strangulated by feckless obsessions draining reserve quota’s of energy,
as gallons of saliva leaked copiously from my mouth.

i felt submerged in violent fantasies all throughout the Sunlit day,
danced with lively animation on the blazing roof of my sloping terrace.

i felt captivated by the poignant aroma of the garden rose,
drank with gusto, sickening sweet curry of beehive honey.

i felt imprisoned by the melodramatic chirping of striped nightingale,
abruptly froze in my footsteps, shrugging away loads of consequential work.

i felt mesmerized by husky voices of my beloved floating in the air,
opened multiple windows of my house to distinguish the heavenly cadence in
her sound.

I felt nostalgia for native land imprison my heart,
As infinite Goosebumps crept stealthily on fragile pores of my skin.

I felt holocausts approaching me from all quarters of the globe,
Plucked several blades of grass from fertile patches of clayey mud.

The final examinations were looming large round the corner,
Dreamy regions of mind found cumbersome to decipher intermingled lines of book,
There were coats of sedation enveloping my persona,
Reminisces of childhood era punctured diligent balloons in my mind,
Fragrant premonitions of my love next door increased multifold the beating of heart,
One thing was dead sure,
If this was the route I adopted till my exams commenced,
Truckloads of luck would desert me midway,
Nefarious outcomes would haunt me for the rest of my life,
It was a pragmatic certainty,
That my youthful demeanor was likely to succumb miserably,
When confronted with the might of annual examinations.

24. MY FRIEND

He was as strong as an ox,
youthful exuberance pumped through his chest bones,
rich blood flowed in all veins of body,
golden sweat dripped down muddy contours of cheek,
long strands of hair rose occasionally with the wind,
snake leather belt was wound tightly to waist,
aroma of fresh sea water cologne emanated from cheek,
he stood tall several inches from the ground,
clad in crisp denim shirt and cream trousers,
my friend geared up to attend the midnight dance,
as his high powered bike left whirlwinds of dust behind.

he traversed the vacant streets at breakneck speeds,
listening to mystical tunes of enigma,
coherently increasing wrist pressure on speed bar,
with full illumination of focus lights,
clouds of sand grains whizzed at intimate contacts of wheel and ground,
chilly currents of winter breeze collided across his chest,
he had a large heart residing in dormitories of self respect,
at the moment he was a reckless maniac,
ready to blend torrential thunder with earth,
zipping like a demon past towering mansions of the city,
nevertheless he still would remain as my friend.

25. COLD SODA DRINK

The water was icily cold,
colored to sinister reptile brown,
coated with oxygen and aroma,
with a tinge of sweetened flavour,
and specific gravity more than one,
refrigerated in automatic mechanized plants,
passing through innumerable check monitors,
dictating strict conditions of health and hygiene,
an amalgamate of water and black vapour,
aerated to add spice to taste,
an artificial alternative of quenching thirst,
soaring to dizzy heights in the blazing sun,
a symbol of universal sophistication,
an essential ingredient for all occasions,'
a genuine appetizer for millions of bowels,
identical to alcohol before consumption,
an omnipresent commodity in shopping centers,
stone offices and cinema halls,.
spreading waves of unanimous addiction,
bottled at source in hexa inch tin metal,
with emblems of pepsi, coke, fanta, sprite...etc,
producing frothy gas when shaken,
tingling sensations when consumed,
euphoric shouts when sighted in sweat,
it doesn’t take a specialist to realize,
that i am describing a cold soda drink

26. NAILS

When i deftly plucked heinous iron nails from the soft trunk of maple tree,
cleaning its stalk with a blend of husk perfume and mineral water,
despicable patches of fungal green; vanished without leaving stingy traces,
the demeanor of lumber now transited to summit's of impeccability,
and the tree swallowed fresh gulps of air; having been hindered for several
years on the trot.

as i ripped of an assembly of wooden nails from the sordid plaster of walls,
the contraption was left isolated with king sized holes,
hostile beams of sunlight now sabotaged the interiors,
the rain and wind entered without formal invitation,
alongwith envious neighbors breaking barriers of intimate privacy.

when i trimmed unruly portions of nails from my protuberant finger,
coherently chiseling irregular indentations with the abraded base,
the appearance of my palm thereafter left me in dumbstruck stupor,
the hands once savage; now replicated articulate designs of fashion,
with the fairer sex casting frivolous glances at the web of masculinity
stripped of muddy nail.

and when i tried and evacuate colossal sized nails from the body of Christ,
emancipating his silhouette from the ghastly prisons of trauma,
he stringently admonished me whispering,
let blood trickle from my arms; an ocean of tears dribble down my cheek,
i want to free the world from realms of pain and enigmatic misery,
set an example by inflicting upon this body of flesh and bone; fathomless
distress that encompasses my fellow beings.

