Hide and Seek - part 7 - Rhyming & Non Rhyming Poems
chords,
Along with Megan bottles filled with glucose liquid,
Antiseptic stench spreads all over,
Streaks of blood smudge windows,
Bundles of cotton bandages lay in a heap,
Modern computer displays throbbing heart; blood pressure..etc.,
Walkie-talkie antennas sway in animation,
Plastic face masks are strapped for medical inspection,
Power horns blare incessantly,
The speedometer barks escalating speeds,
Acknowledging bystanders shift away,
Portable refrigerator carries patient food,
Consisting of capsule; injection; pacifying ointment; and mineral water,
Patient groans inundate plush interiors,
Wounded and stabbed at umpteenth places,
Dislocated bones and fight for breath,
Head lying in gory pools of blood,
With nostalgic memories of close kin,
And an overwhelming desire to survive like never before,
As the 10 seater ambulance urgently surges forward through crowded roads of the city.
22. KING CACTUS
Parrot green buds of thorn,
Camouflaged in multiple coats of sand,
Having entangled roots in a sheath of loose soil,
Sighted in abundance on colossal plains of parched land,
Required crystal water in paltry amounts,
Thriving in blazing rays of the fiery Sun ball,
Swaying mildly in the rustic dry breeze,
Resistant to termite and large insects,
A specimen of sharp and flexible tentacles,
Spreading its parasitic reach to milligram amounts of starved sand,
Giving birth to flowers after short spells of rain,
Oozing bitter springs of milk when sliced with knife,
Accustomed to soaring heights of mercury all throughout centuries of the calendar year,
Baked to brittle proportions in oceans of acid light,
a relishing meal for hunch backed camel wandering at leisurely speed,
It has hidden cavities of water in raw pulp shells,
Also the tenacity to wound its prey with a labyrinth of acrimonious sprouts,
A perfect antonym to lush green grass,
Inhabiting umpteenth spots of infertile land,
The King Cactus stands tall and solitary in steaming sand of the Sahara Desert.
23. HANDKERCHIEF
I wound it tightly into oblong ball of soft cushion,
Tossed it high in pools of humid air to play with it.
I tied it on forked branch of the conical tree,
Prayed for unsurpassable wishes to come true.
I pressed it firmly to stop the oozing of blood,
Reinforced it with several of its kind after witnessing its power.
I curled it completely engulfing my slender wrist,
Got ready to face my opponent in the boxing ring.
I painted it dark with streaks of striped violet,
Hung it on the wall adding shades of versatility to the dull ambience of the room.
I used to wipe gallons of sweat dripping down my neck,
Drenched it with ice water generating waves of frozen excitement.
I threw it in a pond of water; coating it with lots of glue,
Withdrew if after few minutes with a cluster of small fish sticking firmly.
I draped it round my neck in biting winds of winter,
Marched pompously through the streets in cozy comforts of my inexpensive scarf.
I soaked it in a concoction of cologne and strong scent,
Revitalized dead nerve cells by its magical caress.
I blew my nose with rapid spurts of energy,
Didn’t care a damn as long as I had the company of my large red handkerchief.
24. HOUSE BOAT
The straw brimmed hat bobbed on the surface of the sea,
Sleek motorboats churned through white froth of water,
Pearly white shark glided harmlessly beneath a plethora of marine shrub,
The sun blazed violently from behind dirty grey cloud covers,
Strong pouches of wind caused the waves to rise sky high,
Thereby toppling the hat into deep territories of the emerald green ocean.
High powered torch beams cut tranquil stillness of the night,
The huge mast danced tantalizingly in the breeze,
Large walls of timber were coated with wax paint,
Conical rooms were fitted with paraffin lamp,
There were a battalion of mice on the kitchen floor,
Pungent aroma of maize whisky floated in the air,
A pandemonium of voices rose in chorused unison,
Crackling fires burnt on the broad steel deck,
Menacing octopus roasted on barbecue grills,
Blasting tunes diffused from the programmed loudspeaker,
Gentle silver light of the moon engulfed their bodies,
Big drops of the salt and mineral struck them in frenzy,
The gypsies were having the time of their lives,
With several hours left before the next brilliant dawn,
And a host of sea flood bubbling in red hot steam of the oven,
As the two storied house boat gathered spurts of speed,
Galloping towards realms of the distantly stretched black horizon.
25. IF THE WORLD WERE UPSIDE DOWN
If gigantic silhouette of the peepal tree was rotated upside down,
Countless fibers of moistened roots would shiver in the wind,
Leafy branches of lush green foliage would be buried deep beneath the ground,
With a host of animals living in proximity with the earth.
If the dexterously sculptured flower vase was kept upside down,
Soiled extracts of plant water would leak out in ecstatic frenzy.
If conical tapered blocks of the mountain were inverted upside down,
The slender nose tip would refrain to bear the onerous load of the Herculean hillock,
And the formidable structure would collapse like a soft pack of playing cards.
If the glass facaded bungalow was revolved upside down; heaps of furniture would tumble down with a sigh; water oozing from infinite cavities of the shower would try and kiss the sky.
If princely cars traverse through rough carpets of road upside down; occupants would solely relinquish ideas of inhabiting them,
Chrome topped assembly of roof would screech in high pitched tunes of discordance.
If the colossal brick structure of the clock tower was placed upside down,
There would be inevitable confusions of time,
With people having to perspire all night and sleep with a perpetual bliss all sunlit day.
If humans trespassed upside down on the surface of obdurate ground,
They would be I intimate contacts with slithering snake and ant,
Growing bald every minute with glistening scalps,
With their legs oblivious to the art of walking,
Baking like unconsummated cakes in harsh rays of the Sun.
26. THE HYPOCHONDRIAC
He felt as if the solid roof of his house would abruptly collapse,
Burying him beneath a conglomerate of cement and bare brick.
He felt as if someone was following him in the darkened ambience of the night,
Would stab him with unrelenting strokes of switchblade knife.
He felt as if he would drown in shallow waters of the pool,
If he ever ventured to take a plunge and swim.
He felt as if there were wailing monsters descending from the sky,
Ready to rip apart precious chunks from his anatomy.
He felt as if the food he ate had traces of lethal venom,
Vomited his bowels clean prior to gulping even a morsel of food.
He felt as if the glass would shatter into infinite splinters,
The moment he caressed it with silken smooth fingers.
He felt he was brutally contaminated and impious,
The instant he touched the silver door knob obscured by minute linings of dust powder.
He felt as if human blood would trickle instead of mineral water,
If he stood under the protuberant nozzles of the bathroom shower.
He felt as if brittle tip of the pen would break,
Gallons of ink flow rampantly; the second he flexed his fingers to scribble.
He felt as if the liquid he consumed would strangulate his throat vein,
Suffocating intricate pipes leading to his brain.
He felt as if the soil would sink him in its colossal lap,
If he dared stepping on barren pinches of clay mud.
He felt as if a cluster of scorpion would pop out from his mouth,
The instant he hoisted his jaw to speak.
He felt sick; encompassed with intimidating bouts of fever; when his body felt a trifle warm after basking in sunlit rays.
He knew he was dying a ghastly death every unleashing minute of life,
Confronted with ludicrous ridicule from the society,
There were several of his kind spending their entire lives in cloistered rebuke,
With every filtering beam of dawn looming large as shivering night,
C’mon friends lets do the best we possibly can to help the hypochondriac.
27. 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