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Black
The Power of Black - Poems on Humanity, Social Cause, Poverty, Women empowerment - volume 1 (183 pages) , at; amazon.com/dp/B003XVYJ78.
a Poem from my above described Book -
Black. A Color which surreptitiously tingles even the most obliviously dormant crannies of your soul; to realms beyond the wisps of eternal eternity.
Black. A Color which triggers an unsurpassable inferno of hidden fires in your naked skin; indefatigably tantalizing your nimble shadow to forever blend with the celestially enamoring fabric of the night.
Black. A Color which inevitably magnetizes you towards even the most infinitesimal speck of your surrounding environment; irrespective of your indelibly vociferous denial to survive.
Black. A Color which engenders you to timelessly discover your ever-pervadingly unbridled creativity; as you ardently gyrate in the passionately undying fabric of the iridescent night.
Black. A Color which stupefies every conceivable patch of the whites of your eye; transfixes you into a state of timelessly eternal bliss; with nothing else but a cloud of everlasting sensuality as your sole savior.
Black. A Color which insatiably augments your desire to inexhaustibly proliferate; inundate every perceivable filament of earth divine with cloudbursts of your untamed virility; with none but amorphous darkness to discover.
Black. A Color which brings out the truest shades of your eclectically vibrant personality; at times unleashing the unfettered animal within you; as you ecstatically slaver and rollick on virgin mud; without a cloth to engulf your uncontrollably shivering skin.
Black. A Color which renders every pore of your impeccable flesh in unlimited bewilderment of the profound feel of boundless depth; transports you into an unending labyrinth of ebulliently perennial desire.
Black. A Color which forever rectifies even the most inconspicuous trace of inconsolably pulverizing misery; coalescing every form of torturous anguish in
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vicinity with a singleton shade of amazingly mollifying equanimity.
Black. A Color which indefatigably challenges the devil to appear again and again and again; only so that the spirit of triumphantly Omnipotent righteousness; overtopples it beyond dormitories of feasible recognition; everytime.
Black. A Color which forever annihilates even the most evanescent trace of your dolorously beleaguered shadow; encompassing every ingredient of your crimson blood with the undaunted tenacity to holistically survive.
Black. A Color which makes you fearlessly entwine your fingers with the intrepidly unknown; igniting the bonfire of unstoppable adventure in every conceivable corridor of your innocuously pious soul.
Black. A Color which perpetuates even the most extinguishing part of you to fantasize beyond the definitions of the extraordinary; discover the completeness of existence as the flaming Sun sinks well behind the Omnipresent horizons.
Black. A Color which makes you wholesomely forget every tangible idiosyncrasy of caste; creed; tribe or color; as all appeared symbiotically alike under the most celestially ameliorating carpet of the moonless night.
Black. A Color which knew no blazing victory or ghastly defeat; as even the most ethereal trace of war ceased with the descent of the marvelously royal night.
Black. A Color which metamorphoses even the most monotonously robotic part of you into the most seductively mitigating of poet; as you inevitably started to churn fathomless lines of divinely poetry; with every whisper and kiss of the night.
Black. A Color which makes you synergistically neutral to life and death; misery and effulgent happiness; as all you could see; perceive; implement and imbibe; was just darkness; darkness and just timelessly emancipating darkness.
Black. A Color which foments you to exhale the most fervently fiery of your breath; in order to victoriously blaze a stream of optimistically mitigating light; through the tunnel of unendingly embracing darkness.
Black. A Color which facilitates spectacularly untamed lovemaking to the most unconquerable limits; as countless blessed seeds of fertility timelessly permeated the cradle of the atmosphere; with absolutely no hindrance to grow; at an hour always past passionate midnight.
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Nikhil Parekh
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Busy
You die; I die - Love Poems - Part 15 (141 pages) , at; amazon.com/dp/B013H4F550.
a Poem from my above described Book -
The clouds were mystically busy; in showering tantalizing globules of rain; upon fathomless territories of agonizingly parched soil,
The Sun was flamingly busy; in magically sizzling every cranny of this boundlessly congenial Universe; with golden beams of its optimistically enchanting light,
The spiders were fabulously busy; in enamoringly weaving silken strands of webs; euphorically bouncing in the threads; fervently anticipating the prey of their choice,
The fires were swelteringly busy; in charring even the most infinitesimal iota of tenacious logwood; to threadbare bits of minuscule ash,
The clowns were ludicrously busy; in tumultuously evoking a festoon of unfathomable smiles; on the faces of all those besieged with cloudbursts of inexplicable gloom,
The eagles were majestically busy; in enshrouding every bit of drearily insipid space; with exuberant draughts of exotic air,
The snakes were ominously busy; in stealthily waiting for innocuously sparkling skin; ebullient chunks of flesh to venomously infiltrate their murderously sinister fangs; in,
The fortresses were invincibly busy; in compassionately sequestering all those disastrously orphaned and dithering; from the acrimoniously mighty onslaught; of
the turgidly satanic society,
The clothes were amiably busy; in shielding innocently naked skin from vindictively frozen avalanches of wind; as well as tyrannically ferocious rays of; the uncouthly blistering afternoon,
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The cars were boisterously busy; in rhapsodically transporting fatigued battalions of passengers; to the most resplendently placating destination of their supreme choice,
The sharks were diabolically busy; in frantically groping for immaculate prey; metamorphose a profusely robust framework of ravishing flesh and blood; into a devastatingly transposed curry of sheer nothingness,
The dogs were pertinently busy; in dolefully barking; deluging the trajectory of the gloomily treacherous night; with an incomprehensible number of their ghoulish wails,
The ghosts were insidiously busy; in casting the spell of their gorily sinister doom; devouring blissful civilizations; in the swirl of their hideously obfuscated and grotesque countenances,
The eyes were indefatigably busy; in profoundly discerning and imbibing the fathomlessly glorious beauty of this gregariously mystical Universe; paving their way ecstatically forward to coin astoundingly new chapters of existence,
The blood was poignantly busy; in spell bindingly imparting fortitude to each arena of the staggeringly bedraggled body; rejuvenating it to unfurl refreshingly emphatic chapters of; a vividly vibrant tomorrow,
The pigs were disdainfully busy; in excoriating through lugubrious piles of garbage at lightening velocities; ruthlessly gobbling even the most worthlessly stinking piece of shit; that sleazily greeted them in their savage way,
The forests were inscrutably busy; in churning tales of unrelenting mysticism; voluptuously kissing the charismatic blanket of the stupendously glittering night; with seductive fireballs of empathy; and life,
The Gods were Omnisciently busy; in proliferating astronomical spurts of sacred life on the boundlessly beautiful planet; articulately maneuvering the destiny of each organism; rich
or lecherously poor; alike,
And my Heart was perpetually busy; in incarcerating the beats of her passionately divine heart; assimilating and immortal bonding with the essence of her unparalleled love; uniting with her philanthropic will; to bless all benign mankind.