27. NAKED EYES

When i shielded my eyes from blistering rays of midday Sun,
wearing frivolous black tints of exquisite glass,
palpable objects on the streets appeared faded and disgustingly murky,
with all garment in flocculent white; seeming to be dipped in grey sewage water,
i felt as if sporadic flashes of blindness had stealthily encroached my vision.

as i obscured my eyes ;with bulky frames of high powered glass,
slender avenues of my eyeball resembled fully ripened eggs of the farm hen,
single silhouettes of plebeians struck my eye as multiple,
i groped my way faltering over bedraggled stone,
reached back my place of dwelling limping; with a host of broken bones.

after i sealed my eyes with a tightly wound linen cloth,
acerbic rays of sun god; flooded my vision as an ocean of red fire,
there was gruesome darkness camouflaging me at the onset of twilight,
i had to be escorted in person; with embarrassing stares hissed by oncoming individuals.

when i obliterated my eyes with round balls of blood red plastic,
frothy white milk looked like ghastly human blood,
dazzling bandwidths of crimson pierced my eye,
and i refrained completely from consuming all that was pearly white.

and when i kept my eyes naked for all day and humid night,
the results were exhilaratingly remarkable,
pungent outlines of clock tower needles now reflected clearly,
the sunbeams were as sharp as never before,
the full moon shone with undulating islands of misty black,
it was that very moment that i holistically resolved,
to keep my eyes completely naked for the tenure i was destined to walk on
mother earth.

28. A DANCE IN LUXURY COTTON

The day was astonishingly bright and Sunny,
brilliant sunshine kissed bare bricks of the multi-storied edifice,
puffs of white clouds were a meager few, wandering in oblivion,
handsome cranes dipped their beak occasionally in still water of the lake,
diminutive grains of dust glowed in the sun rays,
a fleet of jet crafts left trails of grey smoke,
there was a perfect bliss in the atmosphere,
as I stood at high altitudes from the ground surface,
on the roof top terrace plains of the tall building,
gazed thousands of feet down through my high powered pair of field glasses.

The gigantic structure was surrounded by pure cotton,
Bundles of cushion foam lined its periphery,
There were chunks of velvet and satin quilt,
Fibers of jute and gunny sacks containing unprocessed pulp,
Reinforced with soft crystal balls of spongy Dunlop.

The feelings generated were irresistible,
Waves of eccentric euphoria drowned me in totality,
It was a breathtaking view that one could ever witness,
A marvelously imposing structure, engulfed by a river of rich cotton floss.

That’s when I decided to execute this act ,
Inhaling cylinders of fresh air inside my lung,
Spread my hands like an eagle, bent my back to full angularity,
Leaped with the strong wind, bereft of elastic camouflage covers of parachute,
Hurtling headlong towards the ground at the speed of light,
Infinite hair on my skin standing upright in exhilaration,
Eventually bouncing on the maze of white cotton sea,
Blended in equanimity with jute, plastic, dunlop and fiber,
Escaped unhurt like a celestial God,
Danced like a maniac losing pressured degrees of respect and control,
As flakes of fragile cotton ,
A jugglery of thread and foam leaked from,
All quarters of my wheat complexioned body.

29. THE SCIENTIST

Blue lotions of liquid bubbled in gas flames,
large quantity of acid lay still in crucibles of hard plastic,
molecules of sweet sugar were scattered on the floor,
silky webs of spider clung to steep corners of the roof,
group of white mice ran helter -skelter at instants of heavy foot steps,
warm rays of the sun shone through the window pane,
silver mercury outlines looked enchanting in spiral testutbes,
finely crushed rock samples were stored in transparent carboys,
gold rimmed half glass caressed his triangular nose,
the scientist was in a spell of intense concentration,
with bulky sheets of printed paper buried under his chin.

innovative ideas shot through meticulous chambers of his mind,
scented sweat dripped from infinite pores of body,
square fingers with uncut nails worked in passionate fury,
blending a variety of volatile liquid,
melting wax paper with brittle chunks of chrome metal,
coating charred stone with aromatic spirit,
he had several inventions to his credit,
but this one was straight from top drawers of his brain,
as he smeared a long slender broomstick,
with a queer smelling ointment made from bird feather and ostrich egg,
the dead broomstick displayed first signs of newly found life,
rose a few inches from the concrete floor,
whistled past the open window glass,
high up in the clear blue sky with rollicking bursts of pumped speed.

30. THIRST

When i greedily gulped saline water from sea waves,
fresh centers of thirst got doubly stimulated,
wild freckles of red rash encompassed my lips,
tingling sensations vociferously tickled dreary zones of my mouth,
amalgamated mass of my intestine puked rich chicken bone,
which i had devoured in entirety a few hours ago.

when i licked blotted pools of soiled mud water,
sedately consumed large pints of contaminated liquid,
thoroughly washing tiny morsels of food in my mouth,
scraping rigid tints of yellow from the riveted cluster of teeth,
a host of infections blossomed in my body,
rendering me insipid, feeble, prone to dire consequences of complete extinction.

when i languidly sucked translucent water from coconut shell,
extracted the last drop of juice trapped within cocoons of snow white pulp,
making guttural noises as i relished the drink,
diluted streams of blood revitalized with volatile energy,
abandoning me with poignant traces of contentment,
entrenching me in blissful boundaries of felicity.

as i opened my mouth to gulp crystal white waters of the mountain spring,
spread eagled my palms to embrace the cascading froth,
i felt tumultuous gratification engulfing my persona,
this was the purest form of water i could ever perceive of consuming,
quenching my thirst for minutes immemorial,
scrupulously mending all webs torn by the essence of substitute water.

