Hardik Vaidya Poems

Farewell Emily,
Editors snip, cut, shape.
This forum is populated by the wild.
The wilderness of times.
...

Swathe of reds, twinkling on the black Tarmac of hope
Red the color of night
Two per tail, a thousand tails,
Tails that don't wag, don't have the eyes of the street dog
...

I rise, not to fall.
I fall not to be lost.
I stand up,
Look into the eyes of your lost,
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Knock knock.
Who is on line?
My wandering ghost and your scent of pot roast.
Knock knock.
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I am amazed at your innocence,
Why do you claim, you do not know?
Know that my Friday begins with the curve of your waist.
Know that my Saturday dawns with the depth of your breast.
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Who ever said customer is the King,
Does not quite know ding dong ding of selling.
The customer is the Queen.
She chooses, she fancies, she desires, she commands.
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I choose to remain silent for a while.
Allow my ears to relive the wild.
Be a part of the cosmos around,
And listen to the incoming strange sounds.
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A nocturnal bug laments,
He buzzes around street lights and complains.
In the days of pristine old,
When coal was yet to be burned to boil water to gold,
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If you choose to be in love,
Be shameless
Be nude
Be rude
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An old pipal tree, stands by the old sea port.
Leaves are all yellow, the bark wrinkled and cold.
It is no winter, warm and sunny,
It has lost its time, with it, thirst for honey.
...