Hardik Vaidya Poems

Do not weep for me, your tears are not worth,
Worth for the oceans that ply in me.
A single drop from your eye,
Is deeper than the endless depth I hide,
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I bought two sarees.
From Bhuj, the queen of sands,
The love of men.
Local craft, we call them Bandhani.
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The crimson red when Cuprum meets the spirit flame,
Is it the flame that writes me, or do I write the flame?
A moment of thought and it occurs,
I write for All, the all in me and the me in all.
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Let us count our fears, one at a time,
Put them in a glass still, and boil them on the fire of our inner beauty.
Let the spirit of mirage boil away, leaving the nett sum for final assay.
I won't be surprised, neither you, it is a very known friend, who lurks,
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I read your poems,
You read mine.
I am a born hunter, can't you read my mind?
Forget my mind, what about my intent?
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I am what I am.
A man on the street, with a fat designation,
In ever understood it.
I earned it for you.
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Some times I wonder,
What good does it do, to be a simple fool?
In utter love, truthful, and yet be nude despite all ridicule?
It surely does not pay, you are a living testimony my darling,
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I have been yours before my conception.
It is a scientific logical deduction.
My unique sequence was a cipher only you could read.
What a co incidence your sequence too breathed.
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I have nothing to say.
Yet I have to say so much that squeezing you,
Smothering in the fresh lime of your shampooed hair,
Slithering my hands down your virgin waist made for me,
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Lets do a favor, one good honest deed,
Free all the crows and release them free,
Into the last left wilds, of Mumbai
Green, serene, where leopards roam and hide.
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