31. NOODLES

When i caressed barren regions of my flesh with furry noodles of wool,
nimble hair stuck to skin stood up in animation,
as i broke into volleys of irresistible laughter.

as i kneaded long noodles of raw paper pulp,
there was a conglomerate of reddish white wax formed,
and a heavenly fragrance of garnished paper tickled moistened hair in my nostril.

when i gulped compact noodles of gelatin capsule,
the magical powder spread parasitically through infinite veins,
rendering me with bleak rays of hope, as i relinquished gruesome pain.

when i swung vociferously on noodles of thickly knotted thread,
poignant missiles of air colliding with my body through the interstitched holes,
there were languid feelings enveloping bountiful layers of my persona,
prompting me to shut my eyes tightly and sleep.

as i smeared supple regions of skin with unsymmetrical noodles of virgin clay,
washed my body in the holy waters of Ganges,
the natural antiseptic displayed spectacular aftermaths,
transforming morbid exteriors of my demeanor into a brilliant sparkling
white.

when i consumed spongy noodles blended with bulky extracts of spice,
drank gallons of golden beer causing them to drown,
i fell down with indispensable thuds on the king poster bed,
envisaging tall mountains with silver peaks, in my everlasting slumber.

when i felt agonizing noodles of her precious tears dribble down my neck,
i wiped them thoroughly with my tender lips,
obliterated her from blasphemous sectors of the world,
reinforcing her eyes with the passionate tenacity of my love.

32. OCEAN OF DREAMS

Olive green grenades of juicy fruit,
silver grey oysters touching ocean beds,
round yellow moulds of gold biscuits,
black leather made of pure python skin,
glass trolleys from projecting pivots of Ferris wheel,
leather bound volumes of English dictionary,
sliding metallic doors of refrigerated apparatus,
big tyre treads of fantasy Toyota,
wrought iron legs of four poster bed,
mesmerizing voice of the tower cuckoo clock,
articulately carved statues of marble,
jeweled parker pens with ball pointed refill,
exquisite clothing for all kinds of wear,
luminating dials of strapped wrist watch,
everlasting chill of window air conditioner,
lush green lawns with high converging fountains,
sprawling meadows of migratory birds,
blood curling growl of hybrid Alsatian,
electronic computers with surplus microchips,
100 pails of freshly extracted cow milk,
royal game of chess played on checkered squares,
brown thatched roofs of clay huts,
inflated sharpened pencil shell of scud missiles,
dense camouflaged orchards of red apple,
solitary confinement amidst an assemblage of graves,
bronze plated flower vase with red roses,
flashing signal lights in London streets,
loose cattle wandering on Swiss plateau's,
a motor boat cruise of river Thames,
multicolored flags of global nations,
rotund policemen on Asian roads,
mega suspense thrillers of James bond,
acres of fertile farm land,
electric charged atmosphere of stock market floor,
bottles of tightly corked Australian champagne,
furry green tables of playing cards,
slender skies for zipping through snow,
throaty chuckles while viewing Walt Disney,
rich tapestry of aircraft seat,
mono-rails trespassing African jungles,
museums possessing antiquated fossils,
revolving trophies of championship wins,
hunched camel back on desert soil,
cigarettes containing filtered tobacco,
frogs croaking in discordant unison,
midnight stars in a twinkling cameo,
i wake up with pricked jerks,
drenched with cold ice water,
thrown in disdain by my plump mother,
one thing's for certain,
my mind is a vast ocean of dreams.

33. ON A HOLIDAY

I felt woolen threads of afghan carpet tickling me,
a saga of emotions draining golden reserves of energy.
i saw cherry red apples dangling from leafy tree twigs,
swam rapidly across chilly currents of deep water.
i kicked loose chunks of dirt with my spiked shoe,
rode on bare horseback through soggy fields of unripened paddy.
i drenched myself with saliva dribbling from my mouth,
fed the cows with lush green bundles of country grass.
i devoured greedily, roasted slices of barbecued goat,
paced vigorously through sea sand hosting an army of venomous crab.
i drove my slender nosed sedan at breakneck speeds,
whistled at the top of my lungs piercing placid carpets of air.
i swayed rhythmically to infectious tunes of music,
sipped chocolate rum from large beer mugs of bone china.
i stared at my reflection in sparkling mountain water,
draped myself in expensive linen suit with tinges of gold.
i dug tunnels in mud with crowbars of metal,
fondled long silky ears of my pet Alsatian.
i painted the courtyard walls with hasty strokes of king sized brush,
snored like a demon through humid passing hours of the summer night.

