Hide and Seek - part 5 - Rhyming & Non Rhyming Poems
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highest fraternity.
And eventually when I swam in bunch of her silken hair; I felt drowned in the
savage sea of her perpetual love,
I wanted this swim to go on for times immemorial; and I found this to be the most perfect swim.
32. THE SPEED OF LIFE
I wanted the speed of life to be like swashbuckling blades of the ceiling fan,
When I was bustling with euphoric fervor; in the prime of youth.
I wanted the speed of life to be like the withered leaves of autumn,
When I was imprisoned in desolation; with traces of the world far away from my
silhouette.
I wanted the speed of life to be like slowly dribbling honey,
When I felt secret avenues of energy fading; and my feet felt drearily exhausted.
I wanted the speed of life to be like the mesmerizing and eloquent cuckoo,
When I brusquely got up from sleep; at the outbreak of evanescent dawn.
I wanted the speed of life to be like slithering reptiles traversing through bushy outgrowths of the jungle,
When I was intensely engrossed in artistry and captivating romance.
I wanted the speed of life to be like hostile blood leaking in fury; from fresh wounds,
When I felt my persona submerged in pools of belligerence; my fists clenched and clusters of my teeth grimaced like a formidable fortress.
I wanted the speed of life to be like the transparently reflecting mirror,
When I felt circumspect to confront loads of tumultuous sorrow.
I wanted the speed of life to be like the garrulous tongue,
When I felt like incessantly chattering; disrupting the synchrony of stillness with my voice.
I wanted the speed of life to be like the turbulently flowing Ganges,
When I contemplated on dipping my demeanor into Luke warm water; and having a
bath.
I wanted the speed of life to be like the plummeting showers of torrential rain,
When I set out to conquer the world barefoot; basking in the spirit of adventure.
I wanted the speed of life to be like the majestically gliding eagle in the sky,
When I envisaged about the harmony of thought; the blissful symmetry of existence.
I wanted the speed of life to be like the shrill ringing of the telephone,
When I nostalgically reminisced the conversations I had with my beloved on telephone.
I wanted the speed of life to be like the painstakingly trespassing desert camel,
When I was on the threshold of succumbing life; and I had relinquished the tenacity of youth.
I wanted the speed of life to be like the brilliantly burning bulb,
When I was on the course of reaching stupendous echelons of invincible stardom.
And I wanted all speeds of life to be transferred to my fellow beings in acute distress,
The moment I left for my heavenly abode; to rest perennially in celestial arms of the Creator.
33. THREADS
When I tried to cross swirling waters of the river on threads of fragile paper,
The contraption disdainfully broke midway; and I hurtled down at astounding speeds to blend with the cold water.
When I tried to clamber up the mighty edifice on threads of molten wax,
I miserably failed in my daunting attempt; with the slurry of candle sucking me to the ground bottom.
When I hoisted myself on long thread of burnt plastic; frigidly dangling from unsurpassable heights of the mountain summit,
The thread snapped into multiple fragments midway; and I plummeted down, into a concoction of wild stone and shrub.
When I tried to make merry; swaying on a swing impregnated with threads of mushroom,
Cupid desires made me nibble at the fruit, and I fell with thunderous thuds on the floor, intermingled with the debris of the broken swing.
When I tried to visualize my entity in coagulated threads of shattered glass,
The reflections appeared grotesquely distorted; prompting me to frivolously laugh at my demeanour.
When I tried to incinerate a crackling fire with threads of soggy cotton,
The conflagration refrained from burning; and there arose weak flames of amber camouflaged in clouds of smoke.
When I tried to entangle my slender wrists from a jugglery of invincible iron thread,
The outcome was abhorrently disgusting; my hands bled prolifically pulverizing my futile attempts of escape.
When I tried to perform the artistry of tight rope on a flaccid
thread of chocolate candy,
The cable snapped like scores of matchsticks; when caressed by
gentle draughts of air.
When I tried invade through silken threads of the rustic spider web,
Surplus arenas of my body got embossed with sticky cream; with the creature injecting paltry vials of poison in my flesh.
