Hardik Vaidya Poems

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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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
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Farewell Emily,
Editors snip, cut, shape.
This forum is populated by the wild.
The wilderness of times.
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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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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.
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Barbarism is the child of man not woman.
It dies a dogs death every second, when the kind awakens in men.
The pangs of labor are not unknown. They are nightmares, holocausts.
Man before being kind is stupid. To be stupid is manly to be kind is men.
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The vow of silence.
Terrorism across the border,
Innocents killed,
Their lives hung on the politics of a failed state,
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Do not spit.
Stubborn Illiteracy and men, a powerful cocktail,
Stairwell is a spittoon of spiritual celibacy.
Ganesha, Krishna, Shiva, Sai Baba, Parvati, Lakshmi.
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