34. ON MY DAY

I was confronted with cumbersome amounts of jigsaw puzzles,
which on my day would unleash themselves with nonchalant ease.

i felt inadvertently stabbed at umpteenth places of my persona,
infinite thorns punctured spongy sheath of my car tyre,
the same refrained to happen when on my day.

i fell from unprecedented heights of the tower,
escaped unhurt devoid of agonizing bruise on my day.

i felt exhausted, stripped of reserve quota's of volatile energy,
was yet able to accomplish disdainful tasks on my day.

i felt impeccable pieces of memory deserting me when delivering my best,
the same got reinforced with sacrosanct knowledge when on my day.

i felt as if torn to bone by menacing white sharks in the sapphire ocean,
assassinated the same mammal with adroit strokes of blade when on my day.

i lost stringent consciousness after consuming intoxicating red wine,
danced like an untamed elephant, tearing my hair,
all solitary winter night when on my day.

i felt violent palpitations lambaste my heart while facing brunt of weekly test,
the same transited to impassionate waves of relaxed demeanor,
magical contours encompassing my face when on my day.

i devoured sour cream fermented with bacteria as the first meal of dawn,
received a silken cascade of rich pearly milk when on my day.

i kept searching for misplaced notes within an ambience of juxtaposed objects,
saw the same looming large in close proximity with eyeball when on my day.

she averted me with obnoxious fervour all throughout the course of unfolding years,
was perched blissfully abreast my heart when on my day.

35. A PALACE OF DREAMS

Spongy toes project awkwardly,
from dark flesh of gentle feet,
waxy liquid in blue bottles,
leather bound books laid in dust,
quintals of paper sheets flying astray,
dingy bulbs cutting dark holes,
flashy portraits stuck to red brick,
antiquated moulds of varnished wood,
ceramic squares of lavatory tiles,
ergonomic bulge of fantasy pillows,
scented sprays ,with a blend of antiseptic,
colored tablets of soap, a range of toiletry,
sliding cabinets of solid steel,
thick drapery of rich curtain spread,
shielding stringent rays of sunlight,
solitary vents for cool air,
sprawled water beds with tepid water,
reliable tetra winged ceiling fan,
with switchboard panels pummeled to concrete,
electronic gadgetry on revolving rubber,
black pointed arrows of the giant father clock,
exaggerated crumbling polished wall paint,
tall framework of slanted mirrors,
crisp shirts of pure cotton floss,
grey linen flannels hanging down,
semicircular marble arches with potted plants,
strips of black scotch tape spread wildly,
translucent glass panes of window shutters,
shaven wood scalps of voodoo witchcraft,
the large oak tree at visible heights,
shooting through solid foundations,
with shadows of ecstasy lurking stealthily,
a glittering heap of silver coins,
solid iron doors with heavy bolts,
providing loads of security,
escalating fragrance of tangible comfort,
with a pandemonium of chorused voices,
is all what i have in my room.

36. PERCEPTION OF A JUNGLE

I lay on primitive mass of chocolate brown soil,
digging cupfuls of earth with brackish hand,
engraving incoherent designs with big toe,
smearing my face with slippery mud,
envisaging,

the splendor of the fragrant rose,
the timeless chirping of humming sparrow,
nocturnal movements of colored reptile,
sedate swim of lethal alligator with king sized jaw,
prolific sprint of striped leopard for prey,
non invasive walk of multi-legged insects,
green light radiating from twin eyeballs of owl,
entangled network of crisscrossed antelope horn,
mammoth silky strands of African spider web,
pure white monstrous egg of wailing vulture,
black haired apes feeding on jackfruit,
slender necked peacock exposing kingly feather,
pouch bellied kangaroo racing at whirlwind speed,
fleet footed squirrels eluding acerbic rays of light,
i suddenly feel dirty, coated with pungent clay mud,
the vigils of darkness taking a stranglehold on murky light,
prompting me to climb wooden rungs of my treetop house,
sleep in tranquil, snore like a beast, on elastic wood of forked tree branch.

37. PERILS OF OLD AGE

There was a heavy shrinkage of body bones,
supple parchments of skin had now transited to decayed yellow,
the cheeks had sunk well within cavities of hollow,
juicy pulp of lips resembled jagged outlines of smashed rock,
the harmony of teeth was broken by gaping tunnels of black,
crystal marbles of the eye had relinquished the power to see,
handsome pairs of shoulders stooped disconcertingly towards earth,
a paltry few hair on the scalp had turned a disdainful grizzly white,
frigid feet now ached when i placed them on the ground to walk,
knotty hard fingers had shriveled to bonded sticks of soft pencil,
chambers in the ear abnegated all voices in proximity,
huge tendrils of white fiber emanated from my nose,
calcium coats of nail had stopped growing on my finger,
the kidneys malfunctioned with a plethora of stone,
chocolate brown sacs of liver had condensed to small specks.

i felt newly born again, needing someone to cuddle me, make me go to sleep,
alas! i was all alone leading life in absolute desolation,
my spouse had deserted me several years ago,
the people around viewed me with contempt and loads of dejection,
my tongue quavered violently when wanting to speak,
bowels in my intestines refused all food,
the walking stick now bore insults, the brunt of few pounds of my weight,
i was 90 years old, on the verge of extinction from realms of mother earth,
tear drops from my eyes had dried decades ago,
the only gratification was, that i still breathed air, reminisced radiant
images of my youth.