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Nikhil Parekh
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But You Looked The Best
You die; I die - Love Poems - Part 4 (166 pages) , at; amazon.com/dp/B011PXSN1S.
Poetry from my Book as above mentioned -
You looked more ravishing than the fairies; when I sighted you under flamboyantly fiery rays of dazzling Sunlight,
You looked more mesmerizing than the heavenly waterfalls; when I sighted you under milky beams of resplendent moonlight,
You looked more innocuous than the freshly born infant; when I sighted you under ethereally evanescent shadows of dawn,
You looked more tantalizing than the full blossomed vivacious peacock; when I sighted you in the overwhelmingly murky camouflage of dusk,
But you looked the best; seated naturally by my side; profoundly lost in your eternal dreams; with every beat of yours bonding immortally with mine.
You looked more celestial than the angels; when I sighted you frolicking flirtatiously in the ocean waves,
You looked more enchanting than the myriad of profusely poignant rose; when I sighted you blushing in untamed embarrassment,
You looked more seductive than the most voluptuous of nights; when I sighted you gallivanting euphorically upon your golden horse,
You looked more immaculate that the crusts of pristine snow; when I sighted you spreading your lips into a spell binding smile,
But you looked the best; seated naturally by my side; profoundly lost in your eternal dreams; with every beat of yours bonding immortally with mine.
Your looked more surreally fabulous than the most unfathomable of dream; when I sighted you soaring through the handsomely misty clouds,
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You looked more exuberant than the thunderously gushing breeze; when I sighted you wholesomely drenched in ebullient globules of fresh rain,
You looked more astonishing than royally crackling flames of fire; when I sighted you embellished in a festoon of silver oyster pearls,
You looked more fragrant than the field of newly sprouted lotus; when I sighted you philandering barefoot in the wilderness of the enigmatic midnight,
But you looked the best; seated naturally by my side; profoundly lost in your eternal dreams; with every beat of yours bonding immortally with mine.
You looked more sagacious than any prudent entity on this planet; when I sighted you communicating with the flock of impeccable pigeons; perched majestically on
your rubicund palms,
You looked more alluring than the incredulously striped rainbow in the sky; when I sighted you whistling and staring unrelentingly into exotically open space,
You looked more dense than most fathomless of forests; when I sighted you batting your eyelids towards the mirror; an infinite times,
You looked more special than anybody else on this planet; when I sighted tears of poignant philanthropism; dribble down from your irrefutably sacred eyes,
But you looked the best; seated naturally by my side; profoundly lost in your eternal dreams; with every beat of yours bonding immortally with mine.
Nikhil Parekh
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Delightful Farm
Hide and Seek - part 7 - Rhyming & Non Rhyming Poems (76 pages) , at; amazon.com/dp/B0159CX3R0.
a Poem from my above described Book -
The placid pebble in blue water,
The yellow Sun evading the skies,
A black cloud of mixed feeling,
The blue tear strained eyes.
The mist hanging in the air,
The white dew drops in the field,
The heavenly smell of thatched hay,
The fathers scattered everywhere.
The delicious smell of baked corn,
The cock singing a perfect rhyme,
The lively squirrel on the tree,
The evanescent rising of dawn.
The hedges covered with green foliage,
The fields to be ploughed at,
The hushed rustling of the trees,
The sweet melody in the air.
Nikhil Parekh
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Don't Mess With Love
You die; I die - Love Poems - Part 9 (146 pages) , at; amazon.com/dp/B012YDVZWM.
a Poem from my above described Book -
Don't mess with lies; it would hedonistically massacre you with its fangs of vindictively flagrant prejudice,
Don't mess with the scorpion; it would so ballistically permeate its venomously curled tail into your nimble flesh; that you'd never be able to raise your hindside,
Don't mess with the Sun; it would burn you to infinitesimal moles of inane ash; which wouldn't be accepted even by the land of disastrously disappearing oblivion,
Don't mess with the Shark; it would pulverize every element of your countenance to such a pulverized chowder; that wouldn't be visible with even the most contemporarily high powered telescope,
Don't mess with the avalanche; it would treacherously bury you an infinite feet beneath your corpse; a place so scurrilously asphyxiating beneath the earth; where
even darkness dreaded to dare,
Don't mess with obsession; it would maniacally frazzle every sensuously sensitive vein of your persona; reduce you to such a bundle of delirious meaninglessness that even the coffins of hell would blatantly refuse,
Don't mess with the ghost; it would wretchedly jinx you beyond the comprehensions of infinite infinity; torturing you to such an extent; that you vomited raw blood everytime you witnessed the contours of your face,
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