Poetry

1. STYLE
Abruptly crisp; sonorously manipulative ; Astutely target oriented; was the style of the
checkered suit businessman,
Vibrant breezy; Beautifully serene; Stupendously animated; was the style of the
gigantic trunk oak tree,
Boisterously escalating; Tenaciously clashing; Fabulously salty; was the style of
the boundlessly undulating ocean,
Impeccably innocent; Entirely oblivious to vagaries of monotonous life; as innocuous
as the virgin sea shores; was the style of the freshly born and incessantly sleeping
child,
Viciously wicked; Perilously threatening; Furtively clever; was the style of the acerbic
tailed & lethally venomous scorpion,
Bountifully colossal; Blissfully serene; Dynamically fluttering; was the style of the
unfathomable expanse of azure sky,
Overwhelmingly verbose; Inundated with countless alphabets; Encompassing every
word on this planet; was the style of the leather bound and enchantingly embellished
dictionary,
Tangily seductive; Voluptuously enticing; Ravishingly beautiful; was the style of the
young maiden,
Blatantly deplorable; Thunderously smelly; Obnoxiously fat; was the style of the
garbage coated and pretentiously inflated pig,
Magically smooth; Uninhibitedly unrestricted; Handsomely buoyant; was the style of
the wide spread and majestically gliding eagle,
Brilliantly flamboyant; Omnipotent & supremely enthusing; Sizzling the entire
Universe in the swirl of its austerely fiery rays; was the style of the Kingly Sun,
Disdainfully dirty; Mischievously poking; Large eyed and petrified; was the style of
the gargantuan rat sleeping peacefully on a bar of immaculate cheese,
Gorgeously sweet; Insurmountably tantalizing; Heavenly scented; was the style of the
incomprehensibly spongy and cherry tipped triangular cake,

2. Pertinently harassing; Relentlessly irate; Perniciously and incorrigibly permeating; was
the style of the inconspicuously diminutive mosquito,
Preposterously large; Heinously diabolical; Mammoth jawed and cannibalistic; was the
style of the stoically silver shark,
Rambunctiously busy; Rampantly darting around; Mystically diffusing delectable
globs of golden honey; was the style of the electric paced and diving bumble bee,
Poignantly sharp; Celestially tasting; Astronomically reinvigorating; was the style of
the profusely aromatic morning tea,
Unsurpassably slippery; Wildly woven; Intractably sticky; was the style of the
splendidly captivating and criss-crossed spider web,
Stringently barking; Irrefutably loyal; Blessed with an astounding prowess to smell
even the most obscure of footprints; was the style of the fur coated sheep dog,
Unimaginably blessed; Engendering a person to march forward all his life;
Vivaciously pouring tears of happiness and sadness at times; was the style of
the effusively turbulent eye,
Infectiously sweet; Crunchy & Delicious; Incredulously exotic; was the style of the
raw crystals of scintillating white sugar,
Tumultuously freezing; More transparent than any mirror; Shimmering ingratiatingly
under milky moonlight; was the style of the mountain of white ice,
Astoundingly cozy; Wonderfully compassionate; Exquisitely sheltering naked skin
from inclement cold; was the style of the richly evolved and meticulously stitched
satiny quilt,
Insurmountably heavy; Extraordinarily abraded demeanor; Remaining as stoical as
dead even in bizarre affliction; was the style of the bulky grey stone boulder,
Magnificently striped; Dispersed into shades of mesmerizing beauty; Tremendously
fascinating; was the style of the opalescent rainbow,
Abusively dirty; Repugnant to virtually all mankind; Abhorrently white sandwiched
between glowing follicles of scalp hair; was the style of pugnacious dandruff,
Deadly disastrous; Inexorably earth shattering; Unprecedentedly devastating; was the
style of the cold blooded and killer earthquake,

3. Melodiously cascading; Clashing into a billion globules of sparkling froth; Gorgeously
caressing the periphery of black rock; was the style of the profoundly exuberant and
gurgling waterfall,
Unflinchingly brave; An intrepid adventurer; Compromising on nothing but the
traitors scalp; was the style of the true soldier,
Love without discrimination; Unquestionably sacrosanct visage; Thoughts about her
child solely lingering in her mind; was the style of the Divinely mother,
Incessantly on the prowl; Ruthlessly assassinating innocent heads for meager bundles
of currency; Traces of humanity evaporated into remote oblivion; was the style of
the cold blooded criminal,
Inevitably smiling; Instilling life in morbidly dead veins; Heaps of talcum powder
irrevocably sticking to his face; was the style of the comically attired circus clown,
Opulently glimmering; Overpowering everything in vicinity by the tenacious power in
its shine; Coined as the richest source of human survival; was the style of the
fat bodied gold coin,
Deluged with blissful scent; Beyond perceptions of captivating beauty; Sprouting like
a magician from a pond of dirty water; was the style of the prolifically redolent and
pink lotus,
Dolorously dull; Strangulated with gruesomely contemptuous malice; Aligned with a
massive battalion of blood sucking termites; was the style of the impregnably hostile
prison cell,
Rosily pink; Intransigently titillating; Chattering infinite times in a single day; was the
style of velvety soft lips,
A glistening thirst quencher; Pacifying scorched chords of the throat beyond the
mightiest of perception; Guzzled by every palpable being till the time he exists and
even in times of after life; was the style of pure and plain spring water,
Bombastically sleazy; Nictitating with a festoon of garish lights; A clandestine retreat
for heartthrobs after midnight; was the style of the indefatigably pulsating country
discotheque,
Continuously ticking; Accurately depicting various shades of life; Portraying to all the
immense value of time; was the style of the towering and century old grandfather
clock,

4. Lifelessly still; Nostalgically reminiscent; Placid yet profusely demonstrative; was the
style of the decade old and dusty photograph,
Exorbitantly mounted; Embossed with several lines; The ultimate chapter of destiny;
was the style of the scarlet complexioned rubicund palm,
Infinitesimally tiny; Blended with a rectangle and square; Kissing the key umpteenth
number of times in a day; was the style of the intricately dainty enigmatic keyhole,
Supremely tantalizing; Astonishingly curled; Flirtatiously flashing; was the style of the
gentle and beautiful eyelashes,
Vehemently stinking; Freely available all day; Enticing an armory of flies the instants
it caressed the ground; was the style of colorlessly trapped saliva,
Astoundingly incarcerating; Playfully rollicking; Acrobatically jumping; was the style
of the adorable and honey crested dolphin,
Satanically awesome; Taller than the skies; Ghoulishly growling; was the style of
the savagely stepping devil,
Perpetually invisible; Able to cast its wicked spell over innocent human beings;
Lighter than the lightest of thread; was the style of the lecherously minded ghost,
Standing like a pillar in times of distress; Helping without the slightest of expectation;
Praying for her brothers safety in whatever arena he stepped; was the style of the
unprejudiced sister,
And Passionately free; Invincible to all powers of this globe; Immortally existing since
centuries unprecedented; Divinely blending palpitating hearts together; was the style
of love; infact the style of the Omnipresent Creator.