38. PIPES

Fleshy pipes of my legs carried me long distance,
made sure i was triumphant in every race of life.

wooden pipes filled with sedative tobacco caused me drown in aroma,
ensured that i floated in paradise, a few hours after consumption.

steel pipes of the pistol made me feel like an uncrowned king,
blessed me with loads of comfort and unprecedented power.

twin pipes of my nose facilitated me to take in air,
breathe in a celestial bliss for the time till i lived.

knotted pipes of my palm fingers gave me versatility to write,
held with earnest solidarity steaming mugs of milk for me to drink.

infinite pipes of hair descended down my scalp,
cushioning my skull from brutal blows of metal and wind.

a crimson pink pipe of tongue extruded from chambers of mouth,
blessing me with the authority to win the world through my speech.

there were pipes of fragile plastic in all rooms of my house,
providing me with bountiful amounts of ground water.

angular pipes of bone protruded from my elbow,
assisting me hold my head down when struck by unfathomable shame.

nostalgic pipes crept haphazardly from throbbing pores of my heart,
oozing incessantly the agony of existence,
the blissful tales of my everlasting love.

39. A PITCHER FULL OF GOLD

I started digging soil with pickaxe of the strongest iron,
loose chunks of mud flew haphazardly,
coagulated sand broke into diffused cakes of brown earth,
snail worms and ant ran for safe enclosures,
the ground was bruised with unrelenting strokes of sharp blade,
interior recesses of land were wet in moisture,
sandwiched layers of soil wept at the invasion,
hot geysers of liquid erupted at great depths from the surface,
as rain showers of sweat ran down my flesh,
after perspiring hours of grueling excavating work.

mammoth intervals of clock time passed by,
the sun peeped at dawn every fresh day,
my palms developed cracks with bleeding pores of skin,
stubby filaments of beard transformed into platelets of wild hair,
rich cotton clothing resembled threadbare rags of a beggar,
eyeballs were transfixed down for infinite intervals of time,
i was severely exhausted,
reserve energies of my body were sapping down,
all of a sudden my axe struck metal,
there followed a ear splitting collision,
shards of gold flew alongwith bits of clay pottery,
my face lit up with glee,
my body was enveloped with waves of jubilation,
i knew i was going to relish luxury meals,
live in silver palaces for a while,
as the century old assemblage of buried yellow coins,
kept cascading through the small aperture made by my
plaintive pickaxe.

40. YELLOW BEAMS OF SUNLIGHT

When yellow beams of Sunlight passed through blood stained glass,
the rays transited to crimson red; with prominent tinges of pallid empathy.

when yellow beams of Sunlight permeated through a dense forage of leaves,
the rays converted to mesmerizing shadows; obfuscated from harsh light.

when yellow beams of Sunlight penetrated through pellucid pools of mountain water,
the rays transformed to a honey golden; converging like a quiver of arrows
on clusters of fish.

when yellow beams of Sunlight filtered through daintily polished finger nails,
the rays acquired color of pink avenues of tender skin.

when yellow beams of Sunlight sneaked through morbid interiors bathing in pitch darkness,
the rays illuminated the ghostly ambience with stringent rays of antiseptic light.

when yellow beams of Sunlight softly caressed frozen tunnels of white ice,
the rays lambasted the tyranny of savage winter; prompting the snow to melt.

when yellow beams of Sunlight fell on the clammy surface of stale tea,
the rays prompted its pallid persona to boisterously heat and sizzle.

when yellow beams of Sunlight pilfered through hollow crevices of teeth,
the rays fumigated obnoxious centers of rotten breath inhabiting in abundance.

when yellow beams of Sunlight plunged on the satiny mattress of scalp hair,
the rays reinvigorated intricate parts of brain machinery with holistic warmth.

and when yellow beams of light pierced through my heart;body;and soul,
the rays had overwhelming tasks of perpetually bonding me with my beloved,
amalgamating me and her for centuries galore; with the essence of our love
radiating its blissful fragrance.