And eventually when I got bonded with incorrigible threads of her love,
A plethora of apprehensions in life got mystically pacified; onerous difficulties in life transited to lucidly simple,
My entire silhouette was draped in cloud showers of perennial love,
And let me tell you friends; this thread of our celestial love was resistant to decay; didn’t break for centuries immemorial.
34. MY TOOTHBRUSH
I used it to scrape streaks of blatant dirt; adhering languidly to my neck,
Rubbed it vigorously against my bare skin; the instant I felt petulant sensations of itching.
I dipped it in a barrel of aromatic paint; keeping It immersed in a concoction of flamboyant color,
Slapped it hard against the barren wall; inundating her surface with reinvigorating opalescent color.
I used it as a broomstick to swipe off tones of obnoxious dust; applying tumultuous pressure on its fragile persona,
Buried it deep beneath the ground for few seconds; to evacuate pugnacious worms.
I caressed it gently against my nostril; applying its noninvasive hair to my lips,
Produced a deafening sneeze soon after; as an inevitable aftermath of the application.
I held it high In the air; clenching it tightly in my rubicund palms,
Swirled it unrelentingly in right angled patterns; using it as a contrivance for seeking indispensable help.
I melted it in crackling fires; transforming its body into a shriveled wire,
Painted the same with pure gold; winding it dexterously against my slender neck.
I used it to wipe my effusive tears; holding it in close proximity of my intricate eye,
Pressing it against my heavy eyelids; to gently massage exhausted arenas of my brain.
I rotated it wildly in the arid autumn breeze; trying to assassinate a fleet of ominous mosquitoes,
Trying to impregnate waves of uncanny terror in all insects hovering around; perched innocuously in dark corners.
I fitted its head with a metallic cap; embossing it with fluorescent color,
Even had the audacity to fix it in my pocket; substituting nicely for my fountain pen.
My toothbrush however looked the best; when coated with a flimsy layer of germicidal toothpaste,
Scrubbed onerously against the periphery of my disdainfully yellow teeth; imparting them a scintillating shine.
35. TRUE LOVE
It was sweeter than the supremely sweet chocolate candy,
It was more pungent than fresh slices of green chili,
It was shriller than the mesmerizing chirping of jungle nightingale,
It was more captivating than a thoroughly animated game of cricket,
It was darker than the most opalescent of pastel color,
Its sting was infinite times more than austerely venomous beetle,
It was more obdurate than the strongest piece of rotund stone,
It was denser than the bountiful bunch of hair riveted to scalp,
It was more transparent than the
most scintillating of pellucid glass,
It was thornier than the bushiest of desert cactus,
It was more sparkling than the most polished of marble floor,
It was cooler; than the most efficacious of air-conditioner,
It was saltier than the saline waves radiating from the persona of colossal ocean,
It was crisper than the most poignant of edible biscuit,
It was brighter than the golden rays of the brilliantly dazzling Sun,
It was more fragrant than the tantalizingly aromatic crimson rose,
It was more picturesque than sprawling mountain ranges embossed with perennial
foliage,
It was more flexible than the most malleable of tree rubber,
It was whiter than the purest of pearly cow milk,
It was more vociferous than the thunderous waterfall colliding with jagged rock,
It was more stringent than the teacher slashing an innocuous student with a leather cane,
It was softer than the satiny quilt stuffed with loads of flocculent cotton,
It was more sharp than the acerbic edges of broken glass,
It was sleeker than the articulately moulded race sedan,
It was more salubrious than the tastiest of consumable food,
It was more tenacious than sporadic currents of electricity traversing through
cable wires,
It was more handsome than a scrupulously embellished; pampered prince,
It was more volatile than the most radioactive of atom bomb,
It was more enigmatic than the most mystical of historical scripture,
It was more profound than the accepted axioms of contemporary science,
It was more prolific than the athlete with the most number of football goals,
It was more immaculate than the palpable heart of a life rendering mother,
It was more enticing than the most ravishing of malt whisky and Caribbean rum,
It was faster than the speed at