41. THERE WAS A TIME

There was a time when i bludgeoned people with my rock iron fists,
now i didn't even have the vigor to raise my hands.

there was time when i drove my car at swashbuckling speeds,
now my legs quivered at mentions of automobile travel.

there was a time when drank barrels of beer with unprecedented gusto,
now i refrained from drinking even salted water.

there was a time when i cast frivolous glances at young maidens,
now i withdrew miles away from the faintest shadow of females.

there was a time when i clambered up the hill with robust spurts of euphoria,
now i stood at the base and admired the honey golden Sun; tumbling drops of rain.

there was a time when i chewed vicious petals of raw tobacco,
now i confined myself to a bland soup of banana curry.

there was a time when i shouted on the streets creating utter pandemonium,
now i talked in subtle whispers with my spouse; in imprisoned interiors of our home.

there was a time when i gnawed my teeth in the brittle body of sugarcane,
now i satisfied myself with frigid chunks of sour milk cream.

there was a time when i bathed in an avalanche of freezing water; beneath the mountain spring,
now i meticulously poured minuscule tumblers of hot water on my persona.

there was a time wrote sedulously; infinite lines of poignant literature,
now i dictated lethargic notes for my assistants to scribble down.

there was a time when i indulged in rambunctious brawls with my rivals,
now i begged them for perennial harmony with folded hands.

there was a time when there when i bore a thick shock of curly hair on my scalp,
now they had been replaced by frugal fibers of deathly white projecting timidly.

there was a time when i spotted oblivious outlines of bird in the sky,
now i wore high powered glass to distinguish my children.

there was a time when I dismantled rocks that came my way,
now I was petrified to even tread on ants that trespassed the floor.

There was a time when I sobbed at the slightest of provocation,
Now I stared in tranquil contentment even when ridiculed to bizarre limits.

There was a time when I laughed incessantly all Sunlit day,
Now I groped for inexplicably for profound reasons to smile.

There was a time when I romanticized wading through choppy waves of the ocean,
Now I perceived loads of gratification; sitting abreast my innocent siblings.

That was decades when I was bubbling in the zeal of youth,
Whilst now I lay shriveled; discarded as a disdainful liability; in the form of an grizzly hair man.

42. PLEASE

Please do disturb me in enchanting night of chilly winter,
when i sleep like an angel; strangulated in the fragrance of blueberry musk.

Please keep miles away when i drive my battered jalopy,
with the horns wailing; and rustic shards of metal protruding out.

Please take me with you in mesmerizing waters of the blue ocean,
for i desire to swim parallel to the pearly white shark; and sapphire blue whale.

Please help me carry cumbersome loads hung to my dainty shoulders,
As I contracted a deadly sprain, tripping down from the balcony rail.

Please flood my mundane ears with pungent notes of captivating music,
Nostalgically imprisoning me in mind, body and soul.

Please inspire me to read vociferously through innumerable pages of history literature,
Rendering me capable to conquer invincible might's of examination.

Please prepare a concoction of steaming brown coffee with extracts of pure honey,
Facilitating me to perspire in solitary hours past midnight.

Please help me disentangle a jugglery of thread wound to my wrist,
Releasing my blood from jaws of sinister captivity.

Please refrain from indulging in animated talk with pedestrians,
As volcanic pangs of jealousy would shoot through my veins.

Please adorn your hair with scented braids of rose flower,
Drowning my starved nostril into waves of everlasting euphoria.

Please don’t get angry when I commit erroneous blunders,
As I surely would patch up for them at prime costs of my life.

Please walk beside me with your hands entwined in mine,
For me to perceive the passionate warmth radiating from your fingers.

Please stay with me for the time we breathe,
For if you deserted me; I would simply relinquish all power to live.

43. POND OF WATER

I dabble my feet in a pool of water,
Lying solitary on deserted tarmac,
A blend of algae and dirt,
With a caravan of powerful stench emanating,
Perceived obnoxiously by the breath center,
Comprising hairy tunnels of sticky mucus,
Creating waves of hazy drops,
Suspended in elastic walls of blotted water,
In an ambience of moistened blackness,
Appalling gloom of the sweltering night,
With fleet of birds chirping incessantly,
Propagating freedom through aviatory rhymes.
The water factory of micro-organisms,
Awaits galleries of blistering sunshine,
A million seconds of bated breath,
Fumigating it with clean rays of filtered light,
Breaking chains of trapped water,
Few days of stagnated persona,
Evaporating a hectare of water pond,
An assemblage of seasonal rainfall,
Into crispy delights of thin atmosphere.

44. THE POWER OF MY LOVE

If you ventured to leap from unprecedented heights of the building,
the power of my love would stop you from colliding with the earth.
if you thought of consuming vials of deadly snake poison,
the power of my love would transform it into golden herbs revitalizing life.
if you planned to severe the bunch of blissful veins on your wrist,
the power of my love would replace them with impenetrable sheets of metal.
if you pondered on pursuing nefarious paths of lechery,
the power of my love would freeze your footsteps violently midway.
if you dreamt of driving your automobile at breakneck speeds,
the power of my love would impregnate your persona from all sides,
averting possible collisions and obstacles that came your way.

if you walked pompously in blistering heat waves of the Sun God,
the power of my love would imprison you in a vice like grip with blankets of shady moisture.

if you tried and concealed from me indispensable secrets of your life,
the power of my love would prompt you to vomit the same with intense fury.

if you shivered convulsively feeling stabbed by whirlwinds of fear,
the power of my love would make you sleep with compassionate warmth flooding every corner of your body.

if blood oozed from your slender fingers while chopping vegetable,
the power of my love would rehabilitate your bare wounds with supple skin.
if you felt tormented by irascible groups of strangers,
the power of my love would assassinate their necks from base tips of their skulls.

if you whipped yourself in isolation and sheer contempt,
the power of my love would convert your agonizing cries into those of pure ecstasy.
if you ever thought of leaving me,
the omnipotent power of my love would annihilate all such thoughts,
before they even gained prominence in frigid pores of your mind.

45. PRE-REQUISITE'S

I felt like consuming soft cones of chilled raspberry ice-cream,
nibbling gently at the appetizing kernel of white nut,
all i needed was a glutinous mouth to swallow,
a sheaf of crisp currency notes as a pre-requisite.

i felt like swimming underwater for long intervals of time,
caressing the mangled outgrowths of coral reef with my supple skin,
it was therefore indispensable to be a prolific swimmer,
with the aqualung apparatus and an ocean of courage being a pre-requisite.

i felt like sketching intricate shapes of roman Gods,
filling the same with glossy color and embroidered silk,
i knew i had to be a true connoisseur of mystical art,
also posses a pair of articulate fingers as an inevitable pre-requisite.

i felt like flying as the birds in the azure sky,
relishing the poignant breeze slapping across my face,
this seemed possible; if i was a fairy in the tales of Arabian nights,
with twin pair of corrugated wings as a solitary pre-requisite.

i dreamt and lived life with blissful visions of acquiring solace in heaven,
spending unsurpassable lengths of time with the Creator,
i had in turn to fulfill fathomless duties on earth,
with a plethora of chivalrous deeds being a pre-requisite this time.

46. PROUD INHERITANCE

A brittle shell camouflaged my body,
engraved with multicolored stripes of steel gray,
slimy in texture, resembling dead chunks of wood,
as hard as a rock, unmoved when blasted with explosive.

a fleshy neck protruded from my hollow skull,
imprisoning a slender pink tongue swallowing glow worm,
compact sets of teeth were for churning meal,
i retraced my nose within cozy comforts of body pouch,
the moment it smelt the unmistakable aroma of approaching man.

a pair of eyeball beads composed my vision,
sighting appetizing prey in murky ambience of light,
maneuvering my lazy feet to the place I resided,
triggering my instincts of self defense,
warning me round the clock of possible predators encroaching upon.

I swam at painstaking speed in stagnant pond of monsoon water,
Nibbled floating weed ,drank lots of liquid,
Lay topsy-turvy on clay strewn banks of river,
With my belly bathing in dazzling rays of the Sun God,
My head inches within my tubular body,
Whirlwinds of tension far away from my silhouette,
Meditating jungle rhymes in this state of dormancy,
Till pangs of hunger stimulated me to hunt,
I knew the Creator had blessed me with more than a century of life,
As I had proudly inherited the form of a tortoise from my still alive mother.

47. RED ANT POWER

Wrinkled folds of elephant skin were painted golden yellow,
ivory tusks were encircled with ornate black,
sturdy teak wood seat was strapped to its body,
large fringe of hair grew on slender tail,
the elongated trunk had several corrugations,
scalp was abraded by uprooting tall tree structures,
the pachyderm marched through the wilderness,
crushing an armoury of shrub, dismantling bird house with caressing trunk,
bellowed exuberantly as the sky turned crimson,
added leaps to its stride with torrential rain,
carried passengers at towering heights from the ground,
bathed in gushing currents of the mountain river,
splashing rockets of solvent on the surrounding flamingo's,
drenching itself with icy spray of spring water.

there was a fleet of ants residing in cocoons of soil,
bustling with feverish activity,
transporting milligram amounts of food grain,
for relishing meals all throughout the day.
the African beast trampled their den,
disrupting the harmony of their united network,
killing them in colossal numbers, sped haughtily for a good nights sleep.
the ants wanted to teach him a lesson,
caught up with him, clung to his tail, foot,
occupied vantage points on his body,
finally inserting their venom stings on the hard skinned mammal,
causing him to collapse in a heap, displaying the supreme might of red ant power.

48. THE RUBBER MAN

I erased bulky manuscripts of scribbled literature,
assassinated traces of the strongest chalk smeared on wall,
bounced with boisterous pliability on the surface of hard ground,
squirmed with nonchalant ease through tiny openings of sewage pipe,
clambered up erect walls of the edifice with scrupulous proficiency,
didn't diffuse into splinters when thrown from unprecedented heights of clock tower,
traversed metal roads of the city at incredible speeds,
disentangled my body from the tightest rope and steel,
floated gently when laid on undulating waters of the savage ocean,
wasn’t fastidious at all about the food i consumed,
neither did i get engulfed in waves of dirt; staying immaculate without
antiseptic baths,
had the uncanny ability to fit in all types of cloth,
pilfering into sealed vaults of bank ;stripped of articulate keys,
i didn't bleed a trifle when pierced by gleaming jackknives,
i didn't transit to charred ash when burnt in boiling flames,
i didn't suffocate to death when strangulated by barbed wire,
i didn't vanish to heavenly isolation when divested of food and water,
bubbling with robust energy even when deprived of a placid nights sleep,
working like a maniac all 24 hours of the grueling day,
i made people laugh ,existing for centuries on the pious soil of earth,
a life complete with vibrant euphoria, bereft of dark shadows of ostentation,
you must be wondering; whether i was god or an celestial angel,
let me tell you folks that i was neither of the two,
i was infact made of pure slices of intricate rubber,
extracted in abundance from white streams of latex dribbling down the rubber tree.

49. FREE SALIVA

When i spit saliva on brackish complexioned tan ground,
there were pearly streaks of white formed amidst an assemblage of disdainful black.

when i spit saliva on the scintillating surface of immaculate marble,
hordes of pedestrians tripped headlong; after an encounter with the slippery surface.

when i spit saliva on ravishing morsels of steaming food,
the concoction transited to a fetid brown; hosting an army of obnoxious mosquito.

when i spit saliva on delectable pints of frosty milk,
the opulently prosperous liquid turned into fermented bitter cream.

when i spit saliva on finely decimated granules of sugar,
it produced a molten ointment of jaggery; deleterious to health.

when i spit saliva on arid patches of blistering air,
the ambience was submerged in passionate humidity; pacifying high strung temper.

when i spit saliva on the surface of vast sapphire ocean,
it simply faded into oblivion ;diffusing amongst colossal chains of trapped salt.

when i spit saliva in vehicular petrol,
the elixir was rendered useless for further use; failing miserably in its
attempts to rekindle the machine.

when i spit saliva on a jugglery of software electronic,
the contraption hissed currents of venomous electricity; electrocuting tender bones in my skin.

when i spit saliva on slithering persona of jungle reptile,
its demeanor glittered like pure gold; blended with stripes of vibrant yellow.

when i spit saliva on crisp sheets of morning paper,
the manuscript was reduced to threadbare pulp; with distorted lines of English literature.

when i spit saliva on burning embers of black coal,
the flames died a natural death; with sporadic spurts in intensity.

when i spit saliva on parched soil of the desert,
it applauded my efforts; thanking me heartily for my assiduous efforts.

and when i didn't spit saliva at all; my body
retaliated in poignant anger,
irresistible sensations proliferated in my mouth,
and i eventually burst open my constipated mouth; emitting a frothy spray; as it didn't cost me to spit loads of free saliva.

50. THE SCARY TARANTULA

The ambience was moistened with sweat and fresh rain,
darkness prevailed at all quarters,
soft car seat was reclined to full angularity,
cluster of lotus flower petal imparted heavenly fragrance,
lid of olive perfume bottle was left ajar,
sheets of turbulent wind had left the windows painted with dust,
plush upholstery gleamed in airtight interiors,
grocery baskets were stashed in the back seat,
a black bodied insect seemed to be crawling on the windshield,
with an army of hairy legs kissing the bullet proof glass,
the tarantula finally decided to perch for the night,
in hidden enclosures of the rear view glass panel.

she haughtily stepped in the car,
beaming at the prospect of driving through the misty valley,
switched on the sleek stereo system,
drove with the enchanting air hitting her pale skin,
drowned completely in tantalizing tunes of Caribbean music.

there was a loud honking sound, a goods caravan seemed to overtake,
she cast routine glances at the rear assembly of mirror,
the ghastly sight she witnessed sent chills down the last bone of her spine,
occasional bumps and winding turns had disturbed the spider,
jostled it wide awake from lazy realms of blissful sleep,
the foot long monster now emitted hostile stares at the young lady,
showed first signs of slow movement,
now fully alert after few hours of revitalizing rest.

she cried at the top of her weak lungs for help,
infinite goose-bumps emanated from her body,
her fingers trembled convulsively, with equal impact on her dainty feet,
the car finally swerved violently,
lost sensible degrees of control as she went into partial trance,
crashed into splinters of side hand rail,
went tumbling down the steep valley at electric speeds,
as the tarantula advanced a few inches further.

The End .

© 2016 Nikhil Parekh


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Added on October 26, 2016
Last Updated on October 26, 2016
Tags: poem, book, literature, anthology, free verse, rhyming, non rhyming

Author

Nikhil Parekh
Nikhil Parekh

Ahmedabad, India



About
Nikhil Parekh , ( born August 27 ; 1977 ) from Ahmedabad , India - is a Love Poet and 10 time National Record holder for his Poetry with the Limca Book of Records India , which is India's Best Book of.. more..